Conservatism contra capitalism?

Capitalism is awesome, but conservatives should recognize the tension between their traditionalism and its transformative power.

Written by Bo Winegard.

Modern conservatism is often associated with a reverence for capitalism and a loathing for socialism. From Goldwater to Reagan, its champions celebrated the “magic of the market” while warning against those who stoke class envy. Indeed, the triumph of fusionism, an ideological synthesis of economic libertarianism and social traditionalism, was once so complete that any social conservative who questioned the wisdom of untrammeled capitalism risked being castigated for heresy or, worse still, for flirting with communism.

Yet this was not always the case. Many traditionalists and conservatives have railed against commercialism and against capitalism itself. They have viewed it as an impersonal and amoral force, a social whirlwind that tore apart family, community and religion, introducing dangerous novelties while destroying ancient verities. From Cato the Elder, who condemned the corrosive influence of commerce on Roman virtue, to Pat Buchanan and other modern critics of globalist capitalism, one finds a deep and enduring tradition of conservative skepticism toward a marketplace divorced from moral restraint.

This tradition is not antiquated. It offers a useful counterbalance to the modern conservative enthusiasm for the free market. Even if today’s conservatives ultimately embrace capitalism as a necessary ally, they should approach it with caution and heed the warnings of conservatives old and new who have seen in capitalism a ruthless destroyer of tradition. There are at least four reasons for such prudential skepticism.

First, markets are often amoral, offering goods and services that cater to desire without regard for the virtue or wisdom of those desires. The examples are familiar and numerous: sex and drugs are immensely profitable, yet heavily regulated, even in market-oriented societies like the United States. Prudent statesmen and citizens, it seems, have long recognized that the costs of many goods are vastly greater than their price. The dogma of consumer sovereignty has its limits, even in America.

This is because every transaction, voluntary or not, produces externalities that affect the entire community. Champions of free-market libertarianism often attempt to resolve this dilemma by drawing a (unpersuasive) distinction between private and public harm. Pollution is treated as a legitimate public concern, possibly justifying taxes or regulation. But drug use, pornography and similar behaviors are understood as private tragedies. We may lament them, but their damage ends with the consenting individual who chose to consume the product.

Yet this distinction cannot withstand scrutiny. An individual’s seemingly private decisions often carry painful consequences for others. The woman who dies of a heroin overdose may leave behind children, parents, friends and hundreds of other mourners whose suffering is no less real than that of the farmer whose field is poisoned by industrial waste. The market itself does not account for this grief, yet it is an undeniable social cost.