Amoebas and Values Voters

I am not convinced that anything changed for the American "values voter" since 2004. The term comes, of course, from the exit polls in a race that went decisively to George W. Bush: those voters claimed that of all their interests and concerns, "moral values" stood at the top. But we should remember how morally vacuous the Democratic Party was at the time. John Kerry held the old shtick that his Catholic faith and his personal morality was precisely that: personal, and safely locked up inside his head. That was exactly what so turned off values voters. They wanted to see a connection between one's faith and public policy; they wanted to see some kind of transcendent blessing placed on the very earthy and real issues of national life, rather than a bland, cold, fact-based approach that Kerry thought he had. And if that meant adopting Bush's interpretation of the relationship between Heaven and Earth, then that was their choice.

As I've said elsewhere, seeing that parties are so central to getting things done also explains why the Christian Right has aligned itself so closely with the Republicans. This is not only true of religious people per se, but of "values voters" in general: the Democrats' populism, like all mass-democratic movements, turned to elitism in order to uphold its principles. Hence, the venom of Senate confirmation hearings of federal judges (in the Bush years), and the role of doctors intertwined with ideas about freedom in reproductive decisions. The dictates of these elites was not only "secular," but openly hostile toward anything that smacked of tradition or morality. Those who retained a sense of the need for strong values, both shaping and being shaped by public policy, were easily alienated.

E.J. Dionne has a great piece in the Washington Post today on the the fate of the values voter.

The moral values voters went 80 percent for George W. Bush, and conservative commentators scolded the dreaded liberal media for missing the central dynamic of the election... Matthew Spalding, the Heritage Foundation's normally careful scholar on religious questions, was also caught up in the enthusiasm of the moment. The election, he said, showed that "cultural liberalism is increasingly unattractive to a significant and growing segment of the American electorate."

Spalding and others predicted that the values voter was now the essential force behind all election, and that the Democratic Party, dominated as it is by the liberal establishment, would have to recognize such mainstream values if it ever wanted to win again, or even survive.

Perhaps this was all a bunch of short-sighted silliness. But I don't think that's the case. I seem to remember thinking in 2004 just how flawed the "values voter" judgment really was ― not because of the ways the tide might shift, or the economy might plummet and make everyone vote their pocketbooks, but because of the word "value" itself.

It is, I believe, an inherently meaningless word. We point to tradition, to family structure, to revelation ― to all kinds of things that, in the end, are only true because we have in fact chosen them. We talk about values as if they are so meaningful, and so full of significance; but the the word itself is a mere emotional symbol, with absolutely no content behind it.

Hence, it was only a matter of time before its priorities shifted in public opinion. That is, of course, the definition of a great leader in a post-modern setting: he is able to impress meaning upon the public. Or, as Woodrow Wilson put it,

It is the power which dictates, dominates; the materials yield. Men are as clay in the hands of the consummate leader.

Wilson meant this in a very twentieth century sense: it was the spirit of social engineering through raw power, which could never do wrong if it simply reached all the way. Today, it is a far sweeter thing. The great leader does not experiment on society, but proceeds forward with the public ideology he has deemed correct. Rather than stamping out all dissent, though, he tries to schmooze it and smother it into submission. And if that means talking about "values," then that's what needs to happen.

There is really not much difference between values rooted in the past and values rooted in the future, i.e., in change. Both reject the possibility that anything is right or wrong an any fixed and permanent sense. It is not that the American values voters declined; they simply used their all-American pragmatism and changed the meaning of values. They accepted that such deeply held personal duties can indeed align themselves with certain sets of nation-wide policies ― that the State can be a tool for making values happen.

None of this should be surprising in light of the evolution of American conservatism. Conservatism does not make its case by saying, "Values are those things which we the traditionalists hold to be very important, and which everyone else should as well" ― because anyone might snatch up the same argument and say "values are those things which we progressives hold to be very important." Conservatism has lost its ability to find persuasive arguments. It is a matter of explaining why something is good for the whole. We cannot describe morality as a matter of sheer duty at all costs, which all ought to obey because of what the few understand. That is a system that is far too rigid, and is sure to break. It is more a matter of explaining how there is such a thing as human flourishing ― that we are all made for a certain end, and depriving ourselves of that end only leads to misery.