For much of their modern history, especially during the postwar years of the 20th century, center-left parties (whether under the political banner of social liberalism or social democracy) have confidently advocated for progressive economics. Specifically, these parties embraced the expansionary fiscal policies of Keynesianism with its countercyclical focus on demand management through constructive deficit spending during times of economic contraction to keep the economy humming.
However, with the string of electoral defeats suffered by center-left parties during the 1980s brought about, in part, by the ascendancy of Reaganism and Thatcherism that paved the way for the neoliberal revolution, these parties during the 1990s came to reject their Keynesian tradition that led them to accept the idea—the third way (or as some call it, compassionate neoliberalism)—that to be politically viable in the age of neoliberalism they had to adjust to the new settlement and move to the economic center-right. In essence, embracing an economics of tight fiscal policy (austerity) under the rubric of “sound finance” (that’s actually, well, quite unsound), aversion to Keynesian demand management, market-centric approaches to public policy, financial deregulation, and privatization, while ameliorating some of neoliberalism’s harsh edges. This trajectory toward the economic center-right was famously embodied by the rise of New Labour in the U.K. and New Democrats in the U.S. during the 1990s, and the rise of Orange Book Liberalism (emphasizing classical liberalism) within the traditionally social liberal British Liberal Democrats, in 2004, that culminated in leading that party to become junior partners with the Conservative Party of the U.K. during Prime Minister David Cameron‘s coalitional premiership from 2010-2015.
Now, despite the 2008 global financial crisis discrediting neoliberalism, it seemed that the firm grip of third way economic thinking on center-left parties would remain unchallenged with progressive Keynesianism continually marginalized.
(It must be said, though, Keynesianism did make a comeback with some of the center-left parties immediately after the global financial crisis. However, this resurgence was short-lived as many of these parties soon reverted back to the default third way posture during 2010 and afterward where they soon administered the harsh medicine of austerity without, tragically, healing their ailing economies that unnecessarily resulted in devastating human suffering.)
But then a funny thing happened along way that finally broke the all-too-familiar narrative of center-left parties still clinging to their neoliberal ways.
That thing being Justin Trudeau and the Liberal Party‘s seismic landslide victory in Canada, this past Monday, over the unpopular incumbent Conservative government of Prime Minister Stephen Harper. An election where the Liberals won a solid governing majority government on a platform that rejected austere, third way economics and boldly embraced pro-growth, progressive Keynesianism. This is all the more remarkable when one considers the backstory that led to Trudeau and the Liberals’ smashing victory last week.
When the dropping of the writ occurred on August 2, 2015 that dissolved Parliament by the Governor General of Canada and ushered in the longest federal election in Canadian history (78 days or 11 weeks), the electoral prospects for Trudeau (the son of the legendary Canadian Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau) and the Liberal Party were quite, well, daunting, to say the least. With a meager caucus of only 36 sitting MPs out of 308 seats in the 41st Canadian Parliament (the parliamentary session at the time of its dissolution that inaugurated the election) and coming bleakly into the race initially mired in third place, the Liberal prospects of coming into second place over the social-democratic New Democratic Party (NDP) to become the Official Opposition, let alone toppling the then-ruling Conservative Party of Canada to form a government, were dim.
But then came the bold, game-changing policy pivot in late summer championed by Gerald Butts (Trudeau’s close confident and principal adviser), and other Liberal Party advisors and MPs to isolate, at that time, the frontrunner NDP (led by Thomas Mulcair) in order to become the leading progressive party that captured the all-important anti-Harper voting bloc among center-left and left-wing voters. The Liberals—rather than succumbing to the economic conventional wisdom peddled by austerians within the Canadian business, media, and political establishment in thrall with a “balanced budget fetish”—intelligently rejected all that. Instead, Trudeau and the Liberals essentially embraced the following campaign posture: Go progressive, Keynesian bold or go home!
In one fell swoop, Trudeau and the Liberals wisely rejected almost three decades of anti-deficit hysteria that, for far too long, has plagued the Canadian political landscape (as outlined brilliantly in a piece penned by noted Toronto Star columnist Rick Salutin) by narrowing national economic debate. During much of that time, even significant segments within the major center-left parties in Canada, the Liberals and NDP, succumbed to the hysteria; most notably then-Finance Minister Paul Martin‘s austerity policies during the 1990s, under Jean Chretien‘s premiership, that famously reneged on some of the Liberals’ major public investment promises in their then-touted 1993 campaign manifesto, the Red Book, and then-NDP Ontario Premier Bob Rae‘s imposition of austerity measures on the civil service workforce through his widely criticized Social Contract. The anti-deficit hysteria, for almost three decades, has circumscribed the ability of Canadian center-left parties to offer a coherent progressive, pro-growth Keynesian alternative as the Overton Window—the range of acceptable discourse and ideas in the political public square—has long been dominated by elite austerian delusions.
So, on August 27, at a televised campaign event in Oakville, Ontario, Trudeau publicly shifted left, in the economic sphere, and unveiled the Liberals’ Keynesian program of much-needed, robust public investments in infrastructure to revitalize the sluggish Canadian economy. To further drive home the Liberals’ emphasis on their shift to the left, on economic policy, they strategically—and brilliantly—showcased their infrastructure program by holding its announcement at an NDP-friendly locale to win the game of optics and symbolism to favorably drive home their campaign message. Their message being that Trudeau, not Mulcair, is the true progressive change agent in this election for the important left-wing and center-left anti-Harper voting bloc split between the red Grits and the orange Dippers. John Geddes, writing in Maclean’s, perceptively noted Trudeau’s campaign trajectory to the left (emphasis added):
Trudeau made his unexpected vow to spill red ink at the headquarters of Local 793 of the International Union of Operating Engineers, located in Oakville, Ont., which bargains for thousands of heavy-equipment operators in the province’s construction industry. And the Liberal leader wasn’t there just to pose for the cameras at the controls of a Manitowoc crawler crane. By staging his campaign-disrupting announcement at a labour-run training facility, Trudeau left no doubt that he means to challenge the traditionally union-allied NDP on its left flank.
As highlighted by Martin Patriquin‘s piece in Maclean’s, the point of Trudeau and the Liberals’ pro-growth Keynesian program was to make a sharp contrast, on a substantive policy-level, between their plan’s robust focus on constructive deficit spending (that would, again, jump-start the slowing Canadian economy) and the austerity measures outlined in both economic plans offered by the Conservatives and NDP:
On Aug. 27, Trudeau pounced, announcing $125 billion in infrastructure spending [an ambitious increase; up from $65 billion (Cdn) currently spent]—“the largest infrastructure investment in Canadian history,” as the Liberal campaign put it. Of course, spending oodles of money on bridges, roads and the like is nothing new, particularly during a campaign. The main difference is that the party plans on going into deficit to fund it, a marked difference from the NDP and the Conservatives. (Emphases and italics added.)
In 2013, Conservatives claimed that their New Building Canada Plan offered the “largest and longest federal infrastructure plan in our nation’s history.” Liberals similarly claim that their infrastructure pitch would comprise the “largest new infrastructure investment in Canadian history.” The difference? The Liberal plan augments existing Building Canada funding, eventually to the tune of $9.5 billion a year. It parcels the money into three categories: public transit infrastructure, social infrastructure (e.g., affordable housing, child care and seniors’ facilities), and green infrastructure (e.g., wastewater facilities, clean energy, dams). (Emphases added.)
With their late summer pivot, Trudeau and the Liberals, with unapologetic boldness, embraced and renewed the traditional center-left progressive Keynesian economic position that, again, for the past three decades, had been (for far too long) superseded by center-right third way economic thinking among many of the world’s center-left parties. Alas, a center-left progressive party finally making a decisive break with the past.
With that embrace, the Liberals, with laser-like focus, hit home the following message to Canadian voters: We are the party of progressive liberalism who will not be tied down by the empty economic conventional wisdom of neoliberal austerity. And, as such, we will be offering Canadians a real alternative this election.
In other words, the Liberals offered to Canadians a real alternative that embraced responsible economic growth through stimulative Keynesian deficit spending (running a modest deficit of less than $10 billion [Cdn] a year for three consecutive years) to make the critical, constructive public investments to get the sluggish Canadian economy “moving again” (to borrow the key words from JFK’s 1960 campaign mantra). (It is interesting to note that the Liberals’ election platform of Keynesian deficit spending in the area of public investments in infrastructure was drafted, as reported in the Toronto Star, in consultation with members of the Federation of Canadian Municipalities; individuals who, more than anyone else, are at the frontlines in knowing the direct, adverse economic impact from Canada’s crumbling national infrastructure and the harsh effects of federal cuts to public investments.)
Throughout the campaign, Trudeau and the Liberals, with tight message discipline, kept emphasizing their embrace of the tried-and-true progressive Keynesian approach of “pump priming” to stimulate the Canadian economy in the throes of an economic slowdown. In fact, the Liberals went so far as to preach their gospel of Keynesianism on major Canadian television networks, such as CBC and CTV, as well as putting out one of the election’s most memorable ads, “Escalator: Harder to get ahead,” that is, perhaps, the best explanation of Keynesian economics in 30 seconds ever produced. (In regard to the Liberals’ campaign ad, the National Post went so far as to implicitly put it on par with LBJ‘s memorable 1964 “Daisy” commercial in its impact to convey a potent metaphor that defines an election.)
To drive their policy pivot firmly into the minds of the Canadian electorate, the Liberals also kept pounding on Mulcair for his inexplicable decision to embrace the Tory narrative on economic priorities the emphasized austerity and balanced budgets over Keynesian stimulative policies that lead to economic growth.
As such, during the summer, Toronto-area star Liberal MP (and a former internationally acclaimed business journalist who’s part of Trudeau’s economic team of advisors), Chrystia Freeland, attacked Mulcair’s embrace of center-right economics by accusing him of advocating austerity: “Thomas Mulcair talks a lot about looking out for average Canadians, but his only path to a balanced budget so quickly is massive cuts and backing away from the NDP’s spending promises.”
Joining in on Freeland’s line of attack, Trudeau made the following devastating point: “Let me tell you this my friends, the choice in this election is between jobs and growth or austerity and cuts. Tom Mulcair chose the wrong side.” And during the French language leaders’ debate hosted by Quebec network TVA in early October, Trudeau honed in on his attack on Mulcair’s embrace of the austere Tory economic playbook of balanced budgets over investments by pointing out the latter’s conservative-lite posture (italics added): “Mr. Mulcair, you made bad choices. You chose to balance Mr. Harper’s budget at all cost which means you can’t invest right now in the help that Canadians and Quebecers need. We have made another choice — three modest deficits to give help to children and pull 315,000 kids out of poverty.”
In fact, Mulcair’s bewildering reaction to Trudeau’s Keynesian program did more to emphasize the Liberals’ campaign argument that they, not the NDP, were the credible progressive alternative in the race. As reported in Tom Wells’ brilliant long-form Maclean’s article (a recollection of the 2015 Canadian election), Mulcair’s response to the Liberals’ progressive pivot on the economy sounded as if a Milton Friedman acolyte had handed the NDP leader a right-wing talking point:
Mulcair took a question about the Trudeau deficit plan. “Governing is about priorities, and we’ve watched the Conservatives run up eight deficits in a row,” he said. “Now the Liberals are telling us that they want to run several years of deficits.”
And? And? “I’m tired of watching governments put that debt on the backs of future generations,” Mulcair went on. “Stephen Harper’s approach has always been, ‘Live for today, let tomorrow take care of itself.’ At some point, you have to start having different priorities.”
This was the sort of reply that Liberal strategists wanted insofar as it accomplished three critical things. First, it isolated the NDP away from the large bloc of center-left and left-wing anti-Harper voters. Second, it blurred the distinction between Harper and Mulcair on the economy (notwithstanding the anti-progressive attacks by the former against the latter). Third it boxed in the NDP into the right-wing, budget-cutting corner that would prevent the social-democratic party from credibly running as Canada’s progressive change agent this election.
Furthermore, as Wells’ article points out, Mulcair’s reaction to Trudeau’s pivot devastatingly undermined the NDP’s traditional political brand as being the authentic progressive conscience of Canada of the two center-left parties:
When they heard Mulcair’s answer, Liberal campaign staffers were jubilant.
“It was a huge blessing when Mulcair went on the other side,” the Liberal who had followed public opinion on the deficit question said later. Not even a competent salesman like Mulcair could sell the notion that Liberals and Conservatives were peas in a pod. Not when he was joining Harper in insisting that budgets must be balanced henceforth. “Now we had the change lane all to ourselves,” the Liberal said. (Emphases added)
Moreover, Mulcair and the NDP’s head-scratching posture, throughout the election, to campaign against the Liberals to their right on a program of sound finance made no sense from a sober economic standpoint. As pointed out by Slate‘s senior business and economics correspondent, Jordan Weissmann, the present economic climate in Canada (in particular on the monetary side) favors a fiscal expansionary policy rather than one of retrenchment:
Last [Monday] night, the Liberals and Trudeau surged to victory, largely on the strength of their economic platform. This is good news for Canada: Given the state of the world economy, it is absolutely insane that more rich countries aren’t running larger deficits.
How come? Because this is an incredibly inexpensive moment for governments to borrow money. In fact, it may be the best time in recorded history [italics in original] for sovereigns to load up on debt. Interest rates have been hovering around zero more or less since central banks cut rates during the recession, and given the many economic headwinds before us, it may be a long while before they rise much higher. At points this year, countries have issued bonds with negative interest rates—meaning investors are literally paying governments to hold their money because they can’t think of anything safer to do with it. In circumstances like that, when the global bond markets are basically shouting “treat yo’self” at just about every finance minister in the developed world, the only reasonable move for a government is to borrow and use the free or nearly free money to make investments that might help the economy grow long-term, like building or fixing up roads, bridges, and other infrastructure. (Emphases and italics added.)
Former U.S. Secretary of the Treasury Lawrence H. Summers, writing in the Washington Post, perfectly summed it up in his reflection of the 2015 Canadian federal election by echoing Weissmann’s point (emphases added):
[I]n an era of extraordinarily low interest rates and slow growth, it is becoming increasingly clear that progressives do best when they reject austerity and embrace public investment. The British Labour Party and the Canadian NDP sought to demonstrate their soundness by embracing budget balancing as an objective. Their results were terrible.
(The title to a commentary, published in The Globe and Mail, penned by University of Ottawa economist, Marc Lavoie, also perfectly sums up Mulcair’s mystifying decision to go right: “The NDP goes down the ‘sound finance’ rabbit hole.”)
At the end of the day, Mulcair and the NDP committed an unforced political error by outmaneuvering themselves when they ceded their economic left flank to the center-left Liberals—and thus weakened their traditional social-democratic identity as the progressive conscience of Canada—by making one of the most stupefying decisions ever committed by a center-left political party: undermining its own progressive brand and credibility by embracing a narrative dictated by the right. In other words, in the political and cognitive linguistic sense, the NDP committed what UC Berkeley Prof. George Lakoff—in his Toronto Star piece, “How progressives can take back Canada,” published earlier this year—described as the following: “When you speak your moral language, you strengthen your political frames. When you speak in the language of your opponents, regardless of what you say, you only strengthen theirs” (italics added).
In light of Lakoff’s shrewd cognitive linguistic analysis, it is only fitting that the dueling campaign slogans for the Liberals and NDP were a study in contrasts as to who would decisively carry the anti-Harper banner as the authentic progressive change agent in the Canadian federal election. The Liberals ran under the emphatic banner of “Real Change” [italics added], while the NDP merely ran on “Ready for Change”—a difference with tremendous distinction that Canadian voters clearly understood when they voted for a Liberal majority government in a landslide last Monday.
Alas, that was the problem with Mulcair’s calculation. By veering right on economics to build up the NDP’s fiscal credibility that would appease austerians within the establishment commentariat (who, with unfathomable intellectual gusto, still embrace neoliberalism as if the 2008 financial crisis never happened), Mulcair and the NDP undermined another point of credibility: the credibility to be viewed by the vitally important bloc of center-left and left-wing anti-Harper voters as the progressive alternative in the best position to unseat the Tories.
Mulcair and the NDP’s tight embrace of the ideologically exhausted—and politically feckless—third way route to social democracy, in this election, is even more mystifying since they should have seen the Liberal “go left” playbook coming. Their provincial party in Ontario, the Ontario NDP, led by Andrea Horwath went down to ignominious defeat at the politically nimble hands of Premier Kathleen Wynne and the Ontario Liberal Party when the former allowed the latter to outflank them on the left during the 2014 Ontario provincial election. This defeat generated tremendous NDP grassroots backlash that manifested itself in a strongly worded public letter penned by party activists, during the provincial campaign, that excoriated Horwath for giving up on the party’s progressive base in a vain attempt to win over conservative voters in Ontario.
At the end of the day, by veering right during this year’s federal Canadian election, on a major economic policy issue, the NDP lost the all-important “progressive primary” to the Liberals that resulted in the center-left and left-wing bloc of Canadian voters to massively coalesce around the latter, during the late stages of the election, to be the standard-bearer of the progressive anti-Harper vote. A decision that proved quite decisively costly for Mulcair and the NDP such that it, alone, may have very well cost them the opportunity to become Canada’s governing party this past Monday. Theirs is a cautionary tale for center-left parties around the world: by moving to the center-right on the economy, you not only lose your credibility, you also lose your progressive brand that alienates both supporters and potential supporters on the left and center alike—that, ultimately, lead to losing elections.
On the other hand, the lesson of Trudeau and the Liberals’ victory for the center-left is this: it’s time to bury the losing, timid and uninspired ways of austere third way economics and embrace the winning path of bold, optimistic and progressive (pro-growth) Keynesianism. At their best, for center-left parties, embracing progressive economics is not just a laundry list of sound, constructive policies that will do much to economically lift up the many (rather than just the few), but it also goes to heart of the social liberal and social-democratic project: fighting for a hopeful and just vision of society where—to borrow the memorable words from the election victory speech of Prime Minister-designate Justin Trudeau—it means rejecting “good enough is good enough and that better just isn’t possible” and fighting for a future where the “better is always possible.”
“Victory Speech – Election Night” from the Liberal Party of Canada
“A look back at the key moments of the election campaign” from The Canadian Press
(Photo: Justin Trudeau at the Toronto Centre campaign office opening of Liberal Chrystia Freeland, October 2, 2013. Photo by Joseph Morris on Flickr under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 2.0 Generic license.)
If there’s one big takeaway from the Democratic debate last week is that the two leading candidates to be the party’s presidential standard-bearer in 2016, former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton and Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders, spent a dearth of time in outlining an effective pathway for progressive governance in the face of GOP hyper-obstruction. Now, the reasons for this glaring inadequacy, on the part of both candidates, on how they would practically solve the right-wing obstructionism gripping the Beltway to get effective governance—let alone liberal reforms—”moving again” are myriad. The reasons include the format of the debate, the scope of the moderator’s questions, and to the simple fact that Clinton and Sanders each had different debate aims that weren’t necessarily conducive to flesh out the issue more rigorously. (Clinton’s primary goal was to protect her left flank from Sanders by taking up the liberal mantle in the debate. While for Sanders, his key aim was to expand his coalition by highlighting his policy bona fides on issues of importance to key Democratic constituents—namely African-American and Latino voters—who are, at the moment, favorably disposed toward the former secretary of state.)
While Clinton and Sanders each failed to articulate, with specificity, their respective paths to forge a progressive agenda in the face of formidable, conservative gridlock in Congress, they did, however, consistently articulate broad themes that touched upon this issue. Their themes—though not as robustly fleshed out as some people would have like—did give debate viewers a window into their theories of political and legislative change in a hostile right-wing environment presently paralyzing government in Washington, D.C.
Hillary Clinton: It’s about a story
For Clinton, one of the most consistent themes—and one appreciated by liberals, in particular those with a concern for the nuts-and-bolts of effective politicking that, if done right, can aid in opening a political lane for achieving a liberal agenda—that she emphasized throughout the debate, with unequivocal firmness, was to highlight the pernicious obstinacy by the Republican congressional leadership. In particular, an obstinate leadership who, for far too long, has catered to an unyielding faction, within the GOP caucus, who zealously embraces a reactionary, anti-government nihilism against functional, competent and progressive governance itself.
Essentially, Clinton forcefully told an emphatic story and, without reticence (unlike President Barack Obama during the early years of his presidency), explicitly named the “who” in her narrative that are the sources behind the gridlock that’s stymying the ability to govern in our nation’s capital for the past several years. Specifically, for Clinton, the sources behind this logjam in the Beltway are politicians aligned with a dogmatic right-wing faction, in Congress, who are more interested in empty political symbolism and cheap sloganeering than basic governing in their efforts to turn back the clock and undo much of the 20th century’s liberal reforms from the Progressive Era to the Great Society.
Throughout the debate, Clinton punctuated her narrative with forceful rhetoric such as “President Obama . . . has laid out an agenda that has been obstructed [italics added] by the Republicans at every turn,” “the most important fight we’re going to have is defending [Social Security] against continuing Republican efforts to privatize it,” and “[Republicans] don’t mind having big government to interfere with a woman’s right to choose.” All in all, with firm clarity, she laid bare, again, as to not only who bears proper responsibility for the government impasses of the past several years, but also emphasized the extremism of those responsible.
In essence, Clinton articulated a much-needed story acknowledging a crisis—the dysfunctional obstruction of government—that many Americans are all too familiar with now, with one decisive element: she unequivocally and explicitly identifies the villains in her story who are the sources behind the problem highlighted by her narrative. And she justly indicts the Republicans—and, along the way, exposes their hypocrisy in which the GOP rhetoric about “leadership,” “liberty,” and “small government” belies the harsh reality that their shambolic record in Congress has stood for maddening dysfunctional gridlock and hardline anti-choice fervor using heavy-handed tactics through the machinery of government vis-à-vis congressional hearings.
Now, to many uninitiated observers of contemporary American politics, the above point may be quite unremarkable. But for liberals who have had to frustratingly endure with President Obama naively clinging, early on, to an unjustified faith that congressional Republicans believed in political comity and compromise (which explains, in part, his past reluctance to call them out no matter the direness of their misdeeds), it is remarkable—and pleasantly refreshing for those on the left and center-left—that a major Democratic politician would emphatically call out the GOP, without apology or hesitancy, as being the source behind the present problem hampering the ability to run government. This is in sharp contrast to certain actions taken by far too many Beltway Democrats (in particular those embracing the pro-corporate accommodationism of center-right third way politics).
Too many prominent Democrats, at times, continually fail to forcefully name the “villains” in their story in highlighting the problems gripping Washington, D.C. (Emory University Prof. Drew Westen, in his 2011 New York Times opinion piece, provides an example of this by highlighting a tendency that permeated President Obama’s early years in office: “[Obama’s] stories virtually always lack one element: the villain who caused the problem [italics added], who is always left out, described in impersonal terms, or described in passive voice, as if the cause of others’ misery has no agency and hence no culpability.”).
Moreover, many Beltway Democrats take it upon themselves, in a needless apologetic fashion, to shoulder a significant part of the blame for any political impasses in circumstances where the responsibility either lies exclusively or predominantly with the Republicans. This is a result, in part, of a tacit, uncritical acceptance of the GOP narrative that points to supposed liberal partisanship and overreach as being the main culprits behind the gridlock on Capitol Hill. This acceptance manifests itself with a significant number of centrist and conservative Democrats diagnosing the paralysis in Washington, D.C. by laying the fault at the feet of liberals. In particular, center-right Democrats assert that a robustly dominant liberalism, from the party’s so-called “progressive ideologues,” allegedly controls (in a pervasive manner) the institutional machinery of the Democratic Party. The effect of which—according to the Democratic center-right perspective—steers the party away from the broad middle of American voters who supposedly favor the idea that Democrats in Washington, D.C., no matter the circumstances, should always compromise with the Republicans such that moderately conservative to right-wing policies are favored.
In light of all of this, Clinton’s posture is both light years away from—and a conscious repudiation of—the Democrats’ penchant, at times, for unwarranted political self-flagellation and of throwing liberals under the bus that both ultimately fail to explicitly and forcefully point out, in warranted circumstances, the GOP’s short-sighted, single-minded (counterproductive) intransigence toward governing (i.e., the “rule or ruin” political syndrome) and antipathy against government itself. At the end of the day, considering the tendencies by some Democrats (in particular, third way Democrats), Clinton’s rhetorical offense is a remarkable feat in and of itself where, to play on one of Ronald Reagan’s most famous words, she, in effect, communicated in no uncertain terms during the debate the following point: The GOP is not the solution to our problem; the GOP is the problem.
As such, Clinton embraces a theory of legislative and political change in confronting the Republicans’ suffocating paralysis of government that, at its core, calls for a forceful narrative of naming and shaming them. The efficacy of her narrative lies with the fact that it compellingly explains the problem by clearly identifying the source behind Washington’s dysfunction that counters the GOP’s counter-narrative to the crisis. Before any candidate for public office can plausibly persuade a frustrated (and skeptical) electorate to convince voters to pull the lever for him or her on election day, one must, among other things, not only name and explain the problem that is of concern to voters, but also emphatically state who caused it as well. As Prof. Westen points out (in his previously mentioned New York Times piece), one of the crucial techniques behind FDR’s success as a potent, effective politician stemmed from his compelling, explanatory ability of directing the public’s attention to the sources behind the national crises of the day: “Franklin D. Roosevelt offered Americans a promise to use the power of his office to make their lives better and to keep trying until he got it right. Beginning in his first inaugural address, and in the fireside chats that followed, he explained how the crash had happened, and he minced no words about those who had caused it [italics and emphasis added].”
At the end of the day, however, this “naming and shaming” theory of change, alone, will probably not make any immediate liberal legislative inroads on Capitol Hill considering the likelihood that the Republicans will still keep both the House and Senate after 2016 with their (still) committed obstinacy unabated. And the mind-numbing lack, within Clinton’s narrative, of consistently and repetitively making a robustly explicit, substantive indictment against conservatism itself will, in the long run, be proven politically short-sighted.
By failing to attack conservatism, as defined and practiced by the GOP today, as a failed ideology, the ability to affirmatively reinvigorate a dynamic liberalism will be seriously hampered. The crucial effect of this ensures that attempts to dislodge the conservative creed, as the default political center, will wind up in failure. This is a catastrophe for the Democrats if they refuse to explicitly engage in a direct argument against conservatism with the dismal result of failing to shift the Overton Window from right to left to ensure a more favorable policy environment for the historic party of affirmative government, public action, positive liberty, and liberal reform.
In fact, one of the most glaring—and problematic—aspects of the first Democratic debate was the that there was no explicit mention of either word “conservative” or “conservatism” by any of the candidates on stage on Tuesday night (though, Sanders did use the the word “right wing” once) as a segue to a sustained, direct attack on contemporary conservatism itself, as a stagnant political credo, unable to fashion a credible, responsible, and practical alternative that can cope with the serious challenges facing America in the 21st century. These challenges include, among others, unsustainable inequality, the rise of ISIS, the lack of wide-ranging criminal justice reform, and climate change.
In sharp contrast, during the first GOP primary debate this past August, there was a direct, unambiguous broadside against liberalism itself where the word “progressive” was explicitly mentioned a few times, at least, by the insurgent candidate Dr. Ben Carson. (At one point, during the GOP debate, Carson articulated the standard movement conservative talking point by saying that he would “help people to actually understand that it is that progressive movement [italics added] that is causing them the problems.”)
It is inexcusable political malpractice for any Democratic candidate, who’s a member of a party that historically stands for positive government action and liberal reform (for much of its modern history at least), to fail in countering such withering rhetorical assault by neglecting to do two critical things. First, making an affirmative case for modern American liberalism and its core values (positive liberty, progressive internationalism, pragmatic and reformist governance, social progress, the common good, pluralism, progressive civic citizenship, and fair equality of opportunity). Second, indicting contemporary conservatism that has degenerated into a zealous pro-corporate, anti-freedom and anti-government ideology far removed from both Goldwater social libertarianism (pro-LGBTQ and pro-reproductive rights) and Taftian pragmatic conservatism (that rejects broad, knee-jerk antipathy against positive government action and public programs). So long as Democrats, unfortunately like all the Democratic contenders on stage during last Tuesday’s debate, fail to explicitly challenge conservatism head on and make an affirmative, robust case for liberalism, as a pragmatic and progressive public philosophy of responsible governance/activist reform, their ability to renew and advance a Democratic liberal agenda will be seriously circumscribed by the political center being continuously defined by center-right or right-wing ideas, values, and policies.
With all that said, despite its limitations as outlined here, what Clinton’s theory of change crucially does do—in an atmosphere of divided and contested government—is to give a critical argument through a compelling story. Specifically, it is a narrative that places the full weight of responsibility on GOP hyper-obstructionism for Capitol Hill’s dysfunction—a story that has a grounded potential of persuading the public to side with Clinton (should she win both the upcoming Democratic primary race and general election) and her fellow Democrats, in 2016 and beyond, in the ongoing public dispute about the paralysis of American governance. This is something that is not insignificant.
Critically, Clinton’s narrative creates a favorable political opening such that the electorate will be more likely than not to not only agree with her story about who is causing the crisis in governing, but also lays the groundwork to build political credibility and trust among voters such that they’ll be willing to give a Democratic White House and its congressional allies a more favorable hearing to the Democrats’ policy agenda and prescription to resolve Washington’s gridlock that can lead to legislative Democratic majorities in the 2018 midterm elections and afterward. This electoral success must occur if there is to be any realistic hope that the former secretary of state (should she, again, become the Democratic presidential nominee who wins the 2016 general election) can push much-needed progressive reforms through Congress which will legitimate the Clintonian narrative that the Democrats, not the Republicans, are the responsible party of effective government and constructive, progressive reform. In other words, a party who offers practical solutions, rather than cheap soundbites, in tackling the myriad of challenges facing America. In essence, being a governing progressive party (to borrow one of Clinton’s memorable lines from the debate) that “gets things done.”
Bernie Sanders: It’s about a movement
Differing from the former secretary of state, Bernie Sanders, during the debate, articulated his theory of political and legislative change to counter conservative congressional gridlock as one based upon a highly engaged, mobilized (mass) grassroots movement that can counter corporate special interests and pressure Congress to act on behalf of Main Street rather than Wall Street. In articulating his theory, Sanders laid out the vision for his campaign: “What this campaign is about is whether we can mobilize our people to take back our government from a handful of billionaires and create the vibrant democracy [italics added] we know we can and should have.”
Moreover, the Vermont senator crystallized his point by laying out the challenge facing ordinary citizens:
I have a lot of respect for president Obama. I have worked with him time and time again on many, many issues. But here’s where I do disagree. I believe that the power of corporate America, the power of Wall Street, the power of the drug companies, the power of the corporate media is so great that the only way we really transform America and do the things that the middle class and working class desperately need is through a political revolution when millions of people begin to come together and stand up and say: Our government is going to work for all of us, not just a handful of billionaires [emphasis and italics added].
Furthermore, he articulated why an organized mass movement of ordinary citizens is important to achieve progressive reform (emphases and italics added):
[T]he only way we can get things done is by having millions of people coming together. If we want free tuition at public colleges and universities, millions of young people are going to have to demand it, and give the Republicans an offer they can’t refuse.
If we want to raise the minimum wage to $15 bucks an hour, workers are going to have to come together and look the Republicans in the eye, and say, “We know what’s going on. You vote against us, you are out of your job.”
Essentially, Sanders’ theory of change attempts to mobilize a broad-based army of ordinary citizens. Specifically, it is an army engaged in both electoral action and non-electoral activism that can apply much-needed pressure on congressional Republicans such that they’ll think twice before embracing policies antithetical to the bread-and-butter economic concerns of everyday Americans rather than facing the political risk of doing otherwise.1
However, what Sanders’ theory of change is lacking is an essential detail that raises the following question: How can a mobilized mass movement cut through the conservative-engineered government shutdowns in a GOP-dominated Congress through political pressures bearing on elected officials. Specifically, can Democratic pressure be effective on elected conservatives in the right-wing-dominated House when they’re gerrymandered into favorable districts where the pressures from their conservative constituents and an organized, grassroots right are quite equally (if not more) potent in comparison to pressures from the progressive left (let alone the liberal center-left)? The liberal commentator, Paul Waldman, writing in The Washington Post, compellingly describes the glaring shortcoming of Sanders’ theory:
Let’s say [Bernie Sanders] succeeds in creating a mass movement behind parts of his agenda. Is he really going to be able to raise the political risk of opposing something like free public college tuition high enough to overcome House Republicans’ personal inclinations and their constituents’ wishes?
Imagine you’re a Republican representative who hails from a conservative district in Alabama or Idaho or Tennessee; we’ll call him Jim. Jim is right now stopping comprehensive immigration reform, which the GOP as a whole knows it needs to pass in order to have any chance of appealing to the growing Hispanic population. But Jim won’t sign on, because though that might be good for the party, it’s bad for him. His conservative constituents don’t want it, he personally doesn’t want it, and the only political risk he fears is a primary challenge from the right.
Is Jim really going to be scared and/or persuaded when a bunch of young people in America’s cities even — if there are millions of them — create a movement behind President Sanders’ plan for free college tuition? Don’t bet on it.
Other than Waldman’s off-base, snarky comment (“young people in America’s cities”) characterizing the base of Sanders’ grassroots movement (which is more broad-based than Waldman’s words suggest), his main point nonetheless hits the mark.
Yet, despite this valuable criticism, Sanders’ movement-fueled theory of change still possesses a salient potency. Why? Because the Vermont senator’s theory does, ultimately, resolve Waldman’s critique by its other aspects that were not fleshed out during the debate but have been nonetheless raised—directly or implicitly—by the candidate himself and his large, passionate throng of committed supporters throughout the Democratic primary campaign.
One aspect involves making the movement, as envisioned by Sanders and his supporters, as something that will continue to exist beyond 2016, regardless of the outcomes of the upcoming Democratic primary race and general election. In other words, the creation of a long-term movement not centered around a singular personality based on one or two campaign cycles but rather one motivated by the permanence of shared policies, ideas, and political values, i.e., a sustainable, issues-driven grassroots (mass) movement. Now, the other aspect of the movement is one in which its focus, in addition to applying political pressure on congressional Republicans, is to push the national conversation and public debate to the left and move the political center toward the progressive end of the spectrum, thereby pushing the Overton Window leftward.
Now, how do these two aspects of Sanders’ theory of change resolve Waldman’s macro criticism that such theory will not break the fever of GOP obstructionist intransigence in Congress? Well, they do so by their implicit understanding of the importance of 2020—a presidential election and census year. (The outcome of that electoral cycle will determine which party controls the critical process of congressional redistricting.) The understanding among both Sanders and his supporters is that building and sustaining a movement is a long-term project that takes a practical, long view of progressive politics.
As such, if done right—and the mobilized movement is able to achieve one of its critical goals (pushing the political dialogue and debate in the U.S. to the left) through sustained advocacy and activism (electoral and otherwise), disciplined communication/messaging, and continuous engagement with the issues in 2016 and beyond—then this creates a dynamic where more liberal perspectives will set the agenda, conversation, and issues for the critical 2020 election cycle. In other words, having that election be fought on a liberal terrain (rather than on a conservative landscape). And if this does occur, which inures to the benefit of both liberalism and Democrats savvy enough to adjust themselves to a changing political environment that allows them to ditch the center-right third way playbook (as Hillary Clinton has remarkably done, on many issues, this year), the consequences will be a significantly boon for both the Democratic Party’s electoral fortunes and the advancement of a renewed liberalism in America.
Now, one effect of this is that if the Democrats will be fighting the 2020 presidential year—with some electoral fundamentals already built-in to their benefit such as a higher level of voter engagement that exists during this type of election as opposed to midterms—in a political atmosphere dictated by progressive issues, then more likely than not this will beneficially impact the electoral fortunes of the Democratic Party at the federal level. The impact of which, arises from motivating, even more so, significant core constituencies of the party (like liberals and youth voters) to vote in even larger numbers that further increase the Democratic share in the electorate at higher levels beyond the ones that typically exist in a presidential election cycle. And if this does occur, then the significant higher turnout rates, among Democratic voters, will also positively impact down-ballot races such that the crucial result will be that the Democrats, rather than the Republicans, will be in a stronger position to win control of a significant chunk of governorships and state legislatures.
By achieving these electoral gains at the state level, the Democrats will be in the strong position in many states, again, to shape the redistricting process, such that the myriad of GOP congressional districts can be made more competitive. And, as such, finally break-up the obstructionist Republican grip in Congress with its pathology against the smooth and efficient running of government by removing the key source of the problem: the electorally uncompetitive, highly gerrymandered conservative districts that tend to send unyielding, hyper-ideological right-wing Republicans to the House of Representatives who are more interested in political theatrics and bluster than responsible governing and compromise.
Additionally, by raising the rates of voter participation, especially during midterm elections, can only further, over time, chip away at the Republican majorities in both chambers of Congress during each electoral cycle going forward in the post-Obama era. (Even beyond the aforementioned positive impact for Democrats from increasing voter turnout among Democratic-friendly constituencies, raising the voting rates in general, in particular among non-voters and lower-income Americans, as a policy white paper by Sean McElwee of Demos persuasively shows, positively contributes to increasing the likelihood of enacting progressive policies.)
As such, the aspect of Sanders’ theory of change—a sustainable, politically engaged mass movement—plays a crucial part in providing a practical pathway to solving the problem of GOP obstructionism. This is key because the existence of such a movement is critical to provide a grassroots organizational framework that can help sustain high levels of energy, interest, activism, and electoral engagement among large segments of Democratic-inclined voters (liberals, the youth, working class union members, people of color) whose voting rates tend to significantly drop off during non-presidential election cycles.
Essentially, Sanders’ vision of movement politics entails creating a permanently mobilized (highly motivated) grassroots force that is continually engaged in the electoral process and on advancing progressive issues capable of shaping and directing the policy and political orientation of not only the Democratic Party but the country as well. (This dynamic is similar to the effect that the liberal grassroots Democratic club movement had on the California Democratic Party and upon Golden State politics, in general, that coalesced around the California Democratic Council [CDC] during the 1950s and 1960s.)2 The practical effect of all this is to also set up, hopefully, through a vigorous grassroots citizens movement, a formidable and broad social base for the Democratic Party that the labor movement—in particular its more progressive segments, like the UAW (who embraced Walter Reuther‘s vision of social unionism)—once did, at its zenith, for the Democrats (from the New Deal era to the Reaganite ’80s). The existence, of which, can revitalize the party to become, once again, a sturdy electoral vehicle and social force for a robust liberalism.
At the end of the day, Sanders’ movement-centric theory of change is going to be crucial for the advancement of practical progressive politics and the renewal of liberalism in a post-Obama era that, unfortunately (more likely than not), will still be defined by Republican gridlock. Without a mobilized mass movement, among other things, any hope among Democrats that there’ll be a practical path to defeat conservative Republican obstruction is illusory.
The one-two punch: It’s about a story and a movement
When all is said and done, both Hillary Clinton’s and Bernie Sanders’ respective theories of change show much promise and potential, despite some of their (unresolved and resolved) shortcomings. Nonetheless, individually, the theories of change proffered by Clinton and Sanders may not be sufficient, alone, in solving the so-called “elephant in the room” that has befuddled Democrats and stymied the advancement of the liberal agenda. Specifically, it is the issue of how to defeat the Republican gridlock in Congress.
However, by combining both theories into a formidable political pincer strategy, the consequences of which will be positively twofold. First, it will put Republicans on the defensive by publicly naming and shaming them which, taken as a whole, indicts the GOP by faulting them as the source of government impasse and dysfunction, exposes their extremism, and, hopefully, goes to the next step by making an explicit, public argument against contemporary conservatism as a failed ideology. Second, it will undermine the GOP majorities in Congress through an engaged and mobilized mass movement that maintains meaningful levels of motivated energy, among a large swath of the Democratic coalition, beyond 2016, so as to increase the party’s voter turnout in the 2018 midterms and the all-important presidential cycle and census year of 2020. This pincer strategy has the compelling promise of undermining Republican obstructionism that, for the past several years, has bogged down government to a standstill and arrested the furtherance of President Obama’s second-term agenda.
At the end of the day, the Democrat who quickly grasps that it isn’t an either/or proposition as to which theory of change is the more effective route that can counter Republican intransigence (it’ll require the deft embrace and energetic advocacy of both) may very well be the candidate who can offer the more plausible solution to defeat GOP obstructionism. Which, ultimately, may result in persuading Democratic voters to elect such candidate to be their party’s presidential nominee in 2016 tasked with finally defeating the Republican logjam in Congress.
1. A critical aspect behind this bottom-up, people-powered movement is that it will be fueled, in part, by the politically creative energies of the emergent left (encompassing groups outlined in Bill Curry’s piece penned in Salon this past May). It is a grassroots left that is an antithesis to the top-down, Beltway-centric organizational left and center-left tethered too strongly, at times, to the prerogatives of the Democratic institutional establishment. As Curry notes the emergent left encompasses the following:
It’s the left of progressive unions trying out new forms of organizing and governance; of mass organizations like 350.org and Moveon.org who still cultivate grassroots democracy; of a Working Families Party battling the old Democrat hierarchy from within; of millions of low-wage earners, the underemployed and the self-employed; of pioneers working to strengthen the commons and experimenting with more democratic forms of ownership and production.
2. For an excellent treatment on the amateur Democratic club movement and its impact both on the California Democratic Party and Golden State politics, in general, during the postwar years see Jonathan Bell, California Crucible: The Forging of Modern American Liberalism (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2012); Jonathan Bell, “From Popular Front to Liberalism: Redefining the Political in California in the Post-World War II Era,” in Making Sense of American Liberalism, ed. Jonathan Bell and Timothy Stanley (Urbana, Chicago, and Springfield: University of Illinois Press, 2012), 38-61.
(Photo: Photographs of Hillary Clinton and Bernie Sanders. Clinton in New Hampshire, 2007; photo by Marc Nozell on Flickr under a Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license. Sanders in Des Moines, Iowa, 2015; photo by Phil Roeder on Flickr under a Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license. Both photos used in this article cropped by the post’s author.)
One of the paradoxes of American religious life is how the U.S., on one hand, comes out of the Enlightenment’s classical liberal heritage of religious disestablishment from the state, while, on the other hand, compared to other pluralist liberal democracies, like Europe and Canada, its denizens engage in religious participation at comparatively higher rates than their liberal democratic counterparts. Why is this so?
Now, the sort of explanations one gets after posing the aforementioned question usually—but not exclusively—involve variations of either the following arguments: (1) one of the reasons for the comparatively high rates of religious engagement among Americans, as compared to (for example) Western Europeans, has to do, as some argue, with the supposedly “backward” cultural-intellectual life of America in comparison to other modern liberal democracies, or (2) since the U.S., as argued by others, adheres more strongly to a Judeo-Christian heritage, compared to other liberal democracies, it has been relatively more resilient against certain secular influences that diminish engagement in religious life.
These sort of facile arguments—which are problematic from the standpoint of both historical scholarship and from findings of the social sciences, as well as being, at least in regard to the first argument, condescending in its tenor (to put it more mildly)—fail to offer persuasive explanations of America’s religious paradox. For example, in the U.K., British parliamentary democracy still recognizes an established religion (i.e., the Anglican Church) and the state, there, funds so-called “faith schools.” Yet, based on several studies (here, here, here, and here based upon certain data encompassing specific years between 2001 to 2012), rates of religious affiliation and participation are decidedly lower in the British Isles than in some other democracies without an established religion. Whereas, in the United States, such rates are higher, despite America’s historical heritage (unlike in Great Britain) of separating church and state that fosters both privatized religious activities and, to borrow the words from Princeton scholar Paul Starr, a “fully deregulated and unsubsidized religious economy.”
At the end of the day, the question is, again, what gives? Specifically, how does one explain this American paradox where religious engagement is higher in the U.S., despite having a long, historical heritage of separating church and state in its polity in stark contrast to other countries, like the U.K., Netherlands, and Australia, where establishment religion and/or direct non-preferential state support for religious entities exist?
Perhaps, one of the most persuasive explanations has do, in part, with the distinct intersection between religion and economics that exists because of the robust separation of church and state that gives rise to, again, a “fully deregulated and unsubsidized religious economy.” Based on several studies analyzing comparative religion and economics (such as “A Supply-Side Reinterpretation of the ‘Secularization’ of Europe” by Stark and Ianoccone in the Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 33 , The Churching of America, 1776-1990  by Finke and Stark, and The Challenges of Pluralism: Church and State in Five Democracies  by Monsma and Soper), Prof. Starr, in Freedom’s Power: The History and Promise of Liberalism, posits the following:
Inasmuch as churches in a free, pluralistic religious economy depend on voluntary contributions [as in the U.S.] rather than government subsidies [as in the U.K., Netherlands, and Australia], they tend to be more innovative and entrepreneurial than tax-supported churches in developing and marketing services that attract and keep members. Like any competitive market, an unregulated religious economy also allows stronger “firms” to emerge. . . . Where a single church has a monopoly, however, the incentives and opportunities for innovation are limited, and the proportion of the population attending church every week tends to be low. (Emphases added.) (p. 65)
Now, one of the fascinating aspects about the “religion and economics” analysis, which, again, arises out of explaining America’s religious paradox, is that it has caught the attention of those across the pond who wish to reinvigorate a renewed, dynamic religious engagement in pluralist, secular-inclined liberal democracies in Western Europe as exemplified by a 2012 commentary in the British daily, The Telegraph, entitled, “Only a free market in religion will save Anglicanism,” by Ed West. In the piece, West laments the moribund state of Anglicanism in the U.K. and states the following (emphasis added):
The problem with the Church of England is not just that it’s a broad church, encompassing some very, very liberal Christians and some very, very conservative ones, or that it’s led by people so open-minded that their brains have fallen out. Its real problem is establishment, which makes it less the nation’s conscience and more a dinosaur national industry, kept dysfunctional by state subsidies.
In essence, despite coming out of polities where state and religion are not autonomous entities but are intertwined, some individuals in those societies, like the Ed Wests of the world, who favor a renewal of religious life in civil society, go counter-intuitively in the opposite direction toward a more muscular American-style secularization guided by a framework of religious disestablishment of deregulated, private religious practices and an unsubsidized religious economy.
(In light of all this, it is important to note that discussions that involve comparing the religiosity—or lack thereof—between Americans and other Western democracies are, at times, problematic insofar as some sloppily conflate both religiosity/non-religiosity in civil society and the association/non-association between state and religion in a given polity as interchangeable things. Which, at the end of the day, makes such discussions both imprecise and simplistic, for such issues involve a degree of specificity and nuance as some nations are faith rich in civil society, yet highly secular pertaining to religious [dis]establishment and [de]regulation in the polity, while others, of course, take the opposite course.)
Now, the other fascinating aspect of this discussion pertains to the following related question: Why do Americans, in the main, embrace secular sensibilities toward the machinery of the state, yet still hold a relatively more benign view toward religion in civil society? Using the insights of Prof. Starr to answer this inquiry, it has to do, in part, to the particular tendency within classical liberalism that arose out of the Enlightenment that was embraced by several early founders of America that influenced, in part, their thinking in the construct of the U.S. Constitution, in particular the Bill of Rights’ Establishment Clause and Free Exercise Clause of the First Amendment. Prof. Starr writing, again, in Freedom’s Power, points out this tendency by delineating between two classical liberal approaches toward religion:
Broadly speaking, two currents in liberal political thought about religion emerged from the late seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the age of the Enlightenment. One tendency, particular strong in England and America, sought to develop a political framework of religious liberty that would accommodate diverse faiths. The second tendency, particularly strong in France, identified religion with superstition and unreason and attacked clerical power. The first was the spirit of Locke [and Thomas Jefferson], the second that of Voltaire [and Thomas Paine]; the first, liberalism toward religion; the second liberalism against religion. The first called for a shared public sphere, the second for a secular public sphere. The first sought to release minority faiths from the tyranny of the established faith [such as in several colonial-era Southern states, like Virginia, where the Anglican (later the Episcopalian) church enjoyed a legal monopoly to the disadvantage of Baptists and other evangelicals as noted by Prof. Starr]; the second sought to release science, education, and the mind itself from all faith and dogma. The first culminated in the American Revolution, the second in the French Revolution. (Emphases added.) (pp. 62-63)
Now, in light of this historical development, regarding American religious life, it is all the more perplexing that Christian Right elements should be at the forefront of establishing a sort political bridgehead that would eviscerate the separation of church and state in America in order to promote a disturbing notion that radically blurs the lines between ecclesiastical authority and the state. Why is this perplexing?
Because what has kept religion, in particular Christianity, comparatively robust in the United States as opposed to other Western liberal democracies, is the flourishing culture of religious disestablishment, i.e., privatized religion—essentially a religious practice akin to a laissez-faire, libertarian economic approach to the marketplace where the government has a de minimis—if not nonexistent—role in this sphere. As such, it is deliciously ironic that individuals associated with the Christian Right, some of who are the most ardent “market fundamentalists” (no pun intended) when it comes to economic beliefs, somehow experience a rather quick conversion—a “road to Damascus” sort of experience—in which all of sudden they see the virtues of an active state role when comes to the sphere of religious promotion and practice in America. (This sort of disconnect glaringly—and rightfully—frustrates both theists on the left and atheists/agnostics on the right for they ask the following: How can the Christian Right reconcile their sheer antipathy toward a government role in the broad, public economy, yet accepts, without critical circumspection, the notion of a “beneficent state” that supposedly has the wisdom to be actively—and affirmatively—involved in a matter that is essentially private in nature, i.e., the sphere of personal religious practice and conscience?)