Crunchy Converts
I have just finished reading Rod Dreher's Crunchy Cons, and I quite liked it. What is a "crunchy con," you ask? Let me attempt an explanation by quoting the rather unwieldy subtitle of Dreher's book: "How Birkenstocked Burkeans, gun-loving organic gardeners, evangelical free-range farmers, hip homeschooling mamas, right-wing nature lovers, and their diverse tribe of countercultural conservatives plan to save America (or at least the Republican Party)." Despite the subtitle's rather cutesy invocation of some Bobo class markers, a crunchy con, according to Dreher, is not simply a Republican who wears Birkenstocks. Crunchy connery, as Dreher conceives of it, is neither a political ideology nor a lifestyle choice, but a kind of cultural sensibility, in the tradition of Russell Kirk, which informs politics and lifestyle choices. To be a crunchy con is to reject the economic libertarianism of the mainstream Republican party and the sexual/lifestyle libertarianism of the mainstream Democratic party. Crunchy connery is countercultural because it renounces the "consumer choice uber alles" philosophy that seems to typify much of mainstream culture. The book is not an anti-capitalist rant; it recognizes the free market as the system most conducive to general human flourishing, but it suggests that when the free market becomes the model, not only for our economic system, but also for the ordering of our personal lives and choices, we're in trouble.
Inevitably, the charge of self-righteousness will be leveled at a book like this. Since the book is partly about the best way to live one's life, the best way to find meaning and purpose in one's existence, it cannot completely avoid a preachy tone, but Dreher does his darnedest to make the preaching folksy and self-deprecating, and he mostly succeeds. He comes across as sort of the Garrison Keillor of orthodox/traditionalist Catholics, and while I think that's the best way to ingratiate himself with the general public on this issue, I can't help pining for some Jonathan Edwards-esque prose. Dreher's tone reminds me at times of the minister in You Can Count on Me, who reluctantly admits that fornication is a sin, but says, in effect, that they don't like to focus on that right away; when the Laura Linney character asks if it wasn't better for people when they were told that their immortal souls were in danger, the minister answers "no." I might answer that question somewhat differently, and so, I suspect, might Dreher, but he doesn't want to hurt his cause or to alienate his audience. I don't know about the rest of you, but I sometimes find it rather bracing to be told that we're all sinners in the hands of an angry God.
NRO has instituted a Crunchy Con blog, which thoughtfully addresses some of the questions raised by this book, and others in the blogosphere have added their considerable insights. Like some of those commenters, I'm ultimately less interested in Dreher's attempts to define a "movement" or carve out a place for "crunchiness" within mainstream conservatism than in his personal conversion tale, which I find quite appealing. Anyone for whom the exhortation to " sell all you have and follow Me" has some resonance, cannot fail to be affected by a book like Dreher's. It's the element of personal witness (Dreher's and his interviewees) I find most compelling here, and I think the book is ultimately more adept at recognizing the longing of many traditional conservatives for a way of life that's more consistent with their cherished principles than it is at consolidating a crunchy conservative "base."
Inevitably, the charge of self-righteousness will be leveled at a book like this. Since the book is partly about the best way to live one's life, the best way to find meaning and purpose in one's existence, it cannot completely avoid a preachy tone, but Dreher does his darnedest to make the preaching folksy and self-deprecating, and he mostly succeeds. He comes across as sort of the Garrison Keillor of orthodox/traditionalist Catholics, and while I think that's the best way to ingratiate himself with the general public on this issue, I can't help pining for some Jonathan Edwards-esque prose. Dreher's tone reminds me at times of the minister in You Can Count on Me, who reluctantly admits that fornication is a sin, but says, in effect, that they don't like to focus on that right away; when the Laura Linney character asks if it wasn't better for people when they were told that their immortal souls were in danger, the minister answers "no." I might answer that question somewhat differently, and so, I suspect, might Dreher, but he doesn't want to hurt his cause or to alienate his audience. I don't know about the rest of you, but I sometimes find it rather bracing to be told that we're all sinners in the hands of an angry God.
NRO has instituted a Crunchy Con blog, which thoughtfully addresses some of the questions raised by this book, and others in the blogosphere have added their considerable insights. Like some of those commenters, I'm ultimately less interested in Dreher's attempts to define a "movement" or carve out a place for "crunchiness" within mainstream conservatism than in his personal conversion tale, which I find quite appealing. Anyone for whom the exhortation to " sell all you have and follow Me" has some resonance, cannot fail to be affected by a book like Dreher's. It's the element of personal witness (Dreher's and his interviewees) I find most compelling here, and I think the book is ultimately more adept at recognizing the longing of many traditional conservatives for a way of life that's more consistent with their cherished principles than it is at consolidating a crunchy conservative "base."
posted by Kate Marie | 3:46 PM | Permalink
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11 comments
11 Comments:
What I find most interesting about the "crunchy con" debate is how angry both conservatives and liberals have become over the suggestion by Dreher that the personal is not, in fact, the political.
Maybe I'm oversimplifying, but the difference between a liberal and a conservative is nothing more (and nothing less) than a dispute about government power--how, when, where, and to what extent. Everything else is negotiable. A conservative can drink soymilk and a liberal can drive an SUV and neither is necessarily betraying his political principles. Through their purchases and habits, they may be helping to advance or justify certain cultural trends or partisan policies, but I just don't think that's the same as being either "liberal" or "conservative."
But, Jeff. What about cultural liberals and conservatives?
Liberals who live in traditional marriages vs. Conservatives who choose serial monogamy/marriage? Atheists vs. evangelicals?
How does that fit in with defining the difference as a dispute about government power?
Those are good questions, but they require a better working knowledge of the ins and outs of conservativism than my feeble brain can handle. Perhaps Kate Marie can tell us if the book tackles those deeper issues. I supose the question comes down to what cultural conservatives do with government influence and power once they get it. I think most people, even many who agree with them, would agree that sometimes cultural conservatives aren't fiscally or politically conservative at all.
My point, though, is that when the initial "crunchy con" article ran in National Review a couple years back, the debate was mostly about superficial shopping and lifestyle choices, i.e., "Can I still shop at Fresh Fields and eat tofu and call myself a conservative?" I'm probably dwelling too much on one small point here, but I'd rather not have the right join the left in judging my politics based on what they glimpse in my grocery cart.
I understand your point, Jeff, and I *do* think that that's where a lot of the anger and discomfort about Dreher's thesis (such as it was/is) came from. People -- especially those who immerse themselves in ideological/political battles -- tend to think even of those superficial things (what one wears on one's feet, where one buys groceries, what kind of car one drives) as personal "brands" which express political affiliations. I'll even admit that, when my husband had to get a new car a year and a half ago and he looked into a hybrid, I absurdly felt a momentary twinge of distaste for the idea, precisely because it seemed like such a "liberal" thing to do.
Dreher definitely wants to get beyond that kind of superficial political branding, but I think he also wants to define certain ways of living (homeschooling, a commitment,a la Tolkien, to environmentalism out of concern for the proper stewardship of nature and its creatures/resources, involvement in neighborhood and community, and, yes, support of non-industrial farming, among other things) as inherently conservative -- not Republican, but conservative.
And I think one of his purposes is to get the Republican party (with which he identifies and for whom he usually votes) and people who call themselves "conservatives" to expand their notion of conservatism beyond the G.O.P. platform *so that* they will consider some of those ways of living -- which they may have previously associated with "liberalism" -- as consistent with their conservative ideals.
"I think most people, even many who agree with them, would agree that sometimes cultural conservatives aren't fiscally or politically conservative at all."
-- That's absolutely true, and it's something with which Dreher clearly agrees, but his book -- which is mostly a meditation on cultural rather than political conservatism -- doesn't really attempt to imagine the political consequences of the conservatism he envisions or its implications for government size and power.
It sounds silly to say it, but I think his point is not to get people to change their politics, but to change their lives.
And there is a measure of sanctimony implied by a project like that. But I think that comes with the territory any time someone wants to write about what constitutes a good life.
Anyway, I'm rambling at this point, and I've probably only muddied the waters here. I must say I have a soft spot for Dreher's "conversion tale" approach. That's one of the most powerful aspects of Chambers' Witness for me -- though Witness is of course the superior book.
No, you're not rambling; your comments have helped me better understand what Dreher is getting at. Although I'm no "crunchy con," I'm actually far more sympathetic to Dreher than I am to the folks who see some whiff of political disloyalty in the choices he and his family have made. (It probably helps that I have some friends who were "crunchy cons" before there was a name of them.)
The thing is, though, Dreher has a unique advantage over any aspiring crunchy con. As a full-time pundit whose job depends on it, he has the time to ponder the political implications of his every purchase. His comment on the Crunchy Con Blog about how buying factory-farmed meat perpetuates regulations that hurt small-time meat providers is pretty convincing--but given our bountiful choices, the labyrinth of federal law, and the complexity of our economy, who has time to research the moral and ethical implications of everything they eat? That's probably why I get so rankled by those who pass judgment on minor lifestyle choices: Everyone, liberal or conservative, has to prioritize, so it seems silly, and petty, for the conservative vegetarian to pass judgment on the conservative who won't shop at Wal-Mart, or vice-versa, especially when both of their choices stem from the same over-arching political philosophy.
Yeah, I'm with you about Dreher's advantages as a journalist and pundit, and about how annoying it is when some pass judgment on minor lifestyle choices. I think Dreher tries to avoid that kind of judgmentalism in the book, for the most part. But even though he tries to stick to descriptions of his own choices and their philosophical underpinnings, he can come across as . . . I don't know, occasionally kind of snotty. The most annoying moment in the book for me was his recounting of how he and his wife decided where they wanted to live when they moved to Dallas. They ended up in a "gentrifying neighborhood" in the city proper --in a craftsman bungalow! Given that (as he admits) a craftsman bungalow in the L.A. area costs about four times as much as he paid for his, all I could think when I read that little story was, "You just spent about twelve pages describing your search for a home that would be in harmony with your ideals, that would bring beauty and warmth to your life, blah blah blah, and the payoff for your reader is you bought a craftsman bungalow?? You bastard."
But don't get me wrong. I actually enjoyed the book. :)
But I'm being a hypocrite, since I basically endorsed the Jonathan Edwards approach
KM, don't feel guilty about looking at hybrids. CIV actually owned a ... Volvo ... a few years back. Needed a wagon and that was the best in the price range. (Though it definitely was not my best car. Talk about sluggish acceleration. I nearly got killed merging onto Canal Rd every day.)
CIV is opposed to organic gardening on principle. If only organic farming were available, the poor wouldn't eat as well or much and more of our land (and people) would be used in raising food. In principle CIV favors GM food for similar, but opposite, reasons. But in practice, CIV will eat anything tasty and edible and does not want to overpay. Plus CIV likes that preservatives keep the food fresh longer.
I'm gonna be watchin' your choice of footgear, KMa
I'm not opposed in principle to genetically modified food either, CIV, but even though I too easily succumb to junk food, I'm increasingly shying away from overtly fake food for my actual meals. For example: "lemonade" that includes no lemons, only corn syrup and water; you can drink half a gallon of the stuff and not get any Vitamin C. Or "fish" sticks that are actually ground-up eels in sodium-drenched breading. Or Wonder Bread, which isn't really "bread" by any civilized standard. Or hamburger buns loaded with salt. Or pork "ribs" that are actually ground-up junk meat reformed to resemble bones and infused with fake "smoke" flavor created in vats at a factory near the airport in Newark, New Jersey.
Beyond politics or ethics, the crunchy cons have another good reason for their culinary choices: much of our mass-market food contains little nutrition and tastes like crap.
Oh, thanks a lot, Jeff. Yuck. I'll never enjoy "fish" sticks or "ribs" again.
(And I'll be reading those labels more carefully.)
Topdog,
If I could afford Birkenstocks, I'd buy them.
Jeff and CIV,
Dreher only writes a little about industrial farming practices, but what he does write is enough to convert me to grass-fed beef and free-range chicken (from small farms) for the rest of my life.
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