For many, “liberal” has become a term of abuse. It is less and less used in its broader sense: a set of values around openness that all in the West shared and were keen to promote. This big tent of “liberal democracy” was for a long while the only attractive political model on the planet, even if it wasn’t quite the end of history. Today, the terms is used more as an indicator of difference, separating out liberals from conservatives, nationalists, socialists, greens.
A lot has been written about the crisis of liberal values. I had an opportunity to think more about it during the last online café philosophique which I host for my generous supporters. Our discussion got me thinking about the reasons why much of the world has lost faith in liberalism.
The most comforting explanation is that anti-liberal forces are just more powerful than we thought – strong enough to stifle people’s natural desire for freedom and democracy. Most notably, Vladimir Putin and Xi Jinping have exerted iron grips on their countries and stamped out even the tiniest shoots of liberal hope.
But this fails to account for the decline in enthusiasm for liberal values in established democracies. In Hungary, Viktor Orbán was voted in proudly advocating illiberal democracy, challenging the assumption liberalism and democracy come as a package. Poll after poll has shown trust in democratic governments decline, while it has risen in several autocracies. The 2020s saw public support for democracy in Latin America dip below 50% for the first time in decades. This has undermined democracy itself. The Economist Intelligence Unit’s Democracy Index has shown a global decline in democracy’s reach since 2014.
A more troubling explanation is that liberal democracy has simply not lived up to its own values and promise. Its claims to virtue are increasingly seen as hollow. There is a gap between what liberalism should be and what it actually is, and that gap has to be closed if it is to prevail.
Liberal democracy has three key features: it is plural, progressive and participatory. Plural, because it tolerates – even encourages – citizens to live according got their own, different values, so long as they do not compromise the rights of others to do the same. It is progressive because it is rooted in the enlightenment idea that we do not have access to eternal truths but are in an unending process of understanding ourselves and the world better through the application of reason and science. And it is participatory in the obvious sense that everyone has a say in how they are governed.
All three of these proud claims now look questionable. Take liberalism’s plurality. This has never meant “anything goes”, but increasingly liberal nations have come to be seen as far less tolerant of diversity than they profess. This has been most evident in foreign policy, where liberal states have repeatedly forged alliances with oppressive regimes when it suits them, while “lecturing” the ones they do not like. And they have of course been willing to use lethal force to oust the regimes that they deem beyond the pale, especially, it seems, if they threaten their energy supplies.
But even domestically, pluralism’s limits sometimes appear to be quite narrow. Hostility to immigrants has risen in many European countries, while racism has remained widespread and Islamophobia endemic.
Far from seeming to be tolerant and open, liberalism is now easily portrayed as imperialistic and monolithic, seeking to impose a substantive set of values on everyone. It talks of respect but shows none at all for any culture that dares to value religion, traditional gender roles, or takes a different view of the right balance between social harmony and individual liberty.
This links to the progressive claim. Liberal nations show no signs at all of believing that they have anything to learn from others. They act as though they have a monopoly on justice and virtue, quick to criticise other nations but never open to the idea that they might have some things to teach us. Remember that John Stuart Mill thought that liberal societies need to encourage “experiments in living”, since they could never assume they already had the best system in place. Today, however, liberal societies act as though any other way of organising society were by definition inferior. Experiments in living are now aberrations to be stamped out, not laboratories to learn from.
Finally, even the claim to be participatory looks less impressive than it did. In the USA, it is clear that no one can get elected without millions of dollars behind them. Trump and Berlusconi have proved that if you’re rich, you can become president even if you’re obviously not qualified for the job. In any case, elections are only part of the story. The idea that big business and the most powerful determine what governments ultimately do is no longer a far-left conspiracy theory but common sense.
Again, foreign policy makes the boast of democracy look even weaker. How many times have western democracies supported coups that have overturned the results of democratic elections when they don’t like who has won, as in Algeria? And why is it that dictatorships who open their economic markets don’t seem to get as criticised as those that don’t?
Some of these criticisms are often exaggerated and I don’t think they add up to a case to reject liberal democracy. Something which is nowhere near as good as it claims to be can still be better than the next best alternative. Still, understanding these weaknesses should make us less surprised that the clamour for liberal democracy is not as loud as we expected it to be.
Liberal societies need to take a good hard look at themselves and address these objections. The pluralism issue is inherently problematic because of the well-understood problem that tolerance cannot mean toleration of intolerance, and pluralism cannot mean laissez-faire relativism. Still, the profession of tolerance is not always matched by its practice, and nor is it always offered equally. Liberalism has to find a way of being more accommodating to conservatives.
Similarly, there should be less superior triumphalism and some recognition that even if liberal democracy is the best system overall, we have plenty to learn from other traditions. And more has to be done to ensure that democracy means more than an opportunity to cast a vote every few years.
Can liberal democracy renew itself and once again become an object of global desire rather than derision? I hope so, but it cannot be taken for granted.
On my radar
In another example of “liberalism” being used in its narrow sense, a study suggest that liberals are quicker to punish people in their in-group and conservatives members of out-groups. Intriguingly, it seems children pick up on these patterns from a young age.
We’re often told that unconscious bias is almost impossible to overcome. A new study pointed to the fact that “HR specialists tended to offer male candidates a higher salary than female candidates.” However, it found that “when participants were reminded that they had a collective responsibility to reduce the gender pay gap, this difference disappeared.” Who’d have though just pointing out that a powerful, unconscious force was at work could neutralise it?
Anti-natalism is the position that it is wrong to have children. David Benatar argued in this piece from the Aeon archive that this is not just because of the harm our offspring would do to others and the world, but because the lives of those children will probably not be worth living. It’s highly counter-intuitive but it’s a challenge to work out exactly why it’s misguided. (Maybe a topic for another time.)
I’ve put out a very unusual episode of the Microphilosophy podcast. Back in February 2014 I interviewed legendary guitarist Wilko Johnson at the Giants of Rock Festival in Minehead. We talked about getting old but continuing to rock, a life-affirming choice Wilko and his mostly middle-aged audience both made with glee. Johnson died last week, aged 75. The interview wasn’t recorded for broadcast so its backstage, rough-and-ready aesthetic is by accident not design. But I think the informality of the conversation makes a welcome change and gives a good sense of the man himself.
If you haven’t seem the film about the “black Woodstock”, Summer of Soul, I highly recommend it. Great music, a great story and important social history. Maybe we should call Woodstock the white Harlem Cultural Festival…
That’s it for now. You can sign up to receive these Microphilosophy newsletters direct to your inbox below. Remember that if you buy books online, you can avoid the tax-dodging giant and buy through my affiliate shop which gives 10% to independent bookshops and 10% to me.
Until next time, if nothing prevents, thanks for your interest.