Who is a moderate now? Who's a centrist?
Until recently, the answer to such questions was primarily ideological. Centrists were middle-of-the-roaders who rejected the purity of the ideological left and right. I will confess: I used to have considerable scorn for such people. They often acted as if being in the middle was a sign of intellectual superiority.
After all, on some issues the pure ideological position is often smarter than the split-the-difference compromise. If one side wants to build a bridge over a canyon and the other side doesn't, the smartest course isn't to build half a bridge that stops in thin air.
In recent years, though, the definition of centrism has been changing before our eyes as the culture has become more partisan. For instance, I haven't changed my conservative views on most issues, but because I am a staunch critic of President Donald Trump, many liberals now treat me as if I am a moderate or centrist. That makes sense if you think of Trump as a giant magnet next to our political compass. He serves as the true north for much of the right, which means much of the left reflexively marches south. That puts me somewhere like halfway between the two at east or west.
But I've come to believe there's something else going on. Karen Stenner, an economist who studies authoritarianism, has identified what she calls an "authoritarian predisposition." She is quick to note that authoritarianism isn't synonymous with conservatism or any other ideological framework. Authoritarianism, she writes, "is a functional disposition concerned with maximizing 'oneness' and 'sameness' especially in conditions where the things that make us one and the same — common authority, and shared values — appear to be under threat."
Historically, American conservatism has balanced conflicting impulses. It has been antagonistic to sudden, drastic, social change while at the same time it fully embraced — at least in theory — the free market. The problem is that economic liberty fuels change more than almost anything else. What Joseph Schumpeter called "creative destruction" constantly replaces old means of production with new ones. Moreover, most conservatives were defenders of existing traditional institutions and norms. This deference to courts, elections and the rule of law put structural limits on the reach of culturally conservative programs.
A similar uneasy fusion endured on the left. In economics, capitalism was seen as something that needed to be harnessed, controlled or even caged. But in the cultural marketplace, the left had its own version of creative destruction.
But both sides kept these internal tensions in check. Now the equilibrium is breaking down before our eyes. Both left and right have their own versions of "cancel culture" now. Leading conservatives routinely heap scorn on "market fundamentalism," championing everything from protectionism and industrial planning to state meddling in social-media platforms (despite the fact that the right dominates the very outlets they insist are "censoring" them). Prominent intellectuals flirt with authoritarianism, and even monarchy.