Fusionism, a new book by Stephanie Slade, a Senior Editor at Reason, attempts to make sense of the seemingly incoherent New Right. Although Slade proposes a renewal of fusionism as a remedy to conservatism’s drift and the challenges facing a divided Republic, the book’s greatest strength lies in its analysis of the trends to date.
The Republican Party, for all its faults, was supposed to understand (instinctively, if not always intellectually) limited government, rule of law, and the basics of economics. From its elected leaders, though, we have gotten tariffs, increased public debt, dodgy respect for habeas corpus in immigration enforcement, and the Saturday Night Live tragicomedy of DOGE (a virtue-signaling, clumsy, and cruel flash in the pan destined to die on the vine when it removed entitlements from the chopping block). The coalition that constitutes the New Right has abandoned conservatism, and instead sells its own form of populist interventionism.
Slade starts by painting a rather glum sketch of the contemporary scene. Within the convoluted and heterogeneous mess she labels “the Dissident Right,” she identifies three major strains:
- the predominant national conservatives, who are eager to use the coercive power of the modern administrative state to advance (allegedly) conservative causes and push for national primacy;
- the theocons, who dream of “immanentizing the eschaton” by creating a state theocracy to impose (their understanding of) a transcendent moral order;
- the neoreactionaries, the Pajama-Boy Nitzscheans who have been given legitimacy to spew their blend of vitriol and conspiracy.
The NatCons have turned their back on the basics of markets and skepticism about administrative power (how sad in this 250th anniversary year of The Wealth of Nations!). The theocons would repoliticize salvation after three centuries of religious tolerance within Christendom. And, beneath all that, the country’s baser instincts toward power and suppression are flourishing within the neoreactionary right. On the other side, the interventionist excesses of American socialism, with DEI, cancel culture, and continued growth of the administrative-welfare state, are equally horrifying. To paraphrase Richard Nixon, we are all interventionists now.
The titular Fusionism is shorthand for the collaboration of old-school conservatives and libertarians that held in America from 1945 to 1989, or thereabouts. Members of that alliance disagreed on details, but shared a horror for the rise of collectivism, the welfare-administrative state, and the existential threat of communism.
Slade’s personal history of the movement is a rich and readable complement to some of the deeper treatments of the ideas (notably George Carey’s magisterial compendium, Freedom and Virtue: The Conservative/Libertarian Debate, and my own work with Nathan Schlueter of Hillsdale College, Selfish Libertarians and Socialist Conservatives? The Foundations of the Libertarian-Conservative Debate). Slade’s arguments are clean and incisive, and the prose is a pleasure to read, even if Slade occasionally indulges in the journalist’s déformation professionnelle of descriptive wordiness.
Slade points to several explanations for the rise of the Dissident Right: the failed gamble of China’s accession to the WTO without subsequent human rights improvements, the post-2007 bank bailouts, the costly debacle of attempted nation-building in Iraq and Afghanistan, immigration, those left behind by globalization, and the authoritarianism of DEI.
These are all plausible. But I suspect that Slade is a bit too kind: the American administrative-welfare state is the real villain in this story. First, because it caused most of the problems that have energized the Dissident Right (crowding out of civil society, a culture of dependence, and erosion of the family). Second, because income inequality in the US is associated with cronyism replacing genuine economic activity — a problem exacerbated by the gutting of K–12 and college education standards by educrats, along with the rise of regressive regulation, including job licensing. Third, because the Dissident Right doesn’t see the irony: its proposed use of the state is exactly what generated the outcomes it decries.
In just half a century, the US shifted from teaching Latin and calculus in high school to teaching basic English and algebra in college. It took a mere generation for discourse to collapse from Ronald Reagan’s gentlemanly and beautiful oratory to Donald Trump’s boorish grade-school-level word salad. What happened, in discourse and substance, between 1989 and 2016? Slade points to the populist conservative Pat Buchanan, but we could also mention Dick Cheney; the vice president was more refined, but also a lot more effective at pushing the power of the unitary executive and expanding the administrative state. There have always been “proto-Dissident Right” voices in America, Slade argues, but they were once kept in check by a loose coalition of libertarians, decent folk, fusionist conservatives, and the communist threat. The pre-1968 Dixiecrat segregationists, the Evangelical Christian Right under Reagan, Pat Buchanan, Dick Cheney and the more radical neocons under George W. Bush were always there. But there was always accountability, restraint, and public decency.
President Trump is tapping into real ills and soul sicknesses in American society and the American economy; but he is doing so in an ugly way that appeals to the lowest common denominator. Even FDR, Huey Long, Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, and Barack Obama, for all their interventionist instincts and actions and their loose interpretations of the Constitution, operated under a veneer of respectability, and showed some shame when they got caught with their pants down.
Slade proposes a renaissance of fusionism as an antidote to the Dissident Right, in a bid to save both the Republic and the Spirit of ‘76. She reminds us that political analysis will require new language. In a similar spirit, I have long argued that the left-right taxonomy once made sense — in post-1789 France, where the left represented the Jacobin radicals like Robespierre, the centrists were today’s classical liberals, and the right favored a return of the monarchy. But the Dissident Right is a misnomer. This modern movement Slade names does not align with the American conservative tradition, and is thus not clearly of “the Right.” Even if it seeks nativist or religious or other allegedly conservative goals, it does so by promoting an increasingly intrusive and muscular central government.
How little we have progressed since 1944, when F.A. Hayek dedicated The Road to Serfdom to “the socialists of all parties.”
Today’s classical liberals are, indeed, alone in a two-front war. The paternalistic Left and the Dissident Right both aggressively push for social and economic control. Liberty, limited government, and free markets have few defenders. Fusionism is an appealing alliance, as Slade proposes it. But who will be the fusionist warriors for individual liberty? Where are the moderates to defend private property? Where have all the pro-business, small-government, free-trade conservatives gone? We can hope that there is a Nockian Remnant out there, biding its time while the dissident storm passes. In the meantime, the libertarian wing of fusionism stands alone, as core agreements have largely been abandoned by those who still call themselves conservatives, but now need hyphenations to distinguish conservatism from their preferred flavor of interventionism.
