No one who knows me well could ever imagine my becoming a conservative, or that I ever was one. Ironically, most of my extended family has always assumed I used to be, then somehow got seduced away from it.
Yes, I came from a family of Evangelical pastors, and my clan (on both sides) is deeply conservative. And the hidden truth is that I have, since my pre-teens, gone an entirely different direction in worldview. I am not now, nor would I ever aspire to be, a conservative – though I certainly tried to remain in that world socially, because I didn’t know how to be in the world beyond.
I suppose it would be intellectually satisfying to go into Bertrand Russell mode, a la “Why I Am Not a Christian,” and produce a meticulously reasoned argument against conservatism to justify my decision. Alas, other arguments take precedent – because it wasn’t really a decision.
The objective, empirical truth is that I couldn’t be a conservative if I wanted it with all my heart. I know; I was raised from the crib to be one, tried my damnedest, and failed at every turn.
And I failed for a reason I can’t do anything about: I am predisposed, due to a gene that regulates my nervous system’s dopamine receptivity, to personality traits and behavioral attributes that are distinctly inconsistent with conservatism.
Conservatives tend to be risk-averse, and tout it as a desirable trait; I am not. Conservatives tend to be change-averse, favoring uniformity over novelty, and tout that as an essential trait; I am not. Conservatives tend to favor authority over consensus, and tout it as a mandatory trait; I cannot.
Beyond my innate dopamine receptivity limitations, there’s the amount of tissue my genes deposited in my amygdala; my anterior cingulate cortex; my insula. These brain components (and others) play significant roles in emotional response and cognitive processing that affect how we experience the world and other people – invariably influencing the development of our political selves.
Is this to say that political bias is all nature, no nurture? Not at all; our social experiences as we grow certainly play a part. The influences of family, friends, and partners are certainly impactful. And is it possible for the nervous system to change over time? Yes, and many people experience such change; but they change over time – often decades – which is what it takes to permanently sway the human nervous system.
My personal neurophysiology (which I didn’t choose, but which was bequeathed to me at birth) aside, would I be a conservative, if I could choose to be?
No. On the next level, there are the social factors of conservatism.
Conservatives are exceedingly tribal, and having been born into that tribe, I am very clear on what it means (and takes) to be a part of it, long-term. The biggest factor here is that it is exclusive; to be a conservative is to be loyal to that tribe, above all else.
This is called cognitive clustering – being part of a social collective of people who think alike, believe the same things, and embrace the same worldview. All such groups – conservative or otherwise – are deeply toxic to individuals, groups, and society overall; what we call ‘echo chambers’ weaken us intellectually and emotionally, make us worse at understanding the world and each other, and render us poor decision-makers. It is far healthier for me personally, and for the society overall, if I steer clear of any group that expects me to be exclusively loyal to it. (And that includes the liberal and progressive groupings, if they demanded such loyalty – but they don’t.)
Okay, if my genes were not an issue and conservative tribal membership weren’t exclusive, and I could choose it – would I?
No. The loyalty conservatism demands isn’t the only factor that bars me; there is the fact that the conservative tribe is homogenous. Conservatism pointedly eschews cultural diversity.
It is an empirical fact that humankind is wildly diverse, and historically evident that no one group, no one culture, no one ideology, no one worldview is definitively superior to all others. It is, on the other hand, historically evident and empirically demonstrable that when social collectives are culturally and cognitively diverse, they are stronger, more resilient, more productive, safer, and more tolerant. If I am faced with the choice of that or not, I would choose that - for myself and for my children.
If conservatism offered that diversity, and it were completely up to me, I might choose conservatism – but then, of course, it wouldn’t be conservatism.
I am not a conservative because the United States, by design, stands opposed to the core attribute of conservatism: uniformity. Its opposite, diversity, is the entire point of the United States. Congressional minority leader Hakeem Jeffries said it this way:
“We believe that in America our diversity is a strength - it is not a weakness - an economic strength, a competitive strength, a cultural strength... We are a gorgeous mosaic of people from throughout the world. As John Lewis would sometimes remind us on this floor, we may have come over on different ships but we’re all in the same boat now. We are white. We are Black. We are Latino. We are Asian. We are Native American.
“We are Christian. We are Jewish. We are Muslim. We are Hindu. We are religious. We are secular. We are gay. We are straight. We are young. We are older. We are women. We are men. We are citizens. We are dreamers.”
As I understand the United States, this is the core value it represents. I cannot imagine being part of a group that doesn’t embrace that value.
But then, I’m making a point that’s completely academic: I couldn’t be a conservative if my life depended on it. I don’t qualify.
Fortunately, the world beyond the boundaries of the conservative community turned out to be very different than I understood it to be when I was younger, and embedded in the fold: nothing I was told about Democrats or liberals turned out to be true; nothing I was told about the inferiority of women or people of color turned out to be true; nothing I was told about people of sexualities different than mine turned out to be true.
My point being - my disqualification from conservatism, in the long run, didn’t disqualify me from community, by a long shot...
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