In search of conservatism

Like many freshmen, I left the comfortable world of my quaint suburban hometown and came to Princeton ready for intense intellectual development. I imagined attending the lecture of a famed conservative scholar and walking away with new ideas that challenged my left-leaning assumptions and reaffirmed my belief that intellectual stimulation can rise above the ad hominem attacks that dominate political punditry.

Unfortunately, if Princeton is any indication, it seems like the life of a rational conservative discourse is nearly at its end. The vanguards of the conservative movement are increasingly old and out of touch while the current representatives are a group of increasingly divisive and rambunctious group of irreverent partisans.

My first on-campus experience with conservative thought was from the intellectual heavyweight and renowned constitutional scholar Professor Robert George. His speech to a packed room of mostly freshmen and sophomores in Murray-Dodge surveyed his ontological perspective on the meaning of "mission." I quickly scribbled down notes and after 10 minutes, they had devolved into a jumble of Greek- and Latin-looking five-syllable words. As he concluded his explanation of his abstract philosophical dilemma I asked the student sitting next to me, "what was that last part about?" After a brief pause she responded, "Religion ... I think."

Like most scholars, the words and meanings of Professor George's speech were highly intricate, and I probably would have needed at least two precept discussions before I understood his speech. Despite my earnest attempt to understand his worldview, I found his scholarly approach utterly inaccessible.

The next conservative speaker I went to hear was David Horowitz. In his controversially titled lecture series "Islamo-Fascist Awareness Week," Horowitz brazenly asserted that he was under attack from liberal academics, which necessitated his hiring a bodyguard. As Horowitz railed against liberal academics who threw ad hominem attacks at him; he called anyone who disagreed with his position against "Islamo-Fascism" a sexist and a supporter of a Nazi-esque regime. Horowitz was anything but an adamant intellectual. I wanted to know why the College Republicans would attach their name to Horowitz, who revealed himself to be a less-attractive male version of Ann Coulter.

Disillusioned by the overwhelmingly inaccessible intellectualism of Professor George and the underwhelming inanity of Horowitz, I was excited to hear that former Sen. Bill Frist '74 (R-Tenn.) would be hosting the famed and infamous political consultant Frank Luntz. Luntz was markedly less controversial than Horowitz and Coulter and used a melange of statistical analysis and focus group sessions to determine what he has named "words that work." Luntz, both an academic and political foot soldier for dozens of Republican congressmen, seemed like a perfect compromise between the erudite academic and a reductive pundit.

But in his discussion called "Liars, Cheats, and Thieves: Does Any Politician Tell the Truth?" Luntz failed to answer the question that his title posed. Instead of addressing the matter of truth or Truth, Luntz made a series of jokes about Bill Clinton, jokes better suited for a bar in 1999 than a lecture hall.

Perhaps my most interesting encounter with conservative thought was Associate Justice Antonin Scalia's speech before he accepted the James Madison Award last weekend. Justice Scalia gave a rational, well-explained speech documenting the origins of his judicial philosophy that was both substantive and plainly spoken. Scalia, an intimidating man by most accounts, made several attempts at humor, but his jokes were severely dated. He made a comment in Latin at which the only member of the capacity crowd who laughed was Professor George.

The most glaring observation I can make from having attended these lectures and discussions is the burgeoning gap between older conservative intellectuals and their young followers. Unlike liberals who continually portray an image of an invigorated movement with cadres of college-aged supporters, the conservatives are headed by an aging vanguard whose disconnection from our generation is shockingly apparent.

The 2008 presidential election is a telling example of the aging conservative movement: Sen. John McCain (R-Ariz.) is nearly 20 years senior to Sen. Barack Obama (D-Ill.) While I would not mourn the death of the conservative movement, I do mourn that the movement's aging intellectual elite are being replaced by young grotesque caricatures like Ann Coulter, Bill O'Reilly and David Horowitz.

Michael Collins is a freshman from Glastonbury, Conn. He can be reached at mjcollin@princeton.edu.