Is anything less in vogue today than moderation?

In Why Not Moderation? Letters to Young Radicals, Aurelian Craiutu, professor of political science at Indiana University, Bloomington, would have it otherwise, especially in our politics. So he has written an engaging book for young, passionate, and ambitious radicals on both the Right and the Left (though he suggests that everyone might benefit from it, even those who already consider themselves to be moderates). Craiutu knows that he will “pay a price for praising an unpopular virtue,” but he judges the effort essential if liberal democracy is to be saved from its present crisis.

The book features an imaginary dialogue between Craiutu and two fictitious young radicals—“Lauren” (on the Left) and “Rob” (on the Right)—who find moderation to be weak, bland, ineffective, and even dangerous in light of today’s exigencies. (At the outset, Craiutu highlights the point that moderation and dialogue are closely connected, so the book’s form mirrors its substance.)

Lauren grew up in a secular family in Brooklyn and is a committed socialist. Rob grew up in a Roman Catholic family in the upper Midwest and is committed to traditional family values. Lauren supports Black Lives Matter. Rob is convinced that Michael Anton’s “Flight 93 Election” essay is spot on. Despite their deep differences, Lauren and Rob are both committed to the belief, albeit for dramatically dissimilar reasons, that “liberal values and institutions are rotten to the core and cannot be reformed.” Consequently, they believe that we need “an entirely new political horizon beyond the old liberal democracy.” Against that backdrop, Craiutu undertakes to convince them that “radical moderation” is the only viable path forward.

To dialogue with Lauren and Rob, Craiutu uses an eclectic combination of genres. There are letters, short essays, and a question-and-answer format. In the question-and-answer sections, he tries to give voice to Lauren’s and Rob’s dreams, concerns, hopes, and fears, which he takes seriously and treats respectfully.

Throughout the book, a host of leading figures from the past and present—from Thucydides and Plato to Dierdre McCloskey and Patrick Deneen—make appearances to illustrate various points, and each letter begins with a carefully chosen epigraph from one (or sometimes two) of the figures to frame the following discussion.

To be sure, the book has a Socratic sensibility. (Craiutu even says that moderates act like “gadflies.”) Like Socrates—who was famous for being wise for admitting his ignorance—Craiutu acknowledges at the outset that he writes as someone who is “still searching for the truth” and who has reached “no definitive conclusions or positive discoveries.” Ultimately, Craiutu hopes that Lauren and Rob (and the rest of us) will search along with him.

Moderation as a Virtue

Craiutu begins with moderation as a virtue. In doing so, he acknowledges that moderation is one of the four cardinal virtues, along with prudence, courage, and justice; that it has deep roots in ancient Greek philosophy, including in Plato’s dialogues; and that it has a rich history from antiquity to the present.

For him, as for the ancients, moderation as a moral virtue informs his thinking of moderation as a political virtue. Following Plato, he equates moderation with self-restraint and self-knowledge. And following Aristotle, he sees moderation as both the “golden mean” and about having the right feelings “at the right time, about the right things, toward the right people, for the right end.” 

Beginning with the ancients is a fitting foundation for Craiutu’s discussion. As I read on, I found his treatment of moderation to be reminiscent of Socrates’ treatment of justice in The Republic—it meanders, digresses, roams widely, nuances, and leaves questions unanswered or only partly answered.

Craiutu prepares us for the challenge by stressing early on that moderation is a “notoriously difficult, complex, and elusive concept that challenges our imagination.” As he sees it, moderation is an “eclectic virtue to which there are many facets.” To help explain what he means, he uses the metaphor of moderation as an archipelago. In one instance, he writes, “Moderation is a complex and diverse archipelago with many islands, some more exotic than others.” In another, he writes that “moderation is an exotic archipelago for which there are few travel guides and no handbooks.” Despite the definitional struggle, however, he considers moderation to be a “muscular virtue,” and he sees it as definite enough to be a “fighting creed.” Both views can even be found in a single sentence: “Properly understood,” he argues, “moderation often entails a rebellious and firm attitude that welcomes tension and contradiction.” Those two, seemingly conflicting conceptions—moderation as plural and elusive, and moderation as definite and actionable—are in tension throughout the book.

One thing is much clearer: Craiutu subscribes to the traditional unity of virtues, linking moderation to both prudence and courage. In this regard, he makes frequent use of seventeenth-century Anglican theologian Joseph Hall’s statement about moderation being “the silken string that runs through the pearl-chain of all the virtues.” He also has an excellent chapter discussing the relationship between moderation and prudence, and he argues that it takes a lot of courage to be a moderate in an immoderate age such as ours. As he says, moderation is a “’radical’ virtue suitable only to courageous and non-conformist minds.”

To my mind, Craiutu’s beginning with moderation as a virtue begs the question of whether his argument is ultimately a nonstarter for Lauren. As a radical progressive, not only is she inclined to see moderation as an “unappealing bourgeois virtue,” as Craiutu tells us, but she likely regards the idea of virtue completely as hopelessly old-fashioned and out of date. One can imagine that the word “virtue” for her has a distinctly Victorian and pejorative ring to it. Rob, on the other hand, as a Roman Catholic, is almost certainly favorably disposed toward virtue, and he may have even read Alasdair MacIntyre’s After Virtue or Josef Pieper’s The Four Cardinal Virtues. After all, what Rob really wants is a virtuous society consistent with (his conception) of Catholic teaching. Accordingly, the premise of the book adheres much more closely to Rob’s worldview than Lauren’s. 

Moderation’s Substantive Core

One objection that Craiutu is keen to dispatch is that moderation has no “substantive core.” To challenge the perception of moderation as wishy-washy, he makes plain that there are some core commitments on which moderates will not budge—and sometimes will even need to act immoderately to preserve.

Specifically, for him, moderates, at least those since the rise of liberal democracy, agree that “there can be no reasonable compromises with those who endanger liberal democratic principles, norms, and institutions,” such as the rule of law, civil equality, fair elections, and free speech.

Consequently, he concedes (as he must) that there are “undeniable affinities between moderation and certain tenets of classical liberalism or conservatism.” One of these affinities seems to be how moderates view human nature. For Craiutu, moderates embrace human imperfection and “the fallibility of all things human,” and they “never expect to find perfection in the world at large.” He even goes so far as to say at one point that there is a “human propensity to ignorance, deception, and malice,” which sounds virtually Augustinian.

As a Roman Catholic, Rob would certainly agree with Craiutu about human nature, but he would likely be put off by what seems like Craiutu’s flirtation with relativism. Though Craiutu insists that moderation does not imply moral relativism, he makes several statements that tilt in that direction, at least some of which seem to extend beyond politics to questions of ultimate meaning and concern, including religion. As one example, he declares that moderates do not “assume any monopoly of truth.” He also declares that “nobody is the bearer of absolute truth,” and he counsels against being a “zealot who imagines they are in possession of any final or revealed truth.” Finally, he makes much of moderates having a “sense of relativity” regarding their own beliefs and ideas.

Moderates believe in the power of dialogue. They believe that the civil exchange of ideas is the lifeblood of liberal democracy.

In the end, beyond the conception of how moderates see human nature, it is difficult to discern what “substantive commitments” moderates have, as the other commitments Craiutu identifies seem more procedural in nature.

Moderation’s Style and Ethos

A composite portrait of what moderates are like emerges over the course of the book. The following character traits and dispositions are components of what he considers to be the moderate “style” and “ethos” (though the numbering and ordering are mine).

First, moderates are skeptics (but not cynics). They believe that no one has the monopoly of truth, and they are aware that it is often impossible to demonstrate truth in political life. They do not accept arguments at face value but subject them to critical scrutiny. They treat their ideas, values, and principles as open to revision, and they are prepared to change their minds when confronted with new facts.

Second, moderates are anti-perfectionist realists. They distrust abstract theories and grand narratives, no matter how brilliant they may be. They are prepared to follow the facts wherever they may lead and however uncomfortable they may be, and they refuse to distort them. They accept human imperfection and fallibility and embrace epistemic humility. They reject utopianism, choosing to see the world as it is, not as it should be, as if from behind an imagined veil of ignorance. They recognize that many political issues admit of no ultimate solutions and often involve difficult tradeoffs.

Third, moderates reject easy simplification. They reject black-and-white thinking and simplistic (either-or) choices that leave no room for ambiguity, and they seek to go beyond conventional dichotomies that oversimplify reality. They prefer complex answers that leave room for nuance to simple explanations that focus on a single aspect of a problem or cause of an event. 

Fourth, moderates reject single-mindedness. They do not interpret the world in light of any single value. They believe that no single value can, without loss, be made the center of and circumference of all political and social life. They realize that cherished values—for example, liberty and equality—are often incompatible, making the balancing and weighing of them inevitable.

Fifth, moderates love their country, but they do not idolize it. They seek to enlarge public sympathy for the common good, and they keep the country’s long-term interests in mind.

Sixth, moderates are not afraid to compromise, subject to the substantive commitments discussed above. They will sit down with political opponents who are committed to democratic norms to try to find solutions.

Seventh, moderates see politics as a “limited” activity. Politics is not the central focus of their lives, and they refuse to politicize everything. They reject “politics as faith” and understand that it is not the role of politics to satisfy humanity’s deepest needs and innermost longings.

Eighth, moderates believe in the power of dialogue. They believe that the civil exchange of ideas is the lifeblood of liberal democracy. They refuse to live in bubbles and echo chambers, and they refuse to censor or cancel those with opposing views. They speak with a genteel spirit, show respect for the equal dignity of their interlocutors, and embrace diversity and pluralism of ideas and viewpoints.

Ninth, moderates seek to find common ground and work hard to build bridges across ideological divides. They refuse to stigmatize those with whom they disagree as bad and immoral or dismiss them as unreasonable or deplorable. Finding common ground means setting aside ideas that divide and focusing on common commitments.

Tenth, moderates seek incremental societal improvement and piecemeal reforms. They distrust zealous social engineers who pretend to have quick and infallible solutions for improving human beings and society.

Eleventh, moderates are nonconformists who have the courage to be eclectic and “appreciate the beauty of nuance.” They have the courage to proclaim their ideas and do not hide their convictions. They are prepared to swim against the current and to be (and remain) politically homeless.

Twelfth, and finally, moderates are not easily offended, have a solid sense of humor, and guard against self-righteousness. They have a “propensity to self-subversion” as a means of self-correction and of the testing of their ideas. They grade themselves hard but give others the benefit of the doubt, and they choose not to infer personal vices from others’ political positions.

For the most part, I find Craiutu’s portrait to be attractive. What strikes me about the traits and dispositions described above, however, is that they require more self-awareness, goodwill, intellectual curiosity, mental dexterity, empathy, generosity, discernment, reasonableness, and emotional regulation than most people will ever possess (or ever want to possess). The ultimate sense that one comes away with is that Craiutu offers an aspirational standard that is beyond most people’s ability. Though he admits that he has set the bar high, he believes that it is not too high for moderates. Judge for yourself.

The dialogue ends with his proposal of ten “Rules for ‘Radical Moderates.’” In doing so, he draws inspiration from Saul Alinsky’s Rules for Radicals. Somewhat frustratingly, but as one might expect by this time in the book, Craiutu says that his rules are “tentative” and that one should take them with a “grain of salt.” In tension with his disclaimer, he calls his rules his “Decalogue” (note the capital “D,” which harkens back to the Biblical Decalogue, which was anything but tentative). For me, that conflict exemplifies the many tensions that abound throughout the book. The rules, moreover, are wordy and complex paragraphs that cover four and a half pages. Clearly, there is no simple way to be a radical moderate. 

Open Questions

Craiutu leaves some important questions open. I will focus on three.

First, who can be a moderate and how one becomes a moderate are unclear. In the prologue, Craiutu is quite optimistic about moderation as a universal virtue accessible to everyone. “Moderation has no lower age limit and is a virtue that everyone can practice almost anywhere and anytime,” he says. By the epilogue, however, he seems to have changed his mind: “Moderation is a demanding virtue which requires a unique set of skills that not everyone possesses,” he says. He nowhere addresses character formation (or rehabilitation). He thus leaves open the famous Platonic question of the Meno—can virtue be taught? The premise of Craiutu’s book suggests that it can: Why else would he take so much time to dialogue with Rob and Lauren? But it is ultimately unclear if Rob and Lauren have the skills to become moderates.

Second, though he says that “occasional moments of radicalism may be necessary to stave off the decline of liberal democracy and reinvigorate its institutions,” he offers precious few details about when one should eschew moderation in favor of radicalism. That concept feels underdeveloped and could use greater elaboration.

Third, he does not shed light on how a liberal democracy should deal with genuinely bad actors who refuse to accept liberal democratic norms, principles, and institutions. Though he says that “toleration toward the intolerant seems absurd and unwise,” he offers little in the way of specifics.

Though Craiutu makes a strong case that moderation is essential to help remedy today’s political crisis, he does not make it look easy, and I fear that few will find such a “difficult,” “complex,” and “demanding” virtue attractive. The question posed to the reader, of course, is whether he offers a compelling vision of life that’s worth the challenge of being a moderate. True to the book’s Socratic sensibility, it ends in aporia with us not knowing if Lauren and Rob have been convinced.