Alexander William Salter’s The Spirit of 76: Libertarianism and American Renewal is not a book for everyone. In many ways, it was a disappointment, as I didn’t learn much over 101 pages of simple arguments and often campy phrasing. In many other ways, this book is a masterpiece, and a healing balm for a divided country. Between my reading of the book and writing of this review, I ordered a copy for a relative who might find a way forward in libertarianism.

This book is not written for professional economists or political theorists. Instead, it is written for the thinking woman or man who is exasperated by the incessant growth of the state and demoralized by the politicization of just about everything—especially those who still cling to faith in the elite collusion of a one-party system with two branches that seem to agree only on more spending. This book offers the alternative of a big-tent libertarianism, or what we might call “classical liberalism.” Salter wisely eschews partisan politics, except to point out that both parties are addicted to top-down solutions and spending taxpayer money. He also generously sets aside the internecine struggles among anarchists, minarchists, ordoliberals, small-government conservatives, and other friends of liberty. Any movement towards the US Constitution and any aspiration towards the philosophy of liberty are good things and welcome.

I didn’t learn much of substance from this book—I am, after all, a fellow professional political economist, a fellow libertarian, a fellow aficionado of the American Constitution, and a fellow graduate of George Mason University. I did learn from Salter’s ethos and pathos, if not logos. I make a point, at least once a year, of attending an introductory economics lecture—not to learn concepts I have studied deeply for two decades, but to examine their treatment at the hands of a master communicator. Don Boudreaux (George Mason University), Gary Wolfram (Hillsdale College), Josh Dalton (University of Tennessee Knoxville), and Brad Hobbs (Clemson University), to name but a few, are all worth a detour to hear the simple beauty of a simple concept well expressed. Life may be richer for the complexity of Beethoven and Wagner, but the palate rejoices at an occasional return to Bach’s simple and soul-satisfying counterpoint.

Two groups stand to benefit—and immensely—from this short book. First, those who yearn for a return to constitutional constraints, but have (rightly) lost faith in partisan politics. Second, those who wish to hone their craft by returning to the expression of first principles at the able pen of a master craftsman. Indeed, Salter is not writing for an academic or specialized audience, but (originally, at least) for readers of the op-ed pages of the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal.

Salter sets out with three goals: (1) to remind readers of liberty’s central place in American public affairs; (2) to offer an apologia for libertarianism; and (3) to propose a return to a libertarian approach to concrete national problems. Lest skeptical readers—who may associate libertarianism with libertinism or naïveté about human nature—chafe at the term, Salter carefully and broadly defines libertarianism as a natural-rights philosophy of ordered liberty.

Salter argues that libertarianism looms large in American constitutional design. He offers a refreshing defense of the Articles of Confederation; they were strong in their polycentric approach but got a bum rap from history, as the victorious Federalists, in their quest for a strong central government, exaggerated the problems of state squabbling and revolutionary war debt. Salter glows about the US Constitution of 1787—a magnificent exercise in restraint and prudence (especially with the underappreciated 9th and 10th Amendments). But he is also sanguine about its shortcomings, especially the Commerce Clause, the Necessary and Proper Clause, and the power to tax, which ended up being loopholes through which the Progressives and their successors drove convoys of state power. As he eschews perfection, Salter points out that the US Constitution, as a product of the Federalists, is not a strictly libertarian document, nor is it perfect. But any movement back towards the letter and spirit of the Constitution would be a move in the right direction.

Salter then distills his home discipline of Public Choice theory. He appeals for a move away from politics as romance, and towards a more realistic vision of politics as exchange, compromise, and special interests. He next builds a case for libertarianism by appealing to natural rights and the non-aggression principle. But he is quick to add an appeal to the skeptical reader by emphasizing the prudence of reducing the size of the state and the scope of the political as vehicles for human thriving and decreased polarization. And, “if duty is too abstract a concept for you, an 85-fold increase in living standards [since the start of the market-driven industrial revolution] is a pretty good reason to defend natural rights!”

Here, Salter is particularly deft at addressing his audience. I remember well my first academic job at Hillsdale College, where my conservative colleagues viewed libertarianism with a mix of suspicion and ridicule, as the slapdash, juvenile, irresponsible, perhaps slightly dim-witted cousin of a more sophisticated conservatism. Sure, libertarians reject the Progressive project—and for that, ought to be encouraged. But they also need to be educated, as they are woefully naïve about the role of virtue and the occasional need for the state to foster it. I always found this puzzling: a state that routinely bungles the economy or education surely can’t be trusted with central planning of virtue … and an administrative apparatus, once created by virtuous statesmen, can readily be wielded by a far less virtuous opposition.

What is more, civil society could do a fine job of advancing virtue—especially the virtues required for self-governance—if the state didn’t crowd it out and make a mess of things. I remain befuddled by this paradox of conservatism, even if I have dug deeply into the question with my former colleague Nathan Schlueter, first in a series of co-taught classes at Hillsdale, then in a book on the libertarian-conservative debate. Salter knows his audience and starts his pre-emptive strike by emphasizing that libertarianism is not libertinism. Prudence and harmony require us not to coerce morality; civil society is the proper venue for advancing virtue; and Christianity is compatible with libertarianism.

Salter demonstrates concisely that the solution to contemporary policy problems lies in libertarianism. Education, economic stability, healthcare, the entitlement crisis, poverty, immigration, and foreign entanglements are all solvable through smaller government, a smaller scope of politics, more voluntary solutions, more cooperation, more market opportunities, and more respect for the Constitution. Salter closes on an optimistic note: friends of liberty should offer constructive alternatives, rather than merely criticizing the country’s turn from liberty. Libertarianism is the path toward American renewal.

For its rhetorical strength, the book does have some shortcomings. For example, Salter knows his history, and carefully distinguishes between the centralizing forces (“Federalists”… quite the misnomer!) and those more skeptical of power at the Founding, but it’s still not clear that libertarianism is really “the Spirit of ’76.” He makes it clear that state coercion of virtue is a disaster but it’s not entirely clear how “virtue is the end of civil society” or that “[m]an’s ultimate goal is to become virtuous.” While I agree with Salter’s case for free immigration, he glosses over big questions like negative externalities, culture, or infrastructure. And the style is often campy. But these are nits, and explained by the audience and format of what were originally op-eds for the local newspaper in a conservative Texas city.

Again, this book is not for everyone. Professionals will find it disappointingly shallow. But Salter is not preaching to the choir. Like the prophet Isaiah, he is preaching to the Remnant. In the words Albert Jay Nock puts in the mouth of God speaking to Isaiah, the Remnant “are obscure, unorganized, inarticulate, each one rubbing along as best he can. They need to be encouraged and braced up because when everything has gone completely to the dogs, they are the ones who will come back and build up a new society; and meanwhile, your preaching will reassure them and keep them hanging on. Your job is to take care of the Remnant, so be off now and set about it.”

I suspect everyone reading this review already has in mind several family members and friends who are worried about the Republic and will be braced up by Salter’s important book.