Imagine that the American university ecosystem — all of it, from the most liberal to the most conservative institutions — has had an epiphany. They now realize the great mistake of stifling controversial speech and activity, and have accepted the arguments of bodies like Heterodox Academy. “The university should be a place of entirely free inquiry,” they proclaim in unison, “and those who wish to suppress it are not welcome here.”

A few radicals remain on the margins, trying to restore the great age of censorship, but they are soundly defeated and sidelined. Even the ranks of conservative professors within once liberal-dominated fields is increasing, as the desire for vibrant discussion triumphs over the comfort of liberal like-mindedness. The fight for intellectual diversity, a struggle which has been going on for a century now, is finally at an end, and the good guys have won.

But something strange is happening. While heterodox liberals and other members of the intellectual diversity coalition are thriving, conservative and right-wing groups are at a loss. Having so thoroughly invested themselves in complaining about and chronicling how they’re not “allowed” to make their arguments in classrooms, on campuses, or at conferences, they now find themselves without much to say.

Accustomed to provocation more than presentation, they find themselves with little to sell in the newly free market of ideas. Conservative groups on campus used to provide a small oasis in the liberal-dominated desert. Now, without the mantle of martyr to attract, they mostly repel.

I bring up this hypothetical not because I think it’s likely, but because it points to a serious weakness in conservative thinking and advocacy.

Are the Great Books Enough?

Conservatives are too used to thinking like a persecuted, put-upon opposition. As a result, they do not give enough thought to presenting a real alternative, especially in the humanities and social sciences — fields that inquire into what it means to be human — which tend to be disproportionately left-wing, even relative to academia.

The previous conservative generation advocated the Great Books, a canon of Western thinking stretching from Athens and Jerusalem to today. Studying the big, complicated ideas of the Western canon, they argued, would wean young people off lazy buzzwords and political slogans.

I admit I used to scoff at this. Just as too many think better civics education will somehow serve as a panacea for present-day political ignorance, saying “the Great Books” and leaving it at that seemed a handwaving dismissal, as though these classic works cast a magic spell.

I no longer think this way. While I think the canon needs to be updated given our more diverse, globalizing world, I believe it can be a window into what Matthew Arnold called the “best that has been thought and said.” Updating the canon rather than scrapping it would help develop respect for the wisdom of the past, an appreciation for the complexity of our existence, and, most importantly, help rebuild a common intellectual dialect between Americans who often sound like they do not speak the same cultural language.

What do Conservatives Have to Offer?

However, important as a shared canonical education may be, it is still just a framework, open to interpretation, and could lead in many directions. The Great Books differ, and many progressives have found support for their views therein. The books may hone the minds of young students, they may create a common cultural language, but they do not advance specifically conservative ideas.

In articles on the success of the intersectional movement and the relative failure of the intellectual diversity movement, sociology professor Musa al-Gharbi explained that while the intersectional movement aimed at specific, agreed upon goals, intellectual diversity has foundered on the often clashing goals of its different members. Intellectual diversity advocates are all about the framework; they don’t say enough about the content.

Great Books are all well and good, but in the end people — especially young people — need direction. If the only clear direction they get comes from the left and left-leaning centrists, then left is where most will go.

To offer an alternative path, conservatives need to start asking themselves what it means to be a conservative historian or philosopher or social scientist. Does it just mean you vote GOP and sometimes say politically incorrect things? Does it mean asking research questions other, more liberal scholars are less interested in or avoid? Can conservative scholars make a positive contribution in these fields, or are they just there to provide a “safe space” for those who feel politically out of step with their peers?

It’s not like conservatives haven’t found a way to do this in other fields. In economics, in the interpretation of law, in the study of international and domestic political relations, conservative thinkers have contributed a great deal of important arguments, which even their more numerous liberal scholars often accept to varying degrees (or at least have to contend with). I have faith this can be done in other fields.

Another Thought Experiment

Imagine that, instead of investing so much effort in empty provocation, the best conservative minds devote themselves to articulating conservative visions of the humanities and social sciences, not just by championing their favorite canonical works, but with direction for future scholarship.

It might not become the majority view — not unlike conservative efforts in economics, law, and other fields — but it will become powerful enough, attractive enough, compelling enough that conservatives who never set foot in a university will feel like they have a place there, that they have friends there, that they, too, have a stake in the health of academia. And instead of working to burn it all down or bark at passing caravans, we will shine a light on the good, the true, and the beautiful that no-one can ignore.

I hope this hypothetical comes true.