Many present-day conservatives seem eager to embrace Thatcher’s individualism as the essence of conservatism, for they regard politics as a binary battle against the statism and collectivism of the left. Rather than being genuine opposites, however, radical individualism and collectivism are two sides of the same coin. A society of radically autonomous individuals is not likely to be a society of self-governing individuals. Instead it is likely to be one in which the institutions and traditions that governed social life and relations have been weakened, dissolved and denounced as oppressive constraints that interfere with the individual’s pursuit of personal authenticity. A society in which the age-old, traditional constraints on individual excess are cast onto the altar of autonomy faces chaos unless an ever-more powerful central authority steps forward to regulate and govern every aspect of our lives.

This relationship between radical individualism and collectivism is not accidental. In his under-rated classic The Quest for Community, the late American sociologist Robert Nisbet warned that the drive towards totalitarian collectivism in the 20th century was rooted in the natural human yearning for belonging and community. The totalitarian temptation and the rise of mass movements were products of what he called “enlightenment individualism” progressively destroying the structures and institutions that had previously satiated our need for community.

Social institutions from families to churches to voluntary associations of almost innumerable form are often rooted in pre-modern customs, traditions and forms of kinship. Enlightenment individualism regarded these older institutions as sources of oppression, irrationality and superstition that, thereby, undermined and delegitimized their historical claims over individual behaviour. The progressive emancipation of individuals from these typically personal and local forms of relationships and solidarity produced a sense of alienation that naturally drew many people to mass movements. Thus, the end-state of radical individualism was not liberation, but a much more radical form of mass conformism.

Freedom is more than radical autonomy, and conservatism must be more than liberalism

If conservatism is to be anything more than just liberalism behind, it must be built upon a recognition of our historical and social situatedness. A focus on the social ought not be a mere supplementary or optional component: it must be part of the core. Fortunately for conservatives, there is already a rich wellspring to draw upon. Edmund Burke’s famous “little platoons” provide a good starting point. The 18th century British politician and political philosopher considered groupings within family, churches, and civic associations as the basis of social life.

“To be attached to the subdivision, to love the little platoon we belong to in society, is the first principle of public affections,” Burke wrote in his Reflections on the Revolution in France in 1790. “It is the first link in the series by which we proceed towards a love to our country, and to mankind.” These platoons form us and cultivate the virtues that enable both freedom and flourishing.

To reject atomistic individualism is not therefore to reject freedom. But it requires recognizing that freedom and autonomy are not synonymous, and that autonomy is not synonymous with the good. Individuals loosened and liberated from all constraints are not likely to be truly self-governing and free; they’re more likely to be slaves to, not masters of, their own desires.

Individualism versus collectivism is a false binary. True freedom needs to be nourished and cultivated. Social and other intermediary non-government institutions enable, preserve and extend our freedom. These institutions help to create boundaries and roles that provide intelligibility, stability and order to the social world. A world without these institutions isn’t one that’s emancipated; it’s one in which we need bureaucrats and therapists to regulate every aspect of our lives. A political philosophy largely centred on protecting, preserving, and promoting these institutions moves beyond the false binary to provide a unique, conservative “third option”.

Unfortunately, conservatives too often fall prey to nostalgia for an idealized past that cannot be resurrected. Canada has not proved immune to the trends observed in books like “Bowling Alone;” social atomization and hyper-individualism are hallmarks of contemporary life. The conservative answer cannot simply be a purer form of liberalism, one that hyper-extends liberalism’s radical individualism and conception of freedom divorced from any notion of human flourishing situated in and nourished by the “little platoons.” It has to be one that emphasizes there is more to conservatism than liberalism. Far too often, however, conservatives run away from this challenge and hide behind the language of liberalism.

Debased Red Toryism is not the answer – it’s just more liberalism

Among the worst offenders who dress their liberalism up as “conservatism” are Canada’s so called Red Tories. Journalist and author Steve Paikin recently defined this political species as “conservatives who are socially liberal but [are] sticklers for fiscal prudence and respect for democratic principles.” What this translates to in practice is a conservatism that represents little more than liberalism wearing blue stripes. Paikin was also being generous in his linkage of Red Tories to “fiscal prudence”, for in practice they’ve proved themselves nearly as big spenders as Liberals, often running massive deficits. Their habits largely account for current-generation “fiscal conservatives” defining themselves separately from Red Tories.

From political figures like former Quebec premier Jean Charest to former Alberta premier Alison Redford, this form of conservatism largely consists of attempting to “out-liberal” the Liberals, and claiming that to be principled conservatism. Charest, whose unruly mop of curly hair marked him early on as a different kind of PC among his strait-laced colleagues during the Mulroney era, embodies this political type to an almost comical degree. He moved seamlessly from five years spent as the most left-leaning federal PC leader in history in 1993-1998 (when he led the House of Commons’ fifth-ranked party) to leader of the Quebec Liberal Party in 1998 (becoming premier in 2003). Charest recently indicated he will run to replace Scheer. Meanwhile, Redford’s incompetent rule and bloated budgeting in Alberta all-but handed the reliably-conservative province to the NDP in 2015.

Whether due to their ardour for the latest trends and fashions of social progressivism, or their instinctive adoption of centrist/elitist liberal hysteria about issues such as Brexit, this grouping of Red Tories has been widely loathed by other conservatives. They are a continued source of strife, pulling conservatives into a vortex of internecine conflict that, at its worst, has split apart parties and kept them out of power for extended periods. The “lost ‘90s” federally and the NDP’s rule in Alberta in 2015-2019 are two examples of the damage done. It is critical that Conservatives today avoid reverting to an approach that could deliver a “lost ‘20s” as well.

An older and better form of Red Tory

The contemporary Canadian usage of “Red Tory,” has little to do with an older tradition of Canadian conservatism that was also once referred to as Red Toryism. While largely a forgotten political tradition in Canada, recent developments in the United States and U.K. suggest its central ideas remain relevant today. There are two related but recent variants of Red Toryism on either side of the Atlantic that more closely resemble the ur-Canadian variant. At a minimum, Canadian conservatives should pay close attention to these developments.

The current British variant of Red Toryism is associated most closely with the English philosopher and theologian Phillip Blond, a confidant of former British Prime Minister David Cameron. It is a full-throated rejection of both the bureaucratic-managerial state and global capitalism which, as we’ve seen, have each been enabled by a hyper-liberal focus on individual rights. This view became central in Cameron’s attempt to detoxify and revitalize the British Tory party with his “Big Society” agenda.

This project was focused not simply on getting rid of the state and expecting civil society to spontaneously fill the void, as many small-government types on the right often imagine. Instead, Cameron and Blond wanted to use the state to “remake society” – in the sense of rebuilding or restoring it. The Big Society’s vision was to use the state to encourage social enterprise, based on the principle of subsidiarity. It empowered groups and individuals to solve problems at the local level, rather than relying on a distant but overweening bureaucratic state to do so. The hope was that this process would spur the revival of critical social institutions.

While the historical Canadian variant is very similar to its British cousin, it has different origins and a slightly different conception of the state. The label “Red Tory” was coined in 1966 by political scientist Gad Horowitz, a specialist in labour theory at the University of Toronto. He used it to describe a tradition in Canadian conservative thought that blended conservatism and elements of socialism in a distinctly anti-liberal synthesis that rejected radical individualism.

The University of the Fraser Valley political scientist Ron Dart traces Red Toryism back to an older tradition of (British) North American conservatism that he refers to as “High Toryism.” It has its roots in the culture of the United Empire Loyalists who fled northward after the American Revolution, and centred on loyalty to the British Crown and the Anglican Church. They stressed values like tradition and the common good, and their version of Toryism became associated in Upper Canada (today Ontario) with the Family Compact. Some of its most ardent defenders included the first Anglican Bishop of Toronto, John Strachan. The Family Compact order in Upper Canada was one that embodied the traditional Tory values of loyalty to the Crown, church, and country. But it also reflected an older aristocratic sense of noblesse oblige in which the “men of talent” of the governing elite understood and acted on their obligations to society and the people they governed.

This older tradition has little to do with contemporary Red Toryism. It is best embodied in the thoughts of philosopher George Grant. While now mostly remembered for his writing on Canadian nationalism, including his famous Lament for a Nation, Grant’s broader political philosophy, while often vague, defends a “traditional conservatism, which asserts the right of the community to restrain freedom in the name of the common good.” Whatever you think of it, this Red Toryism is definitively not just a variant of liberalism.