This essay emphasises Mencken’s conservatism above his other characteristics, as it is his primary distinguishing feature and the main reason he is misunderstood. His libertarianism — which overlaps with his conservatism — is also misunderstood, but plenty of literature is available defending libertarianism, whereas there is comparatively little intentionally defending conservatism.
Rarely is conservatism even acknowledged as having anything to do with reason, as something that could be right or wrong, justified or unjustified, probable or improbable. Usually it is uncritically dismissed as skeptical, iconoclastic, irreverent, curmudgeonly, eccentric, outspoken, opinionated, independent, sardonic, pessimistic, cynical, bitter and dated. Mencken is described in those terms — which are more comparative and superficial than descriptive and explanatory — far more often than he is described as correct and critical, or, for that matter, as incorrect and uncritical.
Mencken is not just different. He does not merely have a valid point of view. His conservatism is not a blind faith in pessimism; it was not of immaculate conception. It is not pessimystic. His viewpoint can be analysed, not only to compare his conclusions with your own, but to compare his reasoning too.
Mencken was a conservative. He doubted the goodness, honesty and truth of all government and any religion. Despite the difference between this and what is usually called conservatism, this is the true conservatism. After all, government and religion, being proactive, hope-fuelled and high-expectation responses to whatever the situation happened to be at the time of their founding, are merely examples of historical anticonservatism.
In addition to a critical predisposition and lack of faith, Mencken’s conservatism is also an unashamed appreciation of the entertainment provided by: (1) the pretentiousness of both historical and current events; and (2) the hollowness of attempted improvements, including those that will fail due to irrevocable economic laws — that is, socialistic interventions into the market —, and those that will fail due to unpopularity — that is, reforms that would work, if only the populace were not so stubbornly stupid.
To rephrase and reframe, Mencken believed: (a) that many problems are insoluble; (b) that many other problems have solutions that would work, but are unlikely to be adopted; (c) that “problems” are often misidentified, or exaggerated in both severity and urgency; (d) that “solutions” are rarely as useful as their believers claim; (e) that if people have free will, they rarely use it wisely and are predictably corruptible, gullible and unreflective; (f) that there will always be “do-gooders” who try to do the impossible and unlikely, and are blindly enthusiastic about their chances; (g) that these “do-gooders” often sink to the level they try to get others to rise above; (h) that not much can be done about these “do-gooders,” and it is usually best not to; (i) that all this has been the case in the past and will be so in the future; and (j) that all this is fun to witness and proclaim.
Mencken’s fervour was this-worldly. His cynicism was light-hearted and deeply-felt. His pessimism was upbeat and vigilant. His paranoia was fuelled by neither hope nor fear. His crusade against error and injustice was devoid of envy. He was passionate and questioning and resigned and satisfied.
This position is almost always confused with what it is not. Even those who hold such beliefs often find explaining themselves, or keeping silent, too difficult and inconvenient, requiring more intelligence than they possess or independence than they can muster. Acceptance concerns them more than honesty or education. They categorise their behaviour using categories and clichés they have come across, rather than their own immediate sincere reflections. Lacking the language necessary to express themselves or the discipline necessary to be silent until they find the right words, they either cease interest altogether in what gave them these difficulties, or classify themselves as something they are not. If they do the latter, they often change their beliefs until they share all the views of the group that they, originally incorrectly, classed themselves with. Consider, for example, the descriptions in the previous paragraph, how rarely you find the terms therein collocated, your initial reaction — which may have been that they are contradictory – and your reappraisal — which may be that it actually makes surprisingly good sense.
Mencken’s inventive language, ducking and weaving of unhelpful idioms, and enlarged vocabulary, do much to explain why his beliefs go beyond, say, the professed faith in democracy, whatever that means, of others; and why his prose is, as he said, “clear and alive.” For example:
FootnotesThe imbeciles who have printed acres of comment on my books have seldom noticed the chief character of my style. It is that I write with almost scientific precision — that my meaning is never obscure. The ignorant have often complained that my vocabulary is beyond them, but that is simply because my ideas cover a wider range than theirs do. Once they have consulted the dictionary they always know exactly what I intend to say. I am as far as any writer can get from the muffled sonorities of, say, John Dewey.1
- H.L. Mencken, Minority Report (Baltimore, Marylands: The John Hopkins University Press, 2006), p. 293. [↩]