By David Bahnsen
Friday, June 05, 2026
I am not just here today as a lover of freedom and
markets, but I am here as a particular lover of National Review, of its history, its founder, its legacy,
and its role in conserving the ideals that are worth conserving. But it is a
very recent development that has me particularly animated and has reignited my
love of National Review. Socialism existed in American faculty lounges
in the 1990s. William F. Buckley attacked radicalism on college campuses as far
back as 1955. We all know that the ethos of anti-Communism was central to the
history of National Review.
But there is a massive uprising on the right involving
those opposed to free markets, turning terms like “market fundamentalism” into
pejoratives and making a case against
free trade — people who believe that capital and labor are at diametrical
odds with one another. The giants on whose shoulders we stand — Meyer and
Buckley and Chambers, but also Hayek and Friedman and Smith — would expect us
to fight this “new right” temper tantrum with every ounce of breath in our
bodies.
The current debate over economic vision is not merely
about policy preferences, tax rates, election cycles, or trade particulars. At
the core of those who believe in free enterprise, who believe it is a core
tenet of our nation’s founding, who believe that what is at stake is crucial if
we are to preserve not only the American experiment but Western civilization,
is this: a distinct view of the human person, of freedom, and of the kind of
society that best allows people to flourish.
Do we still believe that free people, acting with virtue
and responsibility, are capable of building a good society without coercion
from above?
Because beneath the daily noise of politics, beneath the
headlines and outrage and social media chaos, there is a much more fundamental
struggle underway — a struggle over the dignity of the human person and the
future of freedom itself.
Economic freedom is not merely an efficiency mechanism,
and it never has been. It is not merely a system that produces more goods and
services. It is not merely a way to maximize GDP. It is, surely, all of those
things, by the way. It just is not only those things. Economic freedom is a moral
necessity because the human person possesses dignity, agency, creativity, and
responsibility. When a society forgets this, it does not merely become poorer.
It becomes smaller, more cynical, more dependent. It possesses less character
and less agency. And this is to say, it becomes less human.
The great crisis of our time is not merely inflation,
debt, regulation, political polarization, and technological disruption. Those
things matter. But beneath them lies something even more dangerous: a growing
loss of confidence in the moral capacity of free people.
More and more, we are told that freedom is too risky.
That ordinary people cannot be trusted. That experts must decide. That
bureaucrats must manage. That central planners must be tasked with the role of
allocating resources. These
authorities, we are told, will save us from uncertainty, inequality, and
instability — from the failures of a market system
— you know, that incredibly free and open
and low-tax and low-regulation market we have all been living in.
Yes, the Bernies and Warrens and AOCs and university
professors who have never run a P&L tell us all these things, and most of
these folks have said so for many years — whether they be extreme statists or
overconfident technocrats. But the urgency of the message today is not about
the message we are countering but the direction from which it is coming. The so-called new right economic
manifesto has accepted all of the underlying tenets of central planning, and
the road to which this goes is not ambiguous or unclear.
But history teaches us something profoundly different.
The greatest achievements of civilization have not and cannot come from
centralized power. Our duty as lovers of freedom and believers in the God-given
dignity of the human person is to promote unleashed creativity. Risk-taking and
entrepreneurialism are indispensable to this. So is the allocation of capital.
The demonization of the investor class has become crass and cynical, and maybe
effective, politics, but it is ideologically and practically insane. Those who claim to value family
businesses and strong communities demonize capital formation and innovation to
the peril of their own stated agenda.
The moral, communitarian, and interpersonal character we
want in our vision for society as conservatives is not threatened by free
enterprise, but it is threatened by central planning. It is threatened by
confiscation. It is threatened by the dulling of our senses and agency that
comes with an unending creep of state power. The result is the stagnation that
comes from subpar allocation of resources, from the centralization of
decision-making that inevitably leads to uninformed decisions and flawed
incentive structures.
The right spent the second half of the 20th century claiming that
bureaucrats create European stagnation, that committees cannot replicate what
free people create voluntarily, that planners lack dispersed knowledge. We
argued for entrepreneurial imagination and accurately said that the state cannot
replace the moral energy that comes from human beings acting responsibly in
freedom.
2008 was the seminal moment in which so many things
changed. The right has still not wrestled with the implications of what took
place in 2008. I am well aware that it was a pivotal moment in my own life and
career, but I have become convinced over the years that it was a paradigmatic
moment for our movement and our country, too, in which the right’s reliance on
efficiency arguments for free enterprise would no longer be taken for granted,
and when our inability to connect free enterprise to deeper transcendent truth
would leave us on our back feet. Many people may not understand what actually
created the 2008 financial crisis, but what I do understand is how the mood
shifted in the aftermath. And
it was a long time coming.
We now must restate pro-market arguments to some who were
once our own people. We need to reframe markets as ecosystems of human action
and demand that the discussion center around a coherent view of the human
person — an anthropology worthy of the conservative worldview.
Every political philosophy contains an assumption about
what human beings are. And the defenders of economic freedom must never concede
this argument. We are not defending markets because we worship money. We are
defending markets because we believe people matter. The central planner sees populations.
We see human beings. The planner sees units. The free society sees souls. The
planner sees problems to manage. We see human beings made for purpose,
creativity, sacrifice, and contribution.
Free markets help to build wealth, they lift people from
poverty, they extend life expectancy, reduce disease, expand opportunity,
democratize consumption, and create prosperity on a scale previous generations could
not imagine.
Those are all necessary but insufficient claims.
The new right and the old and new left suggest they can
produce similar outcomes with more control, centrally manage efficiency, and
use their preferences to create their vision of fairness. And if our only
argument is material output, we will eventually lose to whoever promises enough
comfort. But the deeper argument for freedom, including economic freedom, is
moral.
Human beings are moral actors. And moral action requires
choice. Responsibility requires freedom. Virtue requires agency. And this is
why the defense of economic freedom must always be connected to the defense of
civil society, family, faith, local institutions, and moral responsibility.
Freedom detached from virtue collapses into decadence. Virtue detached from freedom
collapses into coercion.
This is why the old fusionist project mattered so much.
Fusionism understood something profoundly important: that economic liberty and
moral order are not enemies. They are partners. Fusionism rejected two false
choices. The first false choice was the idea that society must choose between
moral order and economic freedom. The second false choice was the idea that
markets alone are sufficient to sustain civilization. Both are wrong. A healthy
society needs free institutions and virtuous people. It needs entrepreneurship
and character. It needs prosperity and responsibility. It needs liberty ordered
toward transcendent truth. The
fusionist understanding recognized that the state cannot manufacture virtue.
But it can certainly destroy the institutions that cultivate it. Families
cultivate virtue. Churches cultivate virtue. Communities
cultivate virtue.
Voluntary associations cultivate virtue. Work cultivates virtue. Responsibility
cultivates virtue. The state does not — and cannot.
Markets do not replace morality. But they are the venues
for morally formed human beings to create, grow, and innovate. Fusionism
protects markets from unconstrained nature because it properly orders
jurisdictions and disentangles confused roles — a paternalistic state, most
importantly. The paternalistic state increasingly seeks to absorb the mediating
institutions that stand between the individual and centralized power. The more
dependent people become on centralized systems, the weaker families become. The
weaker local communities become. The weaker religious institutions become. The
weaker personal responsibility becomes. Dependency is not morally neutral. And
neither is confiscatory statism.
A society that transfers responsibility upward inevitably
drains initiative downward. And eventually people begin to lose confidence in
themselves. One of the greatest tragedies of this modern political moment is
that too many people have come to see themselves primarily as claimants rather
than creators. Recipients rather than builders. Victims rather than agents.
National Review continues to stand athwart history saying that free enterprise
is a system worth defending because it values the human person in the right
way. Because capital
markets are fundamentally about belief in the future. Think about what capital
allocation actually is. An investor says:
“I believe this entrepreneur can build something
valuable.”
“I believe this worker can create.”
“I believe this company can innovate.”
“I believe tomorrow can be better than today.”
Capital formation is an act of optimism. It is an act of
trust. It is an act of confidence in human possibility. And this is why attacks
on capital markets are so misguided.
Of course, markets are imperfect, because human beings
are imperfect. There are bubbles, excesses, frauds, manias, greed, and
speculation. There always have been. But the answer to fallen human nature is
not concentrated power. Because concentrated power is exercised by fallen human
beings too. The question is never whether flawed people will exist. We know too
much about human nature to assume otherwise. The question is whether power will
be decentralized or centralized. Whether failure will be distributed or
consolidated. Whether correction mechanisms will exist. Whether people remain
free to act, fail, learn, build, and try again.
The market economy works because it accounts for human
imperfection better than centralized systems do. It disperses power. It allows
adaptation. It creates feedback. It rewards value creation. Centralized systems entrench
ruling classes. Markets disrupt them. That is why economic freedom matters. Not
because every market outcome is morally ideal. But because freedom preserves
the conditions under which human flourishing remains possible.
And we desperately need to recover the moral legitimacy
of profit itself. Profit
is not theft. Profit is not exploitation. In a free exchange, profit is
evidence that value was created for another person. When an entrepreneur risks
capital, employs workers, serves customers, and allocates resources
effectively, profit becomes a signal that scarce resources were directed toward
productive ends.
Now, yes, cronyism exists — and never more so than in a
system of imperialistic, discretionary tariffs. Corruption exists. Rent-seeking
exists. Free enterprise is
antithetical to an economy of political favoritism. We must fight against
cronyism if we are to regain the hearts and minds of young people who are
understandably jaded by what happens when the government picks winners and
losers.
One of the most destructive lies in modern culture is the
Keynesian notion that meaning is primarily found in consumption. It is not.
Meaning is found in contribution, responsibility, and service. In creation. In
work well done. The dignity of work transcends income and becomes about
participation in creation itself. We were made to cultivate, build, organize,
invent, and serve. And when societies suffocate enterprise under bureaucracy
and dependency, they do not merely reduce growth rates. They diminish human purpose.
Now, let me say something especially important for this
moment in history. Many people today feel anxious about technology,
globalization, AI, financialization, and economic change. Some of those
concerns are legitimate. Disruption is real. Communities can be destabilized.
Transitions can be painful. But the answer cannot be a retreat into economic
nationalism, centralized planning, or anti-market populism. History teaches us
that prosperity does not come from insulating society from dynamism. It comes from
channeling dynamism productively.
The answer to change is not paralysis. It is resilience.
And resilience is built through strong families, strong communities, strong
institutions, strong education, strong moral formation, and strong local
cultures. Not through permanent dependence on centralized authority. We should
absolutely seek policies that strengthen workers, families, savings,
investment, ownership, entrepreneurship, and social mobility. But we must never
forget that prosperity is created before it can be distributed.
And capital matters. Savings matter. Investment matters.
Entrepreneurship matters. Productivity matters.
A culture that punishes capital formation eventually
punishes workers, too. Because workers are more productive when equipped with
better tools, better technology, better systems, and better enterprises.
Capital and labor are not natural enemies. They are partners in production. The
Marxian tragedy of progressive and new right economics is the attempt to pit
them against one another as though prosperity were a fixed pie.
Human creativity expands possibilities. This is the
miracle of free economies: They transform imagination into abundance. But none
of this is inevitable. Freedom requires maintenance. Civilization requires
stewardship. And economic liberty requires moral confidence. We must once again
become willing to defend the free society not apologetically, but
affirmatively.
And we should certainly not be embarrassed to defend the
institutions of free enterprise that have done more to alleviate suffering and
expand opportunity than any economic system in human history. But our defense
must always remain rooted in a larger moral vision. Because a market is not the
ultimate thing — the human person is. The economy exists for the person — not
the person for the economy. And this is precisely why coercive statism
ultimately fails. Because it reduces people into instruments of political
administration. The free society recognizes something higher. That every
individual possesses inherent dignity. That freedom is not merely procedural —
it is deeply connected to what it means to be human. And so the challenge
before us is not merely political. It is cultural. Spiritual. Civilizational.
Will we defend the mediating institutions that sustain
liberty? Will we preserve the moral foundations necessary for economic freedom
to endure? Or will we slowly trade freedom for dependency, dynamism for
bureaucracy, responsibility for grievance, and aspiration for entitlement?
I remain hopeful because I still believe in people. And I
still believe that when human dignity and economic liberty are joined together,
extraordinary things happen.
The free society is worth defending because the human
person is worth defending. And the task before us is to ensure that future
generations inherit not merely wealth, but freedom itself.
My professional life has been and will continue to be in
the capital markets, stewarding wealth, and utilizing the miracle of markets
toward the achievement of financial aims. But accompanying the blessing that is
my professional life is my moral duty to continue studying economic history and
doing all I can to defend free enterprise for what it is: a moral architecture
that promotes human dignity, constrains human nature, and feeds responsibility
and flourishing of creatures made in the image of God.