‘What Should I Do?’
Advice to young conservatives, and others

Now and then, young people ask me, “What should I do? What would you advise?” These are conservatives, of the “old” variety (young as the people themselves are). They believe in the principles and ideals of the American founding. They want to work, somehow, in journalism, politics, or government. But …
Yes, but.
I’ll get back to the advice “in due course” (to use a familiar Buckley phrase).
The years 2016 and 2017 were amazing. Everything changed on the right. The conservative movement, the Republican Party—transformed. It was a remarkable display of shape-shifting.
Out were limited government, the rule of law, free enterprise, international trade, U.S. leadership in the world, character in office, personal responsibility … In were—other things.
Longtime Reaganites were suddenly Buchananites or Trumpites. Longtime Thatcherites were suddenly Farage-niks, or Orbánites, or Le Pen–ists, or AfD-ers …
People who were devotees of Hayek and Friedman were now warming to central planning and tariffs. People who had cried “Don’t tread on me!” were now for the smack of firm government. Champions of individual rights were talking up “the common good”—as defined by themselves, of course.
People who had long warned about the dangers of disengagement abroad were now sounding like George McGovern: “Come home, America!”
People who once thought of Bill Clinton as a scandal and an outrage—morally unfit to be president—were now accusing others of “moral preening.”
Was the American founding all that good an idea in the first place? Wasn’t the Declaration marred by that “We hold these truths” rhetoric?
Sure, tough luck for the Ukrainians, but weren’t they gay and woke, and all too fond of the EU, which is bad? And wasn’t Putin butch and strong, defending Western civilization, indeed Christendom?
Moreover, weren’t NATO and Victoria Nuland threatening Putin? And have you read Seymour Hersh’s latest reporting on Ukraine? Hot stuff!
I heard things, and saw things, that would have curled your hair. Over the years, some people have urged me to write a book—kind of a What I Saw on the Right. I think it would be a good book. It might even perform a service in leaving a record of the era.
But I would not want to relive it.
To “go with the flow” is one of the most powerful human instincts. The most powerful? I don’t know, I’d have to consult Darwin. Let me tell a story, one I have told before. In fact, let me paste a few paragraphs from a piece of mine called “A Political Testimony,” published on Election Day 2024:
A few years ago, a friend of mine spoke at an event. Afterward, a woman went up to him to engage him in conversation. My friend related the conversation to me, at length. I will give the nub of it.
This lady expressed her antipathy to me. “I used to love him, but he’s changed so much.” “Oh?” said my friend. “He seems to me one of the few who have not changed. He’s the same thinker, writer, and person he always was. Solid as a rock.”
“Yes,” said the lady, “but when the rest of us changed, he stayed the same. Therefore, he’s the one who changed.” “Madam,” said my friend, “I cannot argue with that.”
Back to the young people—the “old” young conservatives who say, “What should I do?” They want to work in “conservatism,” somehow. But there are precious few jobs in the kind of conservatism they’re talking about.
There is fear too. “Can I retweet things I agree with, but that go against the Trumpian flow? Can I ‘like’ certain posts? Should I scrub my social media or get off social media altogether? Should I stay away from certain conferences, lest my presence be noted?”
People want to know how to navigate the professional waters. But they also want to know, “What can I do in general? How can I make a ‘difference’ in our country today? What can I do to help the general cause I believe in and counter the causes I think are destructive?”
Recently, I jotted a little list—a list of poor platitudes, mainly, but the best I could manage. See whether you can do better, by addition or subtraction.
My list went something like this:
Obey your highest sense of right. You will want to be able to look at yourself in the mirror. And beware rationalization, especially self-rationalization. It’s the easiest thing in the world to fall into.
Navigate the waters, sure. The political world is no place for the pure. (Neither is the world at large, even if it ought to be.) Whittaker Chambers said, “To live is to maneuver.” Sure, but don’t maneuver yourself over a cliff. There are lines to be drawn.
Read things that are honest and nourishing (whether you agree with them or not). “You are what you eat.” “You are the media you consume.”
Vote for candidates who are devoted to our basic constitutional structure. Policy positions are important. (I myself have lots of them.) But the constitutional order, within which policy debates take place, is more important still.
Vote for candidates who have a basic respect for the truth—the truth against lies.
You may have to be in the wilderness for a while—even a long while. Fine. Better that than a comfy bordello.
(“… come out from among them, and be ye separate.” Easy to say, easy to quote, hard to do. Very.)
Don’t let people convince you that your fundamental morality is “moral preening” or “moral vanity.” Don’t be a judgmental jerk, of course. No one likes a scold. But don’t let people make you feel guilty for believing in right and wrong.
Be not afraid, to the extent possible. Swim against the current, if the current is going the wrong way, as far as you can.
Are you a writer? Then be a writer. This is different from party activism or movement activism. Such activism has its place, obviously. But being a writer—a real writer—is something else.
(Bill Buckley would talk about a “conservative writer” versus “a writer who’s conservative.” The “conservative writer” gets up in the morning thinking, “What can I do for the party or movement today? What’s the line? Who are the targets?” The writer who’s conservative—is actually a writer.)
Being an individual can be hard. Damn hard. But you probably want to be that rather than a tribalist.
Find allies where you can, and appreciate them. Band together, if it seems wise. But remember: “One with God is a majority.”
Who are your allies? These days, I think of my allies as people who support liberal democracy, or ordered liberty—whatever our more particular beliefs (about appropriate tax rates and the like). Also, I regard the Ukraine war as extremely important. And the Ukraine war stands for the broader conflict between freedom and tyranny.
If you are so disposed: pray.
In your daily walk, your daily conduct, be your best self. Let your light shine.
(This can be a struggle. But it’s a struggle well worth waging and winning.)
In 2017, I believe, when everything around us was topsy-turvy, I said to a friend and colleague—whose name is something like “William Kevinson”—“I don’t know what the hell to do. What is my role? What the hell should I do?” His answer was short and sweet: “Set an example.”
Ah, perfect. I haven’t always set a good example (heaven knows). Still, I pass the advice on to you: Set an example. And let the chips fall where they may.
Over and out.



Yes. To all of it.
Jay, I don't usually comment here, but I really appreciate the pep talk.
And while I am pretty sure that William Kevinson dude has a deserved reputation for his sharp wit, I also appreciate the subtler knife that you wield. (Yes that is a reference to a certain Young Adult book.)
"You may have to be in the wilderness for a while—even a long while. Fine. Better that than a comfy bordello."
That almost made me literally laugh out loud. 😂