May 14, 2005
Tribute To A Generation
By James Pierson

(Note: The following remarks were delivered at a farewell dinner for the John M. Olin Foundation on April 6, 2005)

John Olin set this foundation in motion in 1975 -- a year when prospects for the future seemed darker than at any time since the Great Depression. American power was in retreat around the world; Soviet power was on the march. Socialism, indeed, or at least some form of it, seemed the wave of the future. Our cities were ungovernable, it was said; perhaps it was true of the nation as well. Our institutions and very form of government, some said, were inadequate to the challenges of modern times. Our economy was burdened by both inflation and unemployment. Americans were told by experts that they must adjust to a declining standard of living. The American Century, as Henry Luce had called it, was over.

Today, thirty years later, as the foundation closes, the conventional wisdom of that period has been turned on its head. The experts were wrong about every important issue of our time. The historic events of recent decades are familiar to us all, from the fall of communism to the rise of free markets and the spread of liberty and democracy around the globe. Today, in contrast to the past, there are complaints that the United States is too powerful in the world, that her economy is too strong and efficient, that Americans are too proud and self-confident about themselves and their institutions. This is an exchange that John Olin would have gladly accepted.

In some small way, perhaps, the modest foundation that he established contributed to this historic turnabout. For in contrast to the past, when great changes were spurred by great events, such as the Civil War, or the Great Depression, or World War II, these were inspired to a great degree by ideas, by the power of the written and the spoken word, and by the testing of these ideas against the challenges of the world. And it was here, in the world of ideas, where this institution played its part and made its mark.

It has been said, not by me, that the John M. Olin Foundation was dollar-for dollar as influential in its time as any such enterprise has ever been. If it was true, and to the extent it was true, the questions have been asked: How did they do it? What did they know? What was their secret?

There is the story, widely repeated, of the great jockey Ron Turcotte, who rode his horse to the Triple Crown in 1973, setting speed records (records which still stand) along the way at each of the race tracks of that venerable competition. After he had won the Belmont Stakes by an astounding 31 lengths, reporters asked him the question: What was your secret?

The jockey simply pointed to the large chestnut colt grazing in the distance. "I didn't need a secret," he said, "I had Secretariat." And so he did -- the greatest race horse ever.

What, then, was our secret?

Well, we had you, the men and women in this room, and others who are not here: Bill Buckley, Irving Kristol, Norman Podhoretz, Michael Novak, Hilton Kramer, Roger Kimball, Heather MacDonald, Robby George, Diane Ravitch, Father Neuhaus, and many others --Milton Friedman and the market economists; Henry Manne and the law and economics scholars at Yale, Harvard, Chicago and Stanford; Allan Bloom, Harvey Mansfield, and the students of Leo Strauss; Samuel Huntington, Eliot Cohen and others in foreign policy; institutions like The Heritage Foundation, The Hoover Institution, The Manhattan Institute, and the American Enterprise Institute; and publications from Commentary to The Public Interest to The New Criterion to City Journal. The list could go on.

We -- the trustees and staff of the John M. Olin Foundation -- had the good sense and the good judgment to form a partnership with you, to offer encouragement and support, to join with you in an important cause, to listen to your advice and to learn from your thoughtful writings. The Foundation’s influence was expressed through your work. After all, a charitable foundation can do little good in the world if it does not have talented and dedicated people to support, encourage, and recognize. And, in this respect, we were fortunate indeed.

Yes, these names will loom large when the history of our time is written. The historians of the future will have to reckon with them. Perhaps, too, they will take note of that modest foundation that proudly joined forces with them. What will the historians say? What, from the perspective of time, did this mean? Perhaps we might steal a page from those historians of the future and speak of this era as they will speak of it.

This was called a conservative revolution, a description that was more than a little misleading and not altogether accurate. The poet Robert Frost preferred his revolutions by half -- semi-revolutions he called them -- and rightly so. The thought of conservatives throwing everything overboard and staging a revolution is especially incongruous. Revolutions are doctrinaire, single minded, and usually marred by a failure of perspective.

No, this was not a revolution, but more a renewal -- a renewal of faith in American institutions, a deepened respect for its past, a recognition that a free and prosperous future must be built on our inherited institutions and ideals. And because it was a renewal rather than a revolution, it could draw on the varied currents of the American experience, could proceed from many directions in different fields, in different kinds of institutions, and through the efforts of people with different views.

But why, in a great and successful nation, whose institutions had been tested by time and hard experience, should such a renewal have been needed?

The events of the 1960s -- and especially the loss of President Kennedy -- had put an end to the advancing trajectory of American liberalism. For liberals of the time, who monopolized the world of ideas, these events destroyed their confidence in the future, and very nearly wrecked their faith in the nation itself. They had tried to construct a Vital Center, composed of the best of liberal and conservative ideals; but now in the aftermath of these events, the center could not hold.

Gradually, over a period of years, their perspective changed from one of building a better future for all to purging the nation of its sins and shortcomings. Before they saw possibility and growth, but now saw mainly fault and failure.

The convulsions that tore apart the liberal movement created what was called “the crisis of governance” of the 1970s – for the conservatives were not prepared to govern the nation, but liberals were now incapable of doing so. It was at this time that John Olin set his foundation in motion, and when this generation of thinkers began to exert their influence.

The conservative renewal was launched from many directions. Bill Buckley and his companions at National Review provided a model for others to follow. Neo-conservatives, led by Irving Kristol, Norman Podhoretz, Michael Novak, and Hilton Kramer, and others, challenged the anti-Americanism of the new liberalism, broadened the discussion into the areas of religion, literature, and culture generally, and provided a path to follow for those who had never before entertained conservative ideas. The economists led the way to a new appreciation of free markets and entrepreneurship. All challenged the idea that socialism is a humane alternative to a system based on liberty. And, in time, with persistence and skill, they made their case.

Yet, they were an unusual group of conservatives. It was true that they sought to defend and preserve our inherited institutions and principles. In this sense, they certainly were conservatives, and especially so in the context of their time and in relation to the nature of the challenges they faced. Yet they were liberals, too, in many ways. For what did they seek to preserve but liberty, democracy and popular government, the rule of law -- and, indeed, a belief in progress itself (for progress was a traditional precept of the American creed)?

Yes, the strange alchemy of time and circumstance had somehow converted conservatives into the indispensable guardians of the liberal heritage in America. It was this perhaps more than anything that accounted for their influence and success -- for in occupying this higher ground they embraced both the past and the future, tradition and progress, pride and hope. And in this way they created a new "vital center" in American thought and political life – one that would in time be attacked from all sides.

There was much that was new here. The John M. Olin Foundation itself, along with a few sister institutions, represented something original in their emphasis on ideas an on their ambition to gain influence in the major centers of power in American life – in the leading universities, in the worlds of publishing and commerce in New York, and in the arena of national debate. This foundation, and a few others, responded to a great challenge in a creative way. They had no models to look to for instruction.

Yes, when all was said and done, all of these men and women – conservatives, disillusioned liberals, Catholics, Jews, and protestants -- gathered from the four winds and from every direction, and together they planted a flag at the end of the 20th Century -- visible to all, understandable to all, meaningful to all -- pointing back to the founding of the nation and beyond, and forward into a vast future, so that in times of doubt, confusion, and loss of faith, it might be looked to for guidance and inspiration. For here, in the experience and achievements of this generation, in the events of these thirty years, are to be found the principles that have ever led to renewal and progress.

In the history of the American nation, stretching back over two centuries, it is difficult to think of any generation of thoughtful men and women who started with less, persevered in the face of greater odds, yet did more that was needful. Other generations had accomplished much, to be sure: the abolitionists beginning in the 1830s, for example, or the Progressives from 1900 to the Great War. Yet the efforts of this generation were every bit as important and far reaching – and, yes, perhaps even more so.


The trustees of the foundation, as is well known, made a promise to John Olin to end the foundation at some point. When that time eventually arrives, as it will shortly, the foundation will slide gently into that good night (to borrow the phrase from Dylan Thomas) -- but not only gently: gratefully, too, in recognition of the opportunity it had been given; proudly, in recognition of real accomplishments; hopefully, also, that others would pick up the torch that had been carried so far; and, yes, honorably, in recognition of a solemn promise made and now kept.

Guided by clear principles and a sense of mission given to it by a wise founder, directed day to day by men and women devoted to that cause, this modest enterprise represented something of unusual clarity and definition. It was, in some ways, an ideal of its kind. And now it will take its leave never having lost its way, never having grown confused or disoriented about its purposes, never having struggled to find important things to do, and never having betrayed the man whose vision had brought it into being. In the future, it will always be recalled for what it did and stood for in a turbulent time, and would forever be linked with the names of those dedicated men and women whose ideas helped to change the course of a nation.

In looking back, and in reflecting on what it all meant, one naturally thought of what had been lost along the way. For it had been something real, full of blood and sweat but also tears. Time had worn away much and death had taken too many: John Olin and Bill Simon, notably, but also others: Samuel Lipman, Allan Bloom, Robert Bartley, treasured friends all. And still others.

There was much here, however, much to be learned, but it had only been a beginning, a step into the future, but only a step. Others, a few perhaps, might come forward to emulate John Olin, not to repeat what was done here, for this was no longer possible because so much had changed. It could never be quite so easy in any case. The task could not be reduced to formulas or bromides.

It had to be fought for every day, year in and year out.

No, those who would emulate John Olin will do something different: They will take the measure of their time, assess its challenges, and, just as he did, use their intelligence and creativity to secure the blessings of liberty in a new time for generations yet to come. That is a legacy that would do honor to that far-sighted American.

James Piereson was executive director of the John M. Olin Foundation from 1985 to 2005.

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