What type of historical work are you involved in and what are the key concepts you’ve come up with?

I’m a historian and my most original contribution to scholarship so far has been providing a new paradigm for analyzing the history of ideology. A major focus of historical research these days is identity, especially race, class, gender, and (to a lesser extent) religion. I found that ideological identity was becoming, for many Americans, at least as important as those others, but was studied far less. I have tried to remedy that in my work.

According to the old “essentialist” view of ideology, all humans held one of two (and only two) basic philosophies, which then led them to adopt certain political positions, which then led them to a political tribe of “right” or “left.” So Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr., for instance, believed that there was a common “left-liberal” ideological thread that linked Thomas Jefferson, Andrew Jackson, Franklin Roosevelt, and John F. Kennedy.

My research shows that this essentialist view is backwards. In reality, people first identify with a tribe, then adopt the political positions of the tribe as a matter of socialization, and finally justify their belonging to that tribe by inventing a unifying philosophy ex post that makes these disparate positions cohere. Schlesinger failed to realize that there is radical divergence in the views of the figures he revered and that those on the “right” have just as great as a claim to Jackson as do those on the “left” (for instance, Jefferson and Jackson’s opposition to “big government” is rhetoric more likely found, if not practiced, on the political “right” today).

What are you trying to do in your work?

Help historians (and hopefully, by extension, the public) move beyond the stultifying left-right paradigm that is inadequate for understanding the political past or present. Once you’ve liberated yourself from the idea that left and right have fixed meanings, all kinds of fascinating possibilities open up. It leads the historian to see ideology in evolutionary rather than static terms and the Darwinian paradigm becomes highly informative. We can see moments of ideological mutation and the ways that historical “selection pressures” cause some mutations to die out and some to survive in the world of electoral politics. Survival of the fittest describes ideological evolution as much as it does biological evolution.

Doesn’t Jonathan Haidt show that there are certain essential “moral foundations” that divide those on the left and right?

People first identify with a tribe, then adopt the political positions of the tribe as a matter of socialization, and finally justify their belonging to that tribe by inventing a unifying philosophy ex post that makes these disparate positions cohere.

Haidt only shows that there are traits that correlate more strongly with one ideological tribe than the other, but this doesn’t mean that these traits are essential, defining characteristics of ideology. If they were, then we wouldn’t see constant change in what each political tribe values. So Haidt points out that those on the right have a higher sense of the sacred as one of their moral foundations, and yet that is relatively recent. In the 1930s, the tribe of the left, associated with Roosevelt’s New Deal, was far more religious than the tribe of the right. I explored this in my doctoral dissertation. Haidt hasn’t identified an essence of a timeless ideology, but only certain characteristics that are common among the demographics that make up the ideological tribes (which are in constant flux).

If ideology is such an inadequate way to approach the politics, why is it so persistent among historians and the public?

Likely because most Americans are highly invested in these terms. It’s a source of identity and letting it go is like letting go of a religion. It’s tough to do since it provides meaning, community, and a sense of superiority over those on the “other side.” It’s painful to face the harsh reality that ideologies are incoherent grab-bags of unrelated positions and that neither ideology is wholly correct. It’s much easier to declare for “a side” than do the hard work of thinking through the complexities of history and politics that are far more multidimensional than the “two sides” offered by the political spectrum.

Your approach sounds almost postmodern.

Yes, but not quite. Where Derrida would say there’s nothing outside the text, I would say, when it comes to ideology, there’s nothing outside the tribe. I reject the radical skepticism of certain postmodernists, but do find some of the their methods helpful in exposing the lack of essence or logos behind certain terms. Not all language needs deconstructing (there is, for instance, an essential color that the term “blue” refers to or an essential shape that the term “circle” refers to), but Ideological terms are ripe for deconstruction.

Haven’t you also been interested in history education?

Yes, I pursued this topic as a Visiting Scholar at Stanford earlier this year. The idea has taken hold among certain historians that we should move beyond learning facts and instead just focus on the “real” skills of historians—the analysis of documents and the developing of historical interpretations.

What these people fail to realize is that learning happens on three interrelated levels that build upon on another. At level one we memorize atomic facts. At level two we combine/relate these facts into a knowledge structure. At level three we learn to apply this knowledge to a problem situation.

This is true for all disciplines. We can’t develop a historical theory without a deep knowledge of the period, theme, or event under examination. And, yes, this means memorizing names, dates, and events (gasp!). Imagine a historian trying to develop an interpretation of the causes of the American Revolution without knowing atomic facts about the Stamp Tax, the Battle of Saratoga, the Sons of Liberty, etc. It would be as silly as a doctor trying to perform heart surgery without knowledge of the cardiovascular system.

I often hear from misguided faculty that students these days don’t need to learn facts because they can “always just look them up.” Why carry facts around in your head when you always carry them around in your phone?

My ideas about the flawed conception of conservatism came when reading great authors, such as George Nash, Lisa McGirr, Jack Diggins, Sam Tanenhaus, and Sean Wilentz.

This is a crazy idea. Imagine a surgeon slicing somebody open and then saying, “everybody wait while I look up the location of the next artery.” The surgeon needs to have that atomic fact in her head before they can perform the procedure. Beyond that, it’s not the fact itself that matters, but the knowledge structure of the circulatory system and that can’t “just be looked up,” but must be acquired through long, patient study of atomic facts and their relations.

How did you think up these ideas?

The Ray Bradbury Theater television program used to open with Bradbury answering that exact question. It showed him entering a room full of objects and then sitting down to his typewriter to think up a story. This is a terrible way to approach writing and I’m guessing that it’s not really how Bradbury went about it.

Anyone who sits down to write without a clear idea of what they want to say will find themselves staring at a blank screen for hours and ultimately getting frustrated and giving up. I’ve found three far better ways to generate ideas.

First, do pen-and-paper brainstorming. While brainstorming as a group activity has been proven ineffective, it’s highly beneficial as an individual exercise. I sit down with sketchbooks and make lists, draw diagrams, and make mind maps. When you think onto the page, it thinks back at you. It’s amazing what you don’t know that you know.

Second, grapple with texts in the field you are developing a theory about. All of us stand on the shoulders of giants in our thinking and it’s by building upon or dissenting from previous authors that we come up with our original insights. My ideas about the flawed conception of conservatism came when reading great authors, such as George Nash, Lisa McGirr, Jack Diggins, Sam Tanenhaus, and Sean Wilentz.

Third, keep the antenna up. If you keep your subject in mind and think about it when you’ve got nothing else to think about (when walking, working in the yard, waiting in a line, doing dishes, stuck in a boring meeting), then ideas will pop into your head. These “mindless moments” are great times to mull over ideas. I wonder if the advent of the smartphone hasn’t caused a decline in the development of original ideas since people have fewer mindless moments.

What is your writing process? How do you put the ideas into words?

When people find out I’ve authored several books, they often say, “I could never do that. I could never write a book.” But, actually, nobody can. I’m not aware of anyone who can just sit down and crank out a book. But what anyone can do is write for fifteen minutes a day (minimum) and if they do that, then within the year they will have a book. As the great historian Forrest McDonald pointed out, the key to writing is consistency. We make time for our priorities, so I make time for writing and build it into my schedule. It is at the top of my to-do list. Every day, I have to turn off everything and write for at least 15 minutes. Of course, that 15 minutes usually turns into far longer (perhaps several hours), but if I can just develop the discipline to force myself to write for 15 minutes a day, then the achievement of my writing goals naturally follows.

What is your past education and experience?

I completed my PhD in history and philosophy at USC working with Richard Fox, a noted cultural historian, and the late Dallas Willard, a beloved Christian theologian. Both were excellent mentors who helped me discipline my thinking and read carefully.

Strangely, before becoming a historian I was a public accountant. I’ve not heard of anyone else who took that route. I majored in accounting as an undergraduate and then worked for one of the Big Five accounting firms, but I detested every moment of this career and my disgust gave me the courage to go back to school and pursue my first love—U.S. history.

What got you interested in history?

I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t interested in history. As a child, I had a set of old 19^th century biographies with volumes on Edison, Pocahontas (incidentally, an ancestor of mine), Washington, Chief Joseph, and others. I read those books until the covers fell off. I wish I could say there was an “ah ha” moment when I awoke to my true passion, but it’s always been there. I simply lacked the good sense to pursue it at first and was sidetracked by the money and glamor of the business world.

Interview by Nathaniel Ashcraft.