Zohran Mamdani, the self-proclaimed democratic socialist, set off a flurry of commentary after upsetting Andrew Cuomo in the Democratic primary for New York City’s mayoral race. He may be the beginning of a wave of radical socialist sentiment. While a certain amount of political physics seems to be at work, with the Trump-MAGA vibe-shift setting off an opposite reaction, we should look deeper at why there seems to be so much energy behind collectivism on both sides of the political aisle. Collectivism is a kind of “political junk food” that people crave in periods when they are particularly hungry for community and solidarity.
Collectivism means socializing things through force, rather than through voluntary community. Collectivism demands forced redistribution of wealth and uses this or that version of the “common” interest to undermine individual ownership, choice, and rights. In housing policy, collectivism takes the form of subsidizing home ownership through the government-sponsored enterprises Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac. It also looks like NIMBYism preventing housing and land development for the sake of the “community.”
It can give rise to specific policies; with Mamdani, for instance, it means explicit rent control. The public school system, especially its school lunch and after-school programs, forces everyone to contribute financially to feed and teach some people’s (the “community’s”) kids. And our national entitlement programs—Social Security and Medicare—require everyone to participate and, supposedly, benefit everyone.
The legacy of entitlement programs from FDR to LBJ has been largely framed in terms of charity, solidarity, and community. Many people on the left, and even some on the right, laud these programs for creating a social safety net and for contributing to the fabric of society. Some have hailed these collectivist programs for reducing poverty.
But collectivism is not charity. Nor does it generate true solidarity. Nor does it constitute civil society. It pretends to be and to do all these things. Collectivism wears the mask of charity and camaraderie. Though collectivism always brings tragedy, pointing out past failures doesn’t fully unmask it. It continues to capture people’s imaginations because it feeds their desire to belong and to participate in community. Like a pastry or a box of french fries, it seems particularly appealing when citizens are ravenously hungry, though those may really be the moments when solid sustenance is most sorely needed.
Aristotle argued that human beings are political animals. We are social creatures that must live in communities. And as rational creatures, we must engage in governance and participation in those communities. Tocqueville noted how the genius of the United States was its unleashing of voluntary associations for any and every problem and goal. Robert Nisbet famously argued in Quest for Community that Americans’ ability to form new voluntary associations as old ones became obsolete has been severely hampered by the rapid growth in the size and scope of government.
Collectivism is junk food for the body politic and for civil society. It superficially and temporarily addresses issues of belonging and participation. In collectivism, we have an unhealthy civic diet. Instead of the leafy greens, lean proteins, and healthy fats of civic associations, under collectivism, the body politic feeds on the hydrogenated oils and sugary starches of forced socialization. We’ve replaced a largely (classical) Mediterranean diet with the modern American diet.
Collectivism also masquerades as the means to living justly and generously. After all, are we not a noble and generous society because we spend billions of dollars to care for poor children with school lunches and the SNAP programs, to care for poor adults through welfare, to care for the sick through Medicaid, and to care for the elderly through social security and Medicare? Are we not “just” when we ensure every kid gets an education, or when we create government programs to “right” past racial or socioeconomic discrimination?
The people campaigning and voting for Zohran Mamdani certainly believed they were advancing justice and generosity by backing a candidate who promised greater collectivism. For them, participation in political action to advance government social programs fulfills their obligation and desire to do something good for others and to belong to a “community.” Yet the collectivist policies proposed by Mamdani are deeply coercive and will undermine the health of civil society.
Getting rid of collectivist junk food is a start, but we also must reintroduce healthy food to the body politick again.
Consider again the young college graduates who drove Mamdani’s radical candidacy to electoral success. They engaged, for a time, in political advocacy. But what do they do after the sugar rush fades? Do they return to building their families? Most are not married, and those who are likely don’t have children. Do they return to building up their churches, synagogues, or mosques? Most are not part of these institutions. We can be forgiven for wondering whether they engage in real civic associations at all.
Collectivism also seems to answer many people’s cultural insecurities. On the political left, many wealthy, educated people feel deeply uneasy about their success and blessings, which they label “privilege.” And others, who have not done so well economically and are saddled with five, sometimes six, figure debt from their college years, resent the hand they were dealt and how they have played it. Collective government programs of welfare, redistribution, and rent control look like appealing solutions.
The political right has different cultural insecurities. Many worry about declining labor force participation among working-age men, about the opioid crisis, about falling birth rates and falling family formation, about declining manufacturing employment, and about reduced national defense capabilities. They suggest a naïve free trade, free market, and limited government philosophy allowed corporations to wipe out communities and their corresponding civic institutions, especially in middle America.
Collectivist policies seem to soothe these anxieties: restrictions on international trade, promotion of labor unions, large government spending programs, modifications to the tax code to engineer social results—all have been advocated by Republican officials over the last few years. Collectivist “solutions” also exist to address more general anxieties about corporate “bigness” and “foreign” competition.
Finally, collectivism is difficult to combat and to reverse because it builds a self-reinforcing cronyism around itself. As ever greater sums of tax dollars are used to fund collectivist endeavors, more people, companies, and industries stand to lose from reform and reduction of government spending. The outcry over DOGE when federal funds were frozen revealed just how extensively federal dollars reach into society—seemingly everywhere.
Special interest lobbyists and everyday Americans are not likely to let their taxpayer-funded livelihood disappear without a fight. So what can advocates of freedom and civil society do to combat collectivism?
We can work to build private institutions that promote belonging, participation, and meaning. Religion remains the essential bulwark of civil society. Voluntarily associating with others to worship God and to do His will has animated many of the greatest and most widespread acts of charity and civilization-building. There are many hopeful signs on the religious front from rising church attendance among young men to a leveling off of the growth in “Nones.”
There has also been a sea change in the legal landscape for the free exercise of religion. People of faith can increasingly bring their religious beliefs and commitments into the public square. What’s more, the explosion of school choice programs across the country has broken the collectivist government school monopoly, thereby creating more space for educational innovation and decentralized voluntary institution-building.
We should relearn and reinvigorate the American penchant for forming voluntary associations. Conservatives ought to direct more of their attention to local politics rather than national politics. People have to choose to go to city council, school board, and county commissioner meetings. They have to be willing to join commissions and committees. This requires effort, thought, and deliberation. It can’t be done while binge-watching Netflix or taking long vacations.
And, of course, combating collectivism involves kindly but firmly calling out collectivists’ misappropriation of justice, charity, and solidarity. Language matters, and we should not cede words to be redefined or allow people to throw inaccurate labels on things. We should make the case that collectivism replaces healthy voluntary association with unhealthy coercive socialization.
Finally, we can all practice cultivating wisdom and self-governance in our lives. Rightly ordered souls contribute to rightly ordered families, which contribute to rightly ordered societies. Getting rid of collectivist junk food is a start, but we also must reintroduce healthy food to the body politick again. And we need to train ourselves and others to find such food appetizing.
That is the surest way to keep collectivism at bay.
