We go on trying to understand politics in terms of politics alone—which increasingly has come to mean in terms of economics—as though political beliefs and problems existed in a vacuum, totally detached from the rest of our culture.
Children become the wards of the state, reared for the state's purposes; marriage survives simply to reduce the enervating consequences of promiscuity.
The construction of history en philosophe, as Voltaire named it, relies on a more or less arbitrary selection of facts.
No myth of the 20th century is more pervasive than the belief that intellectuals determine the climate of opinion and shape the values of their society.
Thanks to American industry, marvels of technology—microwave ovens, citizens band radios, hand calculators, home computers, —flow in an endless stream.
All of our great presidents tangled with the press, and their supporters made reference to its power and ability to set the agenda of the national debate.
If you and I are not moral beings, we are mere walking and talking machines composed of organic tissues. It is the moral imagination which confers our identity upon us.
I am going to argue that ideas often stand in an illuminating relationship to some objective reality, but that often, perhaps most of the time, that is not their primary function.
Have these United States—or rather, the people of this country—lost the sense of what makes life worth living?
Without the New Left there would have been no outraged cry from Middle Americans for the restoration of order.