Tradition and change: why both claim prudence

The classic argument, formulated notably by Edmund Burke, rests on the information contained in existing institutions. A rule that has lasted has been tested by situations nobody anticipated, and its effects, even if poorly understood, are known. Replacing it exposes one to unknown consequences, often discovered too late.

This position does not say that the existing order is good. It says that the cost of an error of reform is asymmetrical, because it is paid by real people and is hard to repair.

Its acknowledged weakness is that it also protects what ought to change, and that it supplies no criterion for distinguishing the two. A consistent conservatism must therefore say on what conditions it accepts a reform, failing which it is no longer an argument but a position of principle.

The symmetrical argument bears on the cost of inaction. A stable situation may produce a continuing harm, and doing nothing is also a decision, whose consequences are equally paid by real people. Faced with a worsening problem, waiting is the riskiest bet.

This position also has its known weakness: the difficulty of foreseeing the effects of a reform, in particular the adaptive reactions that sometimes cancel the intended effect. Supporters of change answer with experimentation, evaluation and reversibility, which are themselves arguments of prudence.

One distinction often makes the debate clearer than the opposition between conserving and reforming: that between reversible and irreversible decisions. Faced with a decision one will not be able to undo, prudence recommends slowness, whatever camp one belongs to.

This distinction shifts the disagreement onto more productive ground. Two people opposed on a reform can often agree on the necessity of a mechanism for going back, which is no small thing.

Once both positions are stated, it appears that they differ above all on an estimate: is the harm of inaction greater than the risk of error? That is a question of fact, applied to a precise case, and not a difference of temperament.

This explains why the same person may be conservative on one subject and reformist on another without contradicting themselves. What varies is not their taste for change, it is their assessment of the ongoing harm in each field.

Take an institution you judge imperfect but would not touch, and another you would reform quickly. Then ask yourself what distinguishes the two cases: the scale of the current harm, confidence in the proposed solution, or the possibility of going back.

The answer sketches your real criterion, which is almost always more nuanced than the label of conservative or reformer. It is that criterion, and not the label, that predicts your positions on subjects to come.