Moynihan's legacy

Public Interest, Wntr, 2001 by Jeffrey O'Connell, Richard F. Bland

As the new century begins, the career of the man whom the Almanac of American Politics calls "the nation's best thinker among politicians since Lincoln and its best politician among thinkers since Jefferson" comes to a close. Retiring in 2001 from a coveted Senate seat, Daniel Patrick Moynihan and his career were at least temporarily overshadowed by the race to be his successor. Perhaps in an anticipatory move to stem such a tide of attention, Johns Hopkins University Press has published Daniel Patrick Moynihan: The Intellectual in Public Life, [ ] a probing, while highly celebratory, compilation of essays about Moynihan from authors in fields as diverse as Moynihan's accomplishments. (This book has been strangely overlooked by reviewers, especially in contrast to the widespread and immediate attention devoted to a later Moynihan biography by Godfrey Hodgson.) The 12 authors range from former Senator Bill Bradley writing on what it's like to serve with Moynihan, to Nathan Glazer on Moynihan's contribution to the concept of ethnicity, to NBC's Tim Russert on Moynihan's "wit and wisdom" as seen through his 25 appearances on "Meet the Press." The compilation not only catalogues Moynihan's accomplishments but also explores what it is about Moynihan that has enabled him to be on the vanguard of so many modern issues, and examines why, in a time of bitter partisanship, Moynihan is arguably the most widely respected Senator on both sides of the aisle.

A consistent theme throughout Moynihan's career has been his singular ability to reframe the debate on a given public-policy problem by relying on data, not ideology, and to do it all with such wry wit and eloquent wisdom that it cannot escape one's attention. This unique skill, however, has proven to be not only his greatest asset but also his biggest encumbrance. A social scientist's strict reliance on data over a 50-year career means that Moynihan's party allegiance to a new proposal, or his role as policy maker (not just policy critic), frequently gives way to a principled, if often frustrating, insistence on relying only on what is known about solving a problem, and more importantly, acknowledging what remains unknown.

Moynihan himself summed up his approach in a July 1993 letter on his misgivings about President Clinton's early welfare proposals. The letter could well have described Moynihan's differences with Clinton over any number of issues (most particularly health care) as well as differences with other politicians throughout his career:

In the last six months I have been repeatedly impressed by the number of members of the Clinton administration who have assured me with great vigor that something or other is known in an area of social policy which, to the best of my understanding, is not known at all. This seems to me perilous. It is quite possible to live with uncertainty, with the possibility, even the likelihood that one is wrong. But beware of certainty where none exists. Ideological certainty easily degenerates into insistence upon ignorance.

The great strength of political conservatives at this time (and for a generation) is that they are open to the thought that matters are complex. Liberals have got into a reflexive pattern of denying this. I had hoped that twelve years of denying this [during Re publican presidencies] might have changed this; it may be it has only reinforced it. If this is so, current revival of liberalism will be brief and inconsequential.

Being celebratory, the Festschrift volume is in no way an objective critique of Moynihan's work. The book's value lies instead in its description of the breadth of Moynihan's career, the successful predictions he has made in so many areas of policy, and the legacy he will leave behind.

Largely overlooked by the essays are Moynihan's critics. From the Left, there has been the refrain that Moynihan's chosen role as strict adherent to data and principle and somewhat pessimistic approach to social policy have been a cover for laziness in actual legislating. As Hanna Rosin in New York magazine put it, adhering to "principles ... [got] him and New York nowhere." From the Right, critics argue that Moynihan, once viewed as a neoconservative, only gives the "appearance of independence, then retreat[s] to the party." He has thus traded conservative "principle after principle for a cozy life in an unthreatened seat" from a largely liberal state. Who is right? Moynihan somehow manages to offend both political extremes, while nevertheless retaining the respect of his peers and the electorate.

Renaissance man

The intellectual in public life, common at the founding of the American Republic, is much rarer today. In the Festschrift's introduction, editor Robert Katzmann explains this absence of the scholar-politician as a result of what Richard Hofstadter termed the modern intellectual's struggle between "alienation and conformity." Katzmann writes:

On the one hand, ... [intellectuals] seek acceptance of their ideas; on the other hand, they believe that fierce critical detachment, indeed alienation, is necessary for the exercise of their creative juices. For the intellectual in politics, life is lived on a slippery tightrope, on which balance is difficult to maintain for very long.