The Vulnerability of the Liberal Neutral State

When Reagan was elected president, Michael Sandel uttered a phrase that at the time seemed almost paradoxical: “The problem with tolerance is that it does not interpret itself. It is not enough to be neutral. Tolerance presupposes a vision of the common good.” It may seem like an abstract issue, but today, it is the crack through which the landslide of Western politics is passing. Everyone believes that the liberal state is strong precisely because it does not take a position on the lives of its citizens. But the truth—and here comes the twist—is that this neutrality is its greatest weakness. When the state merely says, “Let each person choose their own path; just respect the freedom of others,” it creates a void of meaning. Sooner or later, someone will fill that void and impose their own idea of the good, often in an aggressive fashion. Sandel's argument is that the liberal dream of living and letting live, without discussing core values, does not hold up. Instead, what is needed is a genuine, open confrontation over values: not to remove them from public debate, but to place them at its center. Michael Sandel is a professor at Harvard, the author of “Democracy’s Discontent,” and has spent the last forty years observing what happens when politics abandons the realm of grand ideals to take refuge in technical neutrality. In an interview with Nathan Gardels of Noema, Sandel recounts that as early as the 1980s, he saw the American left cede the language of community and identity to the right. Reagan, he says, won not only because of the free market, but because he knew how to evoke homeland, belonging, and national pride. Instead of putting forward their own strong vision of what it means to be a citizen, progressives began to distrust even patriotism, allowing the right to make it its banner. The result? A politics that speaks only of individual merit and success, with the well-known mantra: “If you want to succeed, study, work hard, and improve yourself.” But Sandel exposes the flaw: when 62% of Americans do not have a college degree, to say that only those who do deserve a decent job is like building a society where the majority already start out defeated. And so populist anger is born, the resentment of those who feel looked down upon by the “winners” of globalization. Sandel provides a concrete example: the Supreme Court’s decision in Roe v. Wade, the abortion case. The Court declared itself “neutral” on moral issues, but it still ended up taking a position. In short, neutrality is often just a mask that conceals moral choices made behind the scenes. On the other hand, when society genuinely engages in debate—such as on the issue of gay marriage—change does not arise from avoiding conflict, but from the direct involvement of families, churches, and friends. The turning point was not passive tolerance, but the “plurality of engagement,” that is, the courage to argue and to listen. But beware: Sandel's critique goes even deeper. The modern liberal model glorifies the individual as an “unencumbered self,” detached from any tradition. It appears to be freedom, but it turns into loneliness and political powerlessness. True freedom, Sandel argues, lies in participating in our collective destiny: in thinking together about what matters and what kind of society we want to be. And here comes the fact that derails the dinner conversation: in Congress, almost no one represents those without a college degree. Among the senators, only one. In the House of Representatives, less than 5%. This is a huge distortion: if it were based on race, it would be a scandal. Sandel even suggests creating popular assemblies selected by lot, where everyone—whether they have a college degree or not—has a real voice in decision-making. The blind spot we often fail to see is that neutrality does not mean fairness. A system of true democracy is not built by leaving values out, but by being open to discussions—even heated ones—about what the common good is. And there is another idea that challenges conventional wisdom: listening does not mean merely hearing the other person’s words, but seeking the deeper value behind their reasoning. Democracy, Sandel says, is above all the art of listening. But the perspective missing from the debate is this: What happens if, instead of seeking a shared vision of the good, we accept that values are indeed irreducible and let each community, city, or state decide for itself? Some thinkers propose “plural jurisdictions,” a kind of modern Middle Ages where there is no longer a true national community, but only archipelagos of different sets of rules. Sandel responds that the real challenge is not to give up before we have even tried: only by discussing together can we understand which issues are truly non-negotiable. And, in the end, democracy thrives precisely on this effort. The takeaway sentence is this: State neutrality is not a guarantee of freedom—it is an open door for the moral void it leaves behind to be filled, often aggressively. If you think this perspective has made you see the word “neutrality” in a different light, you can indicate it on Lara Notes with I'm In — it's not just an interest; it's a statement that this idea now matters to you. And if, in a few days, you find yourself telling this story to someone—perhaps asking, “Did you know that in Congress, almost no one represents people without a college degree?”—you can go back to Lara Notes and tag the person who was with you: it's called Shared Offline. This Note is taken from an interview published on NOEMA: you have saved almost 15 minutes compared to reading the full article.