The Varieties of Postliberalism
A body of ideas with roots in academic theology and philosophy, postliberalism has emerged as an influential intellectual movement in the US and Europe. It gained a new kind of prominence with Donald Trump’s 2024 victory. Vice President JD Vance describes himself as part of the Catholic “postliberal right” and he is friends with two of its leading thinkers.1 One is Adrian Vermeule, whose work on common good constitutionalism invokes the controversial jurist Carl Schmitt, who joined the Nazi Party in 1933. The other is Patrick Deneen, author of the bestselling book Why Liberalism Failed (2018) and the successor tome Regime Change (2023).
In their recent book Why Postliberalism Failed (2026), James Patterson and Thomas Howes cast the Deneen-Vermeule version of postliberalism as an authoritarian threat to church-state separation and a quasi-fascist attack on the ideal of ordered liberty at the heart of America’s constitutional and civic republican tradition. Does Catholic postliberalism inevitably slide into fascism? Is this ideology now only one heartbeat away from the US presidency? Have European postliberals embraced the American version or forged their own vision?
After the Interregnum
Since the 2008–2009 financial crisis and the 2016 votes for Brexit and Trump, there has been a widespread sense that the dominance of liberalism has ended but that no new model has taken its place. This diagnosis recalls a famous passage from the Italian philosopher Antonio Gramsci’s Prison Notebooks: “The crisis consists precisely in the fact that the old is dying and the new cannot be born; in this interregnum a great variety of morbid symptoms appear.”
After the financial crash discredited neoliberal market fundamentalism, Gramsci’s line went global.2 Academics (I’m one of them), commentators, and politicians across the spectrum invoked the idea that we live in an interregnum.3 Liberalism is in retreat, but instead of a successor ideology that replaces liberal dominance altogether, morbid symptoms have come to pass. They include the authoritarian populism of the far left and the radical right, the transhumanism of figures such as Peter Thiel, or even nativist conceptions of identity that seek to legitimate the mass deportation of immigrants.
There is another reason why Gramsci is relevant to debates about liberalism and what might come next. In an interregnum there is a struggle for what he calls “hegemony,” which encompasses both political control by elites and cultural consent by the people. And in this struggle Gramsci distinguishes between a “war of movement” and a “war of position.” A war of movement marks a concentrated offensive aimed at seizing state power quickly, whereas a war of position represents a prolonged struggle to establish cultural domination before attempting power seizure.
Liberalism’s hegemony was the result of a war of position won against the defenders of the New Deal and the post-1945 consensus of a much more “embedded liberalism,” which was regulated by Keynesian economics of full employment and demand management, and underpinned by Christian-infused notions of solidarity and universal human rights.4 The neoliberal settlement that emerged from the Thatcher-Reagan revolution of the 1980s rested not only on the Hayekian economics of controlling inflation and enacting supply-side reforms, but also on a culture of emancipation and individualism.
While liberalism was hegemonic in the decades after the end of the Cold War, much of Western politics was a contest over modernization, with both the center-left and the center-right involved in a political struggle pitting figures like Bill Clinton, Tony Blair, Romano Prodi, Lionel Jospin, Gerhard Schröder, Barack Obama, and François Hollande against George W. Bush (and much of the Republican Party prior to Trump’s ascendancy), José María Aznar, Nicolas Sarkozy and, to a lesser extent, David Cameron and Angela Merkel. Yet both center-left and center-right converged on promoting personal autonomy, the market fundamentalism of deindustrialization and free trade as well as Western military interventions in Kosovo, Afghanistan, and Libya (the Iraq War was a source of transatlantic division, as France and Germany opposed the US- and UK-led invasion).
Now that the post-1989 consensus has collapsed, the clash of old and new ideologies amounts to a war of position, which for Gramsci is a contest over ideas, common sense, organization, and leadership. In the US, as in much of Europe, progressives and populists are engaged in a war of position over personal autonomy and security, free trade and protectionism, market fundamentalism and state intervention, foreign wars and military restraint, and the place of religion in public life.
Postliberals are often counted among the populists. But, as I will argue, not all of them are antiliberal. Postliberals can be divided into those who seek to save old liberal principles of generosity, tolerance, and civility by building a new cultural consensus and those with an antiliberal outlook who primarily seek power. The former are engaged in a war of position, whereas the latter fight a war of movement. The debate between US postliberals and their critics illuminates the often ill-understood phenomenon of postliberalism.
Why Postliberalism?
Under the banner of postliberalism, a number of European thinkers have made the case that liberalism is no longer the hegemonic or even dominant ideology. They include John Gray, John Milbank, and Jean-Claude Michéa and, more recently, David Goodhart, Maurice Glasman, Mary Harrington, Louise Perry, Marlène Laruelle, and me.5 Postliberals criticize liberalism for reducing justice to merely individual rights or collective utility, neglecting questions of shared purpose, virtue, and the public good. They question the Enlightenment project of universal progress based on liberal values of liberty, equality, and the pursuit of happiness alone.
But the fundamental question is what comes after liberalism. Whatever their differences, postliberals share four ideas. First, society as a web of covenantal relations rather than a formal social contract, as in the liberal tradition. Second, liberty as freedom to associate with others around shared ends instead of merely negative liberty—the liberal conception of freedom as absence of constraints on individual choice, bounded only by law and private conscience. Third, the pursuit of personal fulfillment combined with mutual flourishing rather than purely individual happiness or collective utility. Fourth, reciprocal duties that balance individual rights, rather than rights as private entitlements.
In the US, Vance’s friends Deneen and Vermeule are particularly influential. In Why Liberalism Failed, Deneen argues that the triumph of liberalism ends up undermining liberal values such as freedom, equality, tolerance, and pluralism. This self-erosion reflects liberalism’s inner logic:
Liberalism has failed—not because it fell short, but because it was true to itself. It has failed because it has succeeded.… A political philosophy that was launched to foster greater equity, defend a pluralist tapestry of different cultures and beliefs, protect human dignity, and, of course, expand liberty, in practice generates titanic inequality, enforces uniformity and homogeneity, fosters material and spiritual degradation, and undermines freedom.
For Deneen, contemporary liberalism is indefensible because it has produced economic inequality, social fragmentation, cultural instability, and the concentration of power among wealthy progressive elites. For this reason, he advocates “regime change,” the title of his second postliberal book. He proposes replacing the liberal establishment with a “common-good conservatism” that combines a new aristocracy with populist elements (“Aristopopulism”).
In practice, this would amount to a political realignment of working-class voters with public-spirited leaders. Such a new elite would use state power to strengthen families, local communities, and domestic industries instead of privileging individual autonomy and global markets. Its methods, in Deneen’s phrase, are “Machiavellian means to achieve Aristotelian ends”: political power and popular pressure deployed to foster religious traditions and social stability in order to bring about a society oriented towards civic virtue. This vision aims at restraining global neoliberalism, liberal individualism, and progressivist identity politics.
Like Deneen, Vermeule rejects liberalism for prioritizing the autonomous individual, value neutrality, and procedural rights. His book Common Good Constitutionalism (2022) argues that both liberal-progressive and originalist interpretations of the Constitution neglect substantive moral ends. Drawing on classical legal theory, natural law, and Catholic social teaching, he holds that the US government has an absolute duty to promote the conditions for a virtuous society based on moral principles such as public order, solidarity, and human flourishing. This requires a strong executive branch, empowered to achieve those ends.
Is American Catholic Postliberalism Fascist?
In response to Deneen and Vermeule’s work, James Patterson and Thomas Howes claim that postliberalism has already been tried—in Franco’s Spain, Salazar’s Portugal, Tiso’s Slovakia, and Vichy France—and each time failed. Their wide-ranging critique traces the origins of US postliberalism to ideas in Catholic theology called “integralist” because they question the separation of Church and state, as well as to thinkers who were proponents of fascism, state corporatism, and even Nazism, such as Carl Schmitt, whom Vermeule cites approvingly. For Patterson and Howes, American postliberals legitimate authoritarianism and even fascism, and those who embrace their ideas, like Vance, defend an ideology that is at least in part fascist.
Patterson and Howes argue that US Catholic postliberalism rests on integralism, which rejects the separation of Church and state. On their account, integralism emerged from the work of late eighteenth- to twentieth-century reactionary thinkers whose ideas gave rise to fascism and even Nazism, including Joseph de Maistre, Louis de Bonald, Louis Veuillot, Louis Billot, Charles Maurras, and Carl Schmitt. For them, behind Vermeule’s and Deneen’s critiques of liberalism lurks a prior commitment to integralist theology: “Postliberalism, then, begins with Catholic integralism, and the revival of Catholic integralism predates Why Liberalism Failed by several years.”
Furthermore, according to Patterson and Howes, when postliberals such as Deneen write about “Machiavellian means to achieve Aristotelian ends,” what they really mean is statist means to theocratic ends—a clerical-fascist break with America’s constitutional and republican tradition. They conclude that “postliberalism is not just illiberal but anti-American. Indeed, the anti-Americanism seems to precede the illiberalism.”
Never mind that Deneen and Vermeule view the sovereignty of the American nation-state as supreme. Their position hardly amounts to a fascist-style one-party dictatorship that promotes atavistic ethno-nationalism. While their rejection of liberalism overlaps with themes in fascist critiques of the liberal order such as destructive individualism or the importance of national community, they draw heavily on classical and Christian sources—Aristotle, Ciceronian republicanism, Aquinas, and Tocqueville—that are incompatible with the absolutist logic of fascism.
Fascism, like other totalitarian systems, represents a modern phenomenon which posits pure, unmediated political power grounded in the absolute self-assertion of human will. By contrast—and notwithstanding the influence of Schmitt—the classical and Christian thinkers that inform the work of Deneen and Vermeule see power as having transcendent foundations and ends, which limit human volition and direct it to the pursuit of mutual flourishing.
The integralism defended by Deneen, Vermeule, and other Catholic postliberals such as the Cistercian monk Edmund Waldstein and Gladden Pappin is nothing like theocracy or fascism. Rather, their integralist vision ends up subordinating the Church to the state, whose exercise of secular power remains unchanged by theological and philosophical truths. The work of American Catholic postliberals may be antiliberal, but that does not make it theocratic or fascist.
What Liberalism Is
Patterson and Howes’s reading matters less for the detail of the intellectual history they narrate than for the debate about American Catholic postliberalism, its varieties, and its critics. Their interpretation raises five key issues. First, they accuse Catholic postliberals of defining liberalism too expansively, presenting it as a unified political philosophy when, in reality, liberal thinkers disagreed as much with each other as with their opponents: “The figures he lists disagree with each other on several issues he presents as unified liberalism, such as how Mill discards Locke and Madison’s affirmation of natural right. For Deneen’s view to hold requires prioritizing similarities over differences, but Deneen never explains why the reader should do that.”
Yet contemporary defenders of liberalism such as Larry Siedentop, Helena Rosenblatt, Edmund Fawcett, and Francis Fukuyama posit some core of liberalism that distinguishes it from conservatism and socialism, usually focused on individual freedom and emancipation from absolutist rule.6 It is just as important to point out differences among liberal figures as it is to recognize liberalism’s family resemblances—not a single essence, but significant conceptual overlaps, notably the primacy of the individual over groups, communities, and associations.7
Second, the charge of overgeneralization ignores a key point made by postliberals: no single thinker expresses the liberal logic in full, even though there are such thinkers and strands that exemplify this logic and gave it political influence, such as Grotius, Hobbes, Locke, Rousseau, Kant, Adam Smith, Bentham, J.S. Mill and, more recently, John Rawls.
What no single thinker fully articulated, Enlightenment modernity has increasingly instituted in practice. “Really existing” liberalism—as opposed to liberal philosophy—combines the freely choosing, isolated individual as the primary social unit with the sovereign power of the central state and the free market. This is why postliberals have argued that liberal hegemony was achieved at precisely the point in history when the social and cultural liberalism of the 1960s fused with the economic liberalism of the 1980s, as the French philosopher Jean-Claude Michéa—a key influence on postliberalism—has shown.8
Postliberalism Is Not Necessarily Antiliberal
Third, Patterson and Howes are guilty of the very overgeneralization they attribute to postliberal interpretations of liberalism. Their definition of postliberalism is so extensive as to encompass illiberal, antiliberal, authoritarian, and fascist positions, as well as non-liberal ideas. On their account, postliberalism includes “the work of anti-liberal papacies of the nineteenth century,” “a kind of illiberalism that heavily relied on conspiracy theories to defend Catholic monarchies,” “clerical fascist movements,” as well as actual corporatist and authoritarian regimes across the globe. In effect, any deviation from liberalism is viewed as necessarily postliberal, bound to slide into integralism and fascism. Underpinning this is the assumption that liberal philosophy is the sole standard against which all other political philosophies and ideologies must be judged.
But this ignores two closely connected realities. The first is that, until very recently, liberal ideas and institutions were embedded in non-liberal traditions. Liberalism did not work on its own terms, but because it was embedded in older networks of associated corporate bodies and in substantive ethical cultures, ultimately grounded in a religious inheritance, as Samuel Moyn has shown in relation to human rights.9
Moreover, the New Deal in the US and the postwar settlements in Europe were not simply a reassertion of pure liberal democracy. They rested on explicit covenants between government, business, trade unions, and cultural bodies at both national and international levels. These arrangements were themselves infused with Christian ideas and practices, such as the dignity of the person, solidarity, subsidiarity, and the common good. If this admirable consensus collapsed in the 1970s and 1980s, it was because elites did not remain sufficiently aware of its democratic-corporatist character, which drew on both ethical socialist and Christian democratic ideas—the very ideas that American Catholic postliberals, including Sohrab Ahmari, seek to renew.
Non-Liberal Alternatives to Liberalism
The other reality is that non-liberal traditions are not synonymous with illiberal or antiliberal ideologies. As the American historian and political economist Michael Lind—another key influence on postliberalism—has argued, many champions and critics of liberalism mistake it for a foundational social order, instead of a transition between different kinds of long-lasting non-liberal models. These include regimes that are illiberal, even antiliberal, characterized by corrupt oligarchies at the top and an atomized population below—as in parts of Latin America recently, such as Venezuela—though they don’t necessarily slide into fascism and totalitarianism.
But non-liberal models also encompass ethical socialism, Catholic distributism, and democratic pluralism, which are emphatically not antiliberal in the sense of “annihilating individual liberty, economic opportunity, and freedom of conscience,” as Patterson and Howes have it. For example, the pluralist tradition rejects the liberal theory of the state as a unitary sovereign ruling over individuals in favor of a conception of the polity as a “community of communities,” in the words of J.N. Figgis; a nested union of interlocking corporate bodies self-governing by locations, industries, and occupations.
On this account, one problem with contemporary liberalism is that it has weakened the institutions that were infused by Christian ideas. As a result, liberalism remains procedurally democratic and pluralist even as its substance is being hollowed out. Once liberalism became disembedded, it began to unravel. In both the economic and the cultural realm, it turned out that individualism cannot of itself generate a substantive order, as Hobbes first supposed and the dominant forms of liberalism have continued to assume.
Far from being purely theoretical, this mutation of liberalism matters for politics today. Instead of producing stability, the clash of individual interests leads to ever more inequality and alienation, and the control of populations by oligarchic and technocratic elites—today’s big finance, big tech, and their supporters in politics and the bureaucracy. Because postliberal critiques of liberalism by American Catholics such as Ahmari or Michael Hanby target these failures of liberalism, they cannot be dismissed as purely reactionary in the way Patterson and Howes assert.
Theocracy or Caesaropapism?
The fourth objection to Patterson and Howes concerns their failure to understand “really existing” postliberalism in the US. The conditions in which Vance could prepare the ground for an American theocracy simply do not exist. The Trump administration has not submitted to a supposed papal diktat. When Pope Leo XIV opposed the Iran war, the administration tried to discredit the pontiff’s judgments on geopolitics—even questioning his theology.
“I think it’s very, very important for the pope to be careful when he talks about matters of theology,” Vance said on April 14, 2026 at a Turning Point USA event in Athens, Georgia.10 His stance resembles the caesaropapist elevation of secular state authority over the Church’s spiritual authority, not the theocratic subordination of the former to the latter. It is the opposite of the theocracy Patterson and Howes warn against, and closer to what some of their own case studies show: regimes that used the Church for legitimacy while bending it to the state.
Fifth, they accuse American Catholic postliberals of being anti-American when Vermeule, Deneen, and other integralists ultimately view the American state as supremely sovereign. It is true that Catholic integralists reject liberalism for freeing the sovereign individual from traditional bonds such as family, community, and Church. Yet their brand of integralism also promotes central state sovereignty both against the neoliberal system of global governance abroad and against liberal elites at home.
For all their stated opposition to liberalism, their position on the sovereign state is curiously liberal. Not only are absolutely sovereign states a modern ideal first theorized by Jean Bodin and Thomas Hobbes who is a precursor of liberalism. What is more, absolute state sovereignty is incompatible with the Catholic tradition that views state power as limited. The sovereign state, coupled with strong administrative agencies favored by Vermeule, risks undermining democratically self-governing intermediary institutions such as civic organizations, associations, local businesses, guilds, schools, universities, trade unions, places of worship, and local government that are at the heart of Catholic social thought. For Vermeule who draws on Carl Schmitt for his account of state sovereignty, the state is sovereign precisely because unconstrained executive power can declare a state of emergency beyond liberal checks and balances as well as ancient and Christian notions of mixed constitution.
Moreover, the sovereign power of the nation-state overrides the universal authority of the Catholic Church, creating a tension between the national and the international that is only resolved by asserting the supreme dominion of the executive branch concentrated in the single figure of the president. “Really existing” integralism ends up championing caesaropapism in the name of American greatness.
Varieties of Postliberalism
Here the varieties of postliberalism Patterson and Howes fail to acknowledge come clearly into view. Integralists aligned with the administration side with the American executive against the pope, while Catholic pluralists such as Ahmari or Hanby defend him. The pluralists invoke the authority of the Church not only on matters of theology but also politics—whether the just war tradition, which prohibits preemptive attacks such as the US war on Iran, or Catholic Social Thought as a framework for promoting greater economic democracy focused on the dignity of labor and worker self-organization.
Indeed, integralists are often silent on the power of tech and plutocrats like Elon Musk and Peter Thiel, whose defense of transhumanism is incompatible with the teaching of the Church, as expressed most recently in Pope Leo XIV’s social encyclical Magnifica Humanitas with its warnings against concentrated technological power. The social doctrine of this encyclical is also found in Pope Leo XIII’s encyclical Rerum Novarum of 1891—a doctrine that underpins the Catholic universalism championed by Ahmari, Hanby and other Catholic postliberals.
Together with British and European postliberals, America’s Catholic pluralists have helped develop postliberalism as a positive philosophy and constructive alternative to both liberalism and populism. As John Milbank and I argue in The Politics of Virtue (2016), this strand of postliberal thinking is emphatically not antiliberal as it does not oppose freedom, rights, democracy, or the rule of law. On the contrary, it makes two points. One is that these principles have their origins in older non-liberal traditions, notably Greco-Roman philosophy and biblical revelation, which grounded them in the dignity of the person. The other is that they require non-liberal ideas and practices such as the common good for their continuous application in liberal democracies. In other words, a purer liberalism, shorn of its deeper cultural, ethical and religious sources, cannot sustain the principles it purports to uphold.
One mark of the pluralist strand of postliberalism is that it is personalist, as I have argued elsewhere. It begins with the recognition that humans are political and indeed social animals, embodied beings and embedded in relationships and institutions. We are irreducibly relational, born into relationships of mutual dependence with our families, communities, and nations. We are born into particular places and into what Pope Francis evocatively called “our common home.”
Our natural relationality is not recognized by much of liberalism, which insists that we are essentially isolated individuals contracting with one another and with the state in order to move from a natural condition of war and anarchy to a condition of artificial order and absence of conflict—the social contract and Immanuel Kant’s promise of perpetual peace.
Where much of liberalism focuses on the social contract, personalist postliberalism shifts the emphasis to covenant: relations among neighbors and citizens, between the generations and with the natural world. Where much of liberalism insists on individual subjective rights, personalist postliberalism favors objective duties: duty of care for relatives, neighbors, fellow citizens, the most vulnerable in society, the persecuted. A duty of care for work and workers, and for nature.
Where much of liberalism stresses negative liberty, free choice, and personal autonomy, personalist postliberalism emphasizes positive freedom—freedom for human association around shared ends—along with virtues such as loyalty and the human need for security. And where certain strands of liberalism are about a crude cold calculation of utility, personalist postliberalism prefers the plural search for the good life and the common good.
Personalist postliberalism recognizes the inherent plurality of the common good and the good life as different communities understand and govern different goods according to different practices. This requires neither total agreement on a single comprehensive vision of the good life nor a relativism that renders all substantive notions of the common good meaningless. Rather, it combines the reality that human life in society is relational, dependent, and sustained by substantive goods with the recognition that these goods and ideas of the good life are always subject to discernment and debate in ways that are compatible with pluralist democracies.
Far from being imposed by the state or the church or any one authority, the common good is the good of all, such as that each person can fulfill their talent and vocation and all can flourish together. Pope Benedict XVI defines the common good as “the good of ‘all of us’, made up of individuals, families and intermediate groups who together constitute society. It is a good that is sought not for its own sake, but for the people who belong to the social community and who can only really and effectively pursue their good within it.”
The common good is not an aggregate—the sum total of individual happinesses, as the utilitarians would have it. It is instead concerned with the truest goods that we share together as human beings and members of society: work, family, community, but also health, education, and housing. Liberal principles, as important as they are, need to be embedded in social relations and civic institutions, and infused with a deeper, more personalist, more communal understanding of what binds society together and what makes us human—as set out in Magnifica Humanitas.
The War of Position
Liberalism is no longer the hegemonic or even dominant framework it was after 1989, but so far postliberalism has not become the successor ideology. What we face instead are wars of position between progressives and populists, as well as between Catholic integralists and pluralists within postliberalism.
Integralists are primarily interested in seizing political power for the populist right. They will back Vance or another candidate against the teachings of the Church and against the Pope. By contrast, pluralists are focused on the intellectual foundations of economic and cultural transformation, creating the conditions for a postliberal politics on the left or the right—renewing the consensus shared by ethical socialists and Christian Democrats.
This war of position transcends postliberalism and even the liberal-populist binary. It raises the tantalizing prospect of a contest between impersonal techno-scientific or ethno-nationalist particularisms and a universalism that is personalist and pluralist. The defense of the human person is once more the pivot in politics.
- https://www.youtube.com/watch?t=2943&v=2ZbsiKEhy-8&feature=youtu.be ↩︎
- https://www.theguardian.com/world/2026/feb/14/the-time-of-monsters-everyone-is-quoting-gramsci-but-what-did-he-actually-say ↩︎
- In 2021 I wrote a book entitled Postliberal Politics: The Coming Era of Renewal (Cambridge: Polity)in which I argued that post-liberalism could resolve the interregnum. ↩︎
- John Gerald Ruggie, ‘International regimes, transactions, and change: embedded liberalism in the postwar economic order,’ in Stephen D. Krasner (ed.), International Regimes (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1983), pp. 195-223; Samuel Moyn, Christian Human Rights (Philadelphia, PA: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2015). ↩︎
- John Gray, Postliberalism: Studies in Political Thought (London: Routledge, 1993); John Milbank, Theology and Social Theory: Beyond Secular Reason, 2nd ed. (Oxford: Blackwell, 2005); Jean-Claude Michéa, L’Empire du moindre mal: essai sur la civilisation libérale (Paris: Climats, 2007); trans. The Realm of Lesser Evil: An Essay on Liberal Civilisation, trans. David Fernbach (Cambridge: Polity, 2009); David Goodhart, The Road to Somewhere: The New Tribes Shaping British Politics (London: Penguin, 2017); Maurice Glasman, Blue Labour: The Politics of the Common Good (Cambridge: Polity, 2022); Louise Perry, The Case Against the Sexual Revolution: A New Guide to Sex in the 21st Century (Cambridge: Polity, 2022); Mary Harrington, Feminism against progress (London: Forum, 2024); Marlène Laruelle, ‘What If Post-Liberalism Were on the Left?,’. 10 July 2026, https://post-liberalism.org/p/what-if-postliberalism-were-on-the ; John Milbank and Adrian Pabst, The Politics of Virtue: Postliberalism and the Human Future (London: Rowman & Littlefield International, 2016). ↩︎
- Larry Siedentop, Inventing the Individual: The Origins of Western Liberalism (London: Penguin, 2014); Helena Rosenblatt, The Lost History of Liberalism: From Ancient Rome to the Twenty-First Century (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2018); Edmund Fawcett, Liberalism: The Life of an Idea (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2014); Francis Fukuyama, Liberalism and Its Discontents (London: Profile Books, 2022). ↩︎
- Duncan Bell, ‘What is liberalism?,’ Political Theory, 42(6), pp. 682-715, https://doi.org/10.1177/0090591714535103; John Milbank and Adrian Pabst, The Politics of Virtue: Postliberalism and the Human Future (London: Rowman & Littlefield International, 2016), pp. 13-67. ↩︎
- Jean-Claude Michéa, L’Empire du moindre mal: essai sur la civilisation libérale (Paris: Climats, 2007); trans. The Realm of Lesser Evil: An Essay on Liberal Civilisation, tr. David Fernbach (Cambridge: Polity, 2009). ↩︎
- Samuel Moyn, Christian Human Rights (Philadelphia, PA: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2015); John Milbank, ‘The Last Christian Settlement: A Defence and Critique, in Debate with Samuel Moyn,’ in Sarah Shortall and Daniel Steinmetz-Jenkins (eds.), Christianity and Human Rights Reconsidered (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2020), pp. 19-39. ↩︎
- https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/trump-administration/vance-warns-pope-careful-talking-theology-rcna331881 ↩︎
