Noah Smith argues that the era of technocratic policy is dead, replaced by a dangerous ideological vacuum that only a revived "liberal nationalism" can fill. This is not a standard plea for unity; it is a stark diagnosis of why the current political landscape—driven by either nativist rage or rootless globalism—is failing to provide the social cohesion necessary for a functioning democracy.
The Death of Technocracy
Smith begins by reflecting on his own career shift, noting that the old model of advising policymakers on cost-benefit analysis no longer works. "Since 2016, however, technocracy has felt less and less important, and policymaking has felt more ideological," he observes. He contends that the current administration's approach has discarded the public good in favor of "the whims of an aging egomaniac and his personality cult," while the opposition has retreated into an equally rigid ideological stance. The result is a political environment where the fundamental question is no longer "what works," but "what kind of country do we want to be?"
This framing is crucial because it forces readers to confront the reality that policy cannot be separated from identity. Smith suggests that to be heard today, experts must abandon pure neutrality. "In order to get anyone to listen to my advice, I have to be a bit less technocratic and a bit more ideological," he writes. This is a bold admission from a self-described econ type, acknowledging that data alone cannot bridge the chasm of distrust that now defines American politics.
The Debate on Loyalty
To illustrate the current crisis of identity, Smith dissects a heated exchange between two prominent figures: the pseudonymous "Roman Helmet Guy" (RHG), a nationalist, and Balaji Srinivasan, a libertarian technocrat who has moved to Singapore. The debate reveals the two extremes that are currently tearing the country apart. RHG argues for a loyalty based on people, not just ideals, accusing Srinivasan of abandoning the nation when things get tough. "I am not loyal to a set of values. I am loyal to the American people," RHG insists, demanding that those who benefited from the country's stability show gratitude and stay to pay their taxes.
Srinivasan, conversely, argues that in a polarized nation, loyalty to "the American people" is impossible, claiming "there is unfortunately no America any more, only Blue America and Red America." He posits that the internet and global markets better reflect American founding ideals than the fractured domestic reality. Smith critiques both sides. He agrees with Srinivasan that emigration is not treason, noting that "being a refugee is not a form of ingratitude." However, he also validates RHG's core point that social change requires "voice, not just exit." If the wealthy and educated simply flee at the first sign of trouble, the tax base erodes, and public goods like defense and infrastructure collapse.
Social change requires voice, not just exit; making change requires that someone stay and fight the system, and if people keep running away they eventually run out of places to escape to.
Smith points out the hypocrisy in RHG's position. While RHG claims to love "all Americans," his rhetoric often excludes immigrants and minorities, creating a definition of American-ness that is arbitrary and divisive. "Every time rightists try to put forward a new concept like 'Heritage American', it falls flat, because the dividing lines are so arbitrary and contested," Smith notes. This echoes the historical failures of exclusionary policies, such as the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II, where loyalty was wrongly equated with ethnicity rather than citizenship. Smith argues that Americans overwhelmingly reject these racialized tests, preferring a civic nationalism based on the Constitution and the law.
The Case for Liberal Nationalism
The piece culminates in Smith's proposal: a return to the "liberal nationalism" of the 20th century, exemplified by the leadership of Franklin D. Roosevelt. This ideology, he argues, successfully forged a single national identity from a dizzying array of backgrounds without erasing diversity. It was an era where the government actively worked to bind disparate groups into a unified whole, creating a shared sense of destiny.
Smith warns that without this binding agent, the country faces a slow-motion collapse. "Just saying 'America has no culture except for multiculturalism' doesn't cut it, because if Americans have nothing to bind them together in a sense of shared destiny and shared interests, the country will literally fall apart," he writes. He draws a parallel to the Indian Reorganization Act, where attempts to redefine tribal identity and governance had profound, often unintended consequences on community cohesion. Similarly, today's attempts to redefine American identity through either exclusion or globalism are failing to provide the necessary glue.
The argument is that a diverse nation requires a strong, unifying narrative to function. Without it, public goods become impossible to fund or build. "It's hard to build a road if you think a lot of the benefit will go toward groups of people you don't like," Smith explains. This is the practical, economic cost of social fragmentation. A counterargument worth considering is whether a single national identity can truly exist in a country as large and diverse as the United States without suppressing legitimate cultural differences. Smith acknowledges this tension but insists that the alternative—ethnic bloc politics—is "poison for democracies."
Bottom Line
Smith's strongest move is reframing the debate from policy mechanics to the fundamental social contract, arguing that a nation cannot function without a shared sense of belonging. However, the biggest vulnerability in his argument is the assumption that the "liberal nationalism" of the past can be easily resurrected in a polarized, digital age where the very concept of a shared reality is under attack. The path forward requires more than just a return to 1930s rhetoric; it demands a new, inclusive vision that can withstand the pressures of modern identity politics.