Could it really be true that there is wisdom to be gleaned from conservatism?? I think I might as well hang my hat on its peg and wander off back to my muddy market town home and buy some wellies. But fear not open-mouthéd reader; firstly, I mean the general thought rather than the political party (we will not try to begin to contemplate its current embodiment in party-form hear, I am afraid a) the amount I would need to use CAPSLOCK would make it unreadable b) I am only the most débuting of political minded animals so I’d most likely get it wrong); and secondly I haven’t jumped on the blue jangly bandwagon just yet. BUT, ‘Conservative’ deriving of course from the Latin conservare
"to keep, preserve,” as opposed to its more common associations with
“unadventurous” or “traditional” this way of thinking (which for the instant we will personify as an ostrich with a man’s head and a judge’s wig and some very interesting aquamarine tail feathers, so that we may understand each other more clearly) seems to contain some quite marvelous insights (tailfeathers) in my opinion… Here’s what I mean:

Once upon a time there was a man called Mr Michael Oakeshott,
who smoked a pipe and was a very interesting man. (He did not invent the parachute: the picture signifies ideas) He said some rather clever
things about education and life in general a lot of which sounds like the wisdom that seems to settle on you like rather unwelcome but intriguing-looking pink algae as you get older. The sort of things you reluctantly(although perhaps with some small sigh of relief) realize as your perspective necessarily changes shape with the perpetual stretching out of life and time in both directions. I never ever thought I’d stoop to believe such things as I shall now quote (surely a reconciliation with routine and repetition concedes a barbarous defeat to the deadly saggy bellied foe of middle agedness?), but I have to admit that for the first time I am starting to think that slowing down, celebrating what is existent, and being quicker to spot the good than to suggest an alternative are surprisingly good changes to make to one’s approach to the world. Shocking! Here goes then:

'We are disposed to think that nothing important is happening unless great innovations are afoot, and that what is not being improved must be deteriorating...We readily presume that all change is, somehow, for the better, and we are easily persuaded that all the consequences of our innovating activity are either themselves improvements or at least a reasonable price to pay for getting what we want'

My inclination is always to see potential for change in each new situation. Perhaps this is not always a bad thing; it is after all a mode of existing only a second-cousin from hope and an auntie-thrice-removed (when will she get the hint?) from faith. But how often is this an arrogance of assuming I have something to offer before truly engaging with what is there? How often am I so swift to criticize that I neglect to listen to the voices of the ancient ‘conversation’ Oakeshott refers to, which has been going on for thousands ofyears before I appeared on the scene?

Conservatism in general as far as I can gather seems to spend too much time reacting and looking backwards to give space to the present
and future moment. But here is the question I want to invite you to chew on with me: How often are we so quick to desire to ‘make our mark’ that we don’t look to the value what is already being done first?