Sam Francis: Pathologist of the Regime

Sam Francis was a visionary. His work offers the New Right something deeper than vibes, slogans, or partisan tropes: a theory of elites, a critique of conservatism, a defense of ethnocultural heritage, and realism about power.

Sam Francis: Pathologist of the Regime
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On good authority we are told that a prophet is without honor in his hometown. Such is the curse of the visionary. Samuel Todd Francis was such a visionary, perhaps the most prescient writer produced by the conservative movement in the last quarter of the 20th century. 

Francis was blessed with the gifts of foresight and vision at the scale of decades. While most mere mortals strive to predict events a few months into the future, Francis’s decades-old essays prophesied much of what was to come.

Most newspaper and magazine articles are musty and forgotten within weeks of their appearance. Is anyone reading the thirty-year-old columns of Norman Podhoretz, William F. Buckley, or Martin Peretz? Does anyone care what David French or George Will wrote last week? 

But periodically since his untimely and unexpected death twenty years ago, articles about Francis regularly appear in journals of high opinion, taking the form of either grudging appreciation or ritual denunciation. The passing years have only proven the accuracy of his insights.

Despite being reared as a Southern Presbyterian and converting to Catholicism as he lay dying, Francis was occasionally critical of religious conservatives and wrote as a materialist and modernist. Yet I would contend that the New Christian Right and Post-Liberals have much to learn from Francis.

First, Francis’s core idea is that America is ruled not by "the people" but by a managerial elite—bureaucrats, technocrats, media, and corporate managers. Christian Nationalists, concerned about an anti-Christian ruling class, can find in Francis’s framework a way to understand why and how the levers of power are stacked against traditional institutions like church and family.

Second, paleoconservatives like Francis, Pat Buchanan, Tom Fleming and others demonstrated that establishment conservatism (think National Review) sold out cultural, religious, and demographic issues in favor of foreign policy priorities or tax cuts for corporations. This critique helps Christian nationalists see why “fusionism,” the unholy union of libertarian economists, foreign policy hawks, and token social conservatives never conserved anything.

Third, unlike many conservatives who think "neutral principles" or "market forces" will protect them, Francis stressed that power is always contested and that elites impose their worldview through institutions. The Republic is dead and constitutionalism is a chimera. For Christians seeking to reassert public influence, it is a sobering but necessary lesson that moral and ideological appeals alone will not suffice without institutional strategy and the imposition of power.

He also emphasized that politics is downstream of culture, law and demographics, not just economic policy; and that a nation is not merely an idea or set of mystical propositions, but a concrete people with shared traditions and public liturgies, partaking in the same faith, descended from a common lineage, and shaped by the crucible of a shared history. That lines up closely with Christian nationalist concerns about family, heritage, and rootedness.

In short, Francis (and other paleocons) offer tools—a theory of elites, a critique of mainstream conservatism, a defense of cultural and ethnic rootedness, and a realism about power—that Christian nationalists can use to ground their movement in something deeper than vibes, slogans, or partisan talking points.

Many right-leaning writers and thinkers underwent a transformation in the years following Obergefell, the Great Awokening, and Donald Trump’s 2016 victory, remaking themselves in the image of a “new” nationalist and populist right while quite inadvertently parroting Francis’ ideas from the early 1990s. Despite his relative obscurity, Francis casts a long shadow over the American right, even though most do not realize they are standing in it.  Many young nationalists and populists who know little about Francis or his cobelligerents in the paleoconservative movement nevertheless owe their politics to them.

The Franciscan Method

Most post-WWII conservative intellectuals and theorists focused on what ideas should be adopted in society. Grounded in the classical tradition of political philosophy, their approach to political theory was normative and formalistic, offering morally right and philosophically “true” prescriptions to public matters.  They thus focused on philosophy, theology, ethics and even imaginative literature.  The method can be summed up in the famous phrase of Old Rightist Richard Weaver, “Ideas Have Consequences.” 

But such an analysis ignores the crucial question: what and who decides which ideas get adopted to produce those consequences? As Francis put it: “Ideas do have consequences, but some ideas have more consequences than others, and which consequences ensue from which ideas is settled not simply because the ideas serve human reason through their logical implications but also because some ideas serve human interests and emotions through their attachment to drives for political, economic, and social power, while other ideas do not.”

Francis spoke from a different tradition grounded in history and hard-boiled realism, a philosophy pioneered by Machiavelli, developed further by twentieth-century political theorists Vilfredo Pareto, Robert Michels and Gaetano Mosca and further integrated into modern conservatism via James Burnham, a former Trotskyite, about whose political thought Francis wrote two volumes and numerous essays. Unlike many traditionalist conservatives who base their arguments on natural law or divine revelation, Francis employed a methodical analysis rooted in empirical observation. This approach set him apart from his contemporaries and allowed him to critique political developments with a unique perspective.

Which ideas gain preeminence is not a matter of reason or moral principle but a question of whose interest will be served in the drive for political power.  Ideas are weapons and the fundamental question is the one posed by Vladimir Lenin, “Who? Whom?” :“I place more emphasis on the concrete forces of elites, organization, and psychic and social forces such as class and regional and ethnic identity than on formal intellectual abstractions and their logical extrapolations as the determining forces of history,” wrote Francis.

Samuel Francis’ reformulation of James Burnham’s theory of the managerial revolution, explicated at length in his posthumously published Leviathan and Its Enemies, represented a significant reinterpretation of the dynamics of power in modern societies. Burnham’s original formulation, presented in his 1941 work The Managerial Revolution, posited that a fundamental transformation was taking place in capitalist societies. The traditional capitalist class, the owners of capital, was being replaced by a new managerial elite, which controlled both the economy and the political system. Francis, writing more than fifty years later, engaged with Burnham’s ideas but expanded and altered them in light of the changes in both the American and global political landscape.

To understand Samuel Francis' reformulation, it is necessary to first grasp Burnham’s original theory and then look at how Francis adjusted it to reflect the evolution of political, social, and economic conditions in the late 20th century.

Burnham's Theory of the Managerial Revolution

James Burnham’s The Managerial Revolution introduced the concept of a managerial class that would replace the capitalist class in modern industrial societies. Burnham  argued that 20th-century capitalism had not produced a proletarian uprising, but instead had seen the rise of a new ruling class composed of bureaucrats, technocrats, and corporate executives who operated large institutions. According to Burnham, traditional capitalists, the owners of the means of production, would gradually be replaced by a new class of technocrats and administrators who took control of economic institutions. This shift represented a new form of governance and control, where the managerial class would no longer act merely as a mediator between capital and labor but would actively shape the functioning of both.

Burnham argued that the traditional capitalist system was breaking down due to the increasing complexity of modern economies, particularly in terms of industrial production and large-scale bureaucratic management. As businesses become larger and more disbursed as a result of economies of scale, the task of directing and coordinating production becomes the fundamental task of economic production.

The rise of massive corporations, multinational enterprises, and state-controlled industries meant that the role of the owner was becoming more symbolic than real. Rather than making day-to-day decisions, owners increasingly delegated authority to managers and administrators who had the technical expertise necessary to run large organizations.

This shift in the locus of power, according to Burnham, would lead to the emergence of a managerial elite that would dominate all spheres of society. In his view, this transformation would not result in socialism or a worker-controlled system but would instead create a new form of society dominated by a class of managers. This new managerial class would be more pragmatic and less ideologically driven than the capitalist class, and it would prioritize efficiency, order, and control. Burnham argued that political systems, including democracies, would be increasingly controlled by managerial elites who would use the state to enforce their authority and pursue their interests.

Francis’s analysis of the managerial class sought to integrate and expand upon Burnham’s ideas. Francis agreed with Burnham’s basic premise that a new class of managerial elites was emerging, but he added important nuances and criticisms that redefined the nature of this class and its role in society.

Building on Burnham’s concept of the managerial class, Francis argued that the managerial elite had become a ruling class in the truest sense of the term. Burnham had seen the managerial revolution as the displacement of traditional capitalists by a technocratic class, but Francis expanded this by emphasizing that the managerial class did not merely hold power in economic terms; it had become entrenched in political and cultural spheres as well.

For Francis, the managerial class was not only composed of corporate managers but also extended to a network of professionals in education, the media, and the legal system. This expanded managerial class wielded influence over virtually every domain of modern life. They controlled not only the economy but also the institutions that shaped public opinion, social values, and political discourse.

Crucially, Francis argued that the managerial class was not simply a neutral technocratic elite interested in efficiency or profit. Rather, it had become a political force that operated in concert with state power. This managerial elite used the mechanisms of the state—not simply in the form of business regulation, but also in the form of social welfare programs, mass education systems, and state-sponsored cultural initiatives—to reinforce its own dominance and further its ideological goals.

One of the key aspects of Francis’s reformulation of Burnham’s theory was his emphasis on the relationship between the managerial class and the state. While Burnham acknowledged the growing role of the state in managing economic and political affairs, he did not fully explore the implications of state power in solidifying the managerial class’s authority. Francis, however, saw the state as an indispensable tool for the managerial class’s consolidation of power.

In Francis’s view, the state had become a primary vehicle through which the managerial class exercised its authority. The expansion of the welfare state, the growth of regulatory agencies, and the development of a vast bureaucratic apparatus all served to empower the managerial elite. Rather than simply managing the economy for the benefit of capital, the state was now used as an instrument for the managerial class to control social and political life.

Furthermore, Francis argued that the state had become increasingly authoritarian, but with a velvet glove rather than an iron fist, especially in the post-World War II period. The rise of bureaucratic governance, with its emphasis on expert rule and technocratic solutions, marked a shift away from democratic principles and towards a form of governance that was largely controlled by unelected elites. The growth of the state, in this sense, was not simply a response to economic complexity, as Burnham had suggested, but was part of a broader political project aimed at entrenching the power of the managerial class.

Another significant departure from Burnham’s original theory was Francis’s exploration of the ideological dimensions of the managerial class’s rise to power. Burnham had argued that the managerial class, while replacing the capitalist class, was not inherently ideological or radical. Instead, it was pragmatic and focused on ensuring the smooth functioning of the economy. However, Francis contended that the managerial class had become deeply ideological, particularly in its embrace of progressive, left-wing ideals.

This ideological shift was tied to the broader cultural changes of the mid-20th century. As the managerial class grew in influence, it aligned itself with progressive social movements, advocating for policies that promoted individualism, state welfare, and social engineering. Francis noted that this ideological commitment was reflected in the managerial class’s support for policies that undermined traditional social structures, including the family, religion, and local communities, which were seen as obstacles to the implementation of a rationalized, state-directed society.

For Francis, the managerial class was not simply focused on economic efficiency but had become an advocate for a new, post-traditional social order. This social order, however, was not one of spontaneous individual freedom or democratic governance but one characterized by centralized control and the imposition of technocratic solutions to social problems.

The Managerial Revolution and Cultural Transformation

Francis’s analysis of the managerial revolution also highlighted its cultural dimensions. While his intellectual lineage stretches through thinkers like James Burnham and the Southern Agrarians, Francis also borrowed from the Marxist theorist Antonio Gramsci—especially Gramsci’s influential idea of cultural hegemony. Gramsci (1891–1937) was a founder of the Italian Communist Party. Imprisoned by Mussolini’s regime, Gramsci wrote his famous Prison Notebooks, in which he departed from the classical Marxist emphasis on direct economic determinism and revolution. Instead, he argued that the ruling class maintains its power not merely through coercive state apparatuses and naked force but through “cultural hegemony”—the control of ideas, values, norms, and institutions in a given society. Through the media, schools, churches, and other civil society institutions, the dominant class persuades the masses to accept its worldview as natural, inevitable, and just. "The supremacy of a social group manifests itself in two ways," Gramsci wrote, "as 'domination' and as 'intellectual and moral leadership'". This soft power is more effective and enduring than brute force.

This intellectual and moral leadership is exercised through civil society institutions: schools, media, churches, and cultural organizations. These institutions create and disseminate the norms, values, and ideas that uphold the legitimacy of the existing power structure. Thus, hegemony is not static but must be constantly produced and reproduced. For Gramsci, successful revolutionary movements must first wage a "war of position" in the cultural sphere before contesting political power directly.

The managerial class, according to Francis, was not just engaged in economic and political control but was also involved in the transformation of culture itself. The educational system, the media, and the arts were all viewed by the managerial class as instruments for shaping public consciousness and reinforcing its power.

This cultural revolution was part of a broader strategy to create a society in which the traditional bonds of family, religion, and community were eroded, and individuals were instead made more dependent on the state and its institutions. In this sense, Francis viewed the managerial class’s ideology as not just one of economic centralization but of cultural domination. The managerial elite sought to replace traditional values with a new set of norms that prioritized individual autonomy, state-directed welfare, and a rationalized, secular vision of society.

Critique of Liberalism and Conservatism

Francis’s reformulation of the managerial revolution was also critical of both mainstream liberalism and conservatism. He argued that liberalism, particularly in its modern, post-World War II form, had become increasingly aligned with the goals of the managerial class. By promoting an expansive role for the state and advocating for progressive social changes, liberalism had essentially become the political arm of the managerial elite.

At the same time, Francis was critical of the conservative movements that failed to recognize the full extent of the managerial revolution. Many conservatives, in Francis’s view, continued to focus on traditional notions of private property and individual freedom, without fully confronting the reality of managerial control over economic and political life. Conservatives relied on bourgeois social forces as their basis for political power. For Francis, the managerial class was not merely a continuation of capitalism and the bourgeois values undergirding it, but a new form representing a fundamental reordering of power that conservatives had failed to understand.

Samuel Francis’s reformulation of James Burnham’s theory of the managerial revolution expanded and deepened Burnham’s analysis of the rise of the managerial class. By emphasizing the entanglement of the managerial elite with the state, their ideological commitment to progressive values, and their control over cultural institutions, Francis offered a more comprehensive and critical view of the managerial class and its role in modern society. His critique highlighted the growing authoritarianism of the state, the ideological transformation of social institutions, and the ways in which the managerial class worked to consolidate its power across both economic and cultural domains. Francis’s work is a critical engagement with Burnham’s ideas, one that offers a sobering assessment of the contemporary political and social order. For Christians seeking to challenge the existing regime, Francis serves as a pathologist of the ruling class—dissecting its nature and explaining how it maintains dominance.


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