Theory vs. Practicality Theme Analysis

Early in the Reflections, Burke writes, “But I cannot […]  give praise or blame to any thing which relates to human actions, and human concerns […] in all the nakedness and solitude of metaphysical abstraction […] Circumstances are what render every civil and political scheme beneficial or noxious to mankind.” In keeping with his emphasis on the importance of history and the natural order, Burke believes that government is particular and specific, not general and theoretical. In saying this, Burke does not suggest that the French appeal to “natural rights” is fundamentally wrong, but that such an abstract appeal is not an adequate basis for governing a country. By showing how talk of abstract “rights” is insufficiently rooted in practical solutions, Burke argues that an excessively theoretical basis for governance is ultimately self-destructive.

In Burke’s view, an insistence on abstract “natural rights” is not a sustainable basis for governance. Burke quotes a law in which “parliament says to the king, ‘Your subjects have inherited this freedom,’ claiming their franchises, not on abstract principles as the ‘rights of men,’ but as the rights of Englishmen, and as a patrimony derived from their forefathers.” Such a “patrimony” can be traced all the way from the Magna Charta to the more recent Declaration of Right: “We have an inheritable crown; an inheritable peerage; and an house of commons and a people inheriting privileges, franchises, and liberties, from a long line of ancestors.” In other words, English government has traditionally been rooted in the particular history of a particular people, and their pattern of governance is derived from that history—not from a philosophical articulation of rights, like that espoused in the French Revolution.

Emphasis on abstract theory leads to the elevation of lawmakers who are ill-equipped to deal with concrete questions of governance. Burke argues that France’s new National Assembly is packed with inferior lawyers, doctors, and traders—"all of these from whom […] little knowledge of or attention to the interests of a great state was to be expected […] men formed to be instruments, not controls.” In other words, these men were chosen in the interests of supposed equality; however, because they have no prior experience in legislation, they are really just cogs in a mechanical structure of governance that might make sense in theory, but has little grounding in the specific problems of running a complex nation.

Though Burke does not deny the existence of natural human rights, he holds that these are too abstract to form a basis for governance. “Government is not made in virtue of natural rights, which may and do exist in total independence of it; […] Government is a contrivance of human wisdom to provide for human wants.” He elaborates, “What is the use of discussing a man’s abstract right to food or to medicine? The question is upon the method of procuring and administering them. In that deliberation I shall always advise to call in the aid of the farmer and the physician, rather than the professor of metaphysics.'' In other words, a general argument for human rights is not the work of government. Instead, government is about the practical application of such rights, something which is rarely addressed by mere theorists.

An overemphasis on theory over an application of principles tends toward a destructive approach to governance. The practicality Burke stresses earlier helps explain why historical precedents and models are necessary: “The science of government being therefore so practical in itself […] [it is a] matter which requires experience, and even more experience than any person can gain in his whole life, however sagacious and observing he may be.” Because of this, “it is with infinite caution that any man ought to venture upon pulling down an edifice which has answered in any tolerable degree for ages the common purposes of society […] without having models and patterns of approved utility before his eyes.” In Burke’s view, revolution tends to be more concerned with tearing down than with building up, usually by means of blanket denunciation rather than informed, cautious societal change. Thus, most people who are abstractly focused on revolution have not given sufficient thought to the practicalities of sustainable governance.

Moreover, such a theoretical mindset is not conducive to creating a society deserving of people’s affection: “Mechanic philosophy” cannot “create in us love, veneration, admiration, or attachment. But that sort of reason which banishes the affections is incapable of tilling their place. […] To make us love our country, our country ought to be lovely.” In other words, abstract philosophy teaches people what to reject, but it doesn’t build worthwhile alternatives in place of what’s rejected. Burke suggests that people ultimately can’t love ideas; they love tangible, human-scale things, and revolutionaries ignore these at their peril.

Burke expands on the above idea when he writes, “By hating vices too much, [philosophers] come to love men too little. It is therefore not wonderful, that they should be indisposed and unable to serve them.” When agitating for revolution, in other words, it’s natural for leaders to focus on what is broken and lacking in society. But however pressing those deficiencies might be, an excessive focus on them does not produce leaders who know how to address the daily needs of human beings. He suggests, therefore, that the French Revolution is in the process of undermining itself.