Thank you for this most excellent essay. You’ve given me some valuable and timely talking points as I've been engaged in a lengthy text conversation with my Trump-voting, populist, anarcho-capitalist / libertarian brother in the days leading up to and following the U.S. election. You’ve articulated several of the points I've been trying to communicate to him as a left / socialist anarchist-leaning person. We have populism in common, and that's enough common ground for us to share in some thoughtful conversation. I'm trying to get him to see that the people he's been listening to are not friends and will not lead the way to the more liberated society we seems to share a vision for.
Love your videos and now great to read too. As a working class kid (old school apprenticeship in industry) who then self educated ‘up’ through a fair few significant creative institutions (RCA), then back into industry and then teaching the next generations through HE, this is all very relatable.
I’ll send this article to an old friend who trod a similar path, but became our local Labour MP.
The narrative of the “common man” or “working class” serves as a double-edged sword in political discourse. On the one hand, it appeals to a broad sense of solidarity and shared struggle; on the other, it oversimplifies and distorts the realities of modern society.
This framework is rooted in binaries—ordinary people vs elites—that reduce complex socio-economic dynamics to a conflict between two vaguely defined groups. While emotionally resonant, this approach often obscures the nuances required to address systemic issues and perpetuates a reductive worldview that undermines broader coalition-building.
The narrative’s reliance on a singular conception of the “working class” is increasingly problematic. It fails to account for the diverse realities within the modern workforce, from gig economy workers to professionals, many of whom do not fit into the traditional image of industrial laborers.
Furthermore, it marginalizes those whose experiences intersect with other dimensions of inequality, such as race, gender, and immigration status. By presenting the “common man” as a singular identity, the narrative erases critical distinctions that shape how people interact with systems of power.
This rhetoric also feeds into populist attacks on institutions. While it claims to champion the interests of ordinary people, it often delegitimizes the very structures necessary for collective governance, accountability, and reform.
The Enlightenment principles of reason, evidence-based decision-making, and institutional checks and balances become casualties in this narrative, replaced by suspicion, anti-intellectualism, and an overreliance on emotional appeals. The result is a political landscape where trust in institutions is eroded, leaving a vacuum often filled by reactionary movements.
The framing of “ordinary people vs elites” plays directly into the hands of right-wing populism, which uses the same vocabulary to stoke resentment and consolidate power. This binary opposition fosters division rather than addressing the systemic issues that affect all demographics. It also aligns with a broader cultural shift toward anti-establishment sentiment, wherein institutions are seen not as tools for progress but as inherently corrupt entities to be dismantled.
Moreover, this narrative struggles to adapt to the complexities of a globalized, interconnected world. Modern challenges, such as climate change, technological disruption, and global inequality, require cooperative solutions that transcend national or class-based frameworks. The “common man” rhetoric, with its often nationalistic undertones, risks alienating those who do not fit its mold and undermines the collective action needed to address these pressing issues.
By appealing to simplicity, the narrative of the “common man” fails to engage with the intricacies of modern governance and reform. It perpetuates distrust in institutions, reduces diverse populations to homogenous groups, and reinforces a binary worldview that deepens divisions. While it remains a powerful rhetorical tool, its limitations reveal the challenges of addressing complex societal issues through a reductive lens.
A shift away from the “common man” narrative requires the introduction of a vocabulary that reflects shared agency, interconnectedness, and a collective pursuit of progress. Terms like “community members,” “citizens,” or “collaborators” can serve as unifying identifiers, emphasizing participation and shared responsibility without reducing people to simplistic categories. Similarly, the idea of “builders” or “innovators” conveys a sense of active engagement and forward movement, while avoiding the antagonistic framing of “us vs. them.”
Instead of relying on binaries, the focus should shift toward language that highlights systems and institutions as evolving and adaptable. For example, speaking of “our shared institutions” or “frameworks for collective action” positions these entities as tools for empowerment rather than oppression. Phrases like “collaborative progress” or “equitable governance” introduce nuance by acknowledging the need for reform while maintaining the importance of structure and accountability.
This reframing moves beyond the right-left narrative by centering on values like fairness, opportunity, and shared purpose. It opens space for broader coalitions, encouraging people to see themselves not in opposition to others but as contributors to a collective effort to shape the future. By adopting this nuanced vocabulary, the conversation can transcend divisive populism and foster a sense of unity grounded in mutual respect and aspiration.
I've been enjoying your YouTube videos for a year or more Lewis, so great to see you having a written medium. I'm still trying to get through your last two videos and give them the proper attention they deserve.
Lewis, I think an intriguing historical examination would be to analyze modern history through the lens of the Farsay Agreement and Wilson’s Fourteen Points, with a focus on how racial identity, Marxism, and liberalism were co-opted and weaponized by competing visions of global order. The disagreement between these frameworks wasn’t just economic; it was—and remains—a deeper ideological clash over the shape of a multipolar world.
Wilson’s liberal internationalism, with its emphasis on self-determination and democratic governance, sought to create a rules-based order that would undermine imperialism and promote individual freedoms. However, this vision clashed with Russia’s evolving strategy of using racial and cultural divides to assert dominance and counterbalance American influence. While America employed liberalism to champion individual rights and national sovereignty, Russia weaponized racial divides—both domestically in the U.S. and internationally—to destabilize and undermine liberal democracies.
During the Cold War, this dynamic became even more pronounced. Marxism, which was ostensibly an economic framework, was hijacked by the Soviet Union and infused with racial and anti-colonial narratives. By emphasizing America’s struggles with systemic racism—highlighting segregation, civil rights abuses, and inequality—the Soviet Union portrayed itself as a champion of oppressed peoples globally. This wasn’t just ideological; it was geopolitical, aiming to peel away alliances and influence from the West by appealing to marginalized groups in Africa, Asia, and the Americas. Yet, the Soviet Union’s own policies of Russification and internal ethnic suppression revealed the contradictions of this approach, as it leaned heavily on Russian identity to maintain control over its empire.
This context also explains why liberalism, despite being the ideological bedrock of American influence, has fallen under attack. Liberalism’s emphasis on pluralism, rights, and institutional governance was both its strength and its vulnerability. The Soviet Union framed liberalism as a façade for Western imperialism, exploiting its internal contradictions—like racial inequities in the U.S.—to erode its global legitimacy. Even after the fall of the Soviet Union, Russia inherited and adapted this strategy, leveraging disinformation and cultural manipulation to deepen racial and ideological divides within Western democracies.
Fast forward to today, and we can see how these historical strategies manifest in the current alignment between Russia and elements of the global right. Russia’s modern strategy often mirrors its Cold War playbook, amplifying identity-based grievances and stoking anti-liberal sentiment. This alliance isn’t accidental—it’s rooted in a shared disdain for liberal internationalism and a vision of a multipolar world that undermines American-led global order. The right’s cultural focus on “traditional values” and opposition to liberal pluralism aligns with Russia’s narrative of resisting Western moral and cultural dominance.
By looking at these dynamics through the historical lens of Wilsonian liberalism versus Russian racial and cultural opportunism, we can better understand not only the ideological struggles of the 20th century but also the geopolitical undercurrents shaping today’s world.
Thanks. I am in favour of politicians who are popular but not ones that are populist and I have struggled to work out what is the difference. This helped me realise what it is.
Firstly, I agree with the view (expressed above) that, when the Left came back into power in the UK and USA after Thatcher and Reagan, they sold out to corporate money interests. That was Blair’s as well as Clinton's ‘Third Way’. That’s the main cause of the frustration that has shifted politics to the Right this century, a large aspect of which is the rise of populists like Trump and Farage. But they are con-men. They pretend to be on the side of the people when they are really on the side of corporate money interests even more than the Left of Blair and Clinton.
On the whole, I would dismiss the notion of ‘a progressive populist stance’. I’d suggest what we need is a popular stance: one that taps into the frustration felt by working class people that they are working long hours for poor pay, have worse housing options than their parents had, and have health and other public services that are crumbling (literally in the case of aero-concrete schools), all amid an ever-widening wealth divide. Danny Dorling sums up the problem in his new (2024) book, Seven Children: Inequality and Britain's Next Generation. Overall, due to poverty, he says, British children have been getting shorter in recent years. What an indictment. See
The solution, one would think, would be a Left that goes back to talking about class politics. Who might that be? Certainly not New Labour nor the Democrats.
If the Left had maintained a progressive populist stance through the 90s instead of selling out (Clinton's Third Way) to corporate money interests, it would kept them on the moral high ground and done much to diffuse the frustration that shifted all politics to the Right. But we had Reaganism to combat and that led to compromises that defeated progressives. It all began when Americans learned they could not trust their government with the criminal corruption and resignation of Richard Nixon. Nixon opened China. Nixon ended the gold standard. Nixon weaponized the government against his enemies. Then Reagan killed PATCO and the labor movement. America has never been the same since. I'm not sure how the UK aligns with that template but it's the timeline I have seen.
The timeline you outline reflects a critical shift in U.S. politics, but it’s essential to view these events within a broader geopolitical and cultural framework. The collapse of trust in institutions during Nixon’s era, followed by Reagan’s attack on labor, didn’t occur in a vacuum—it coincided with deeper shifts in global power and identity politics. These shifts have continued to shape the frustrations and aspirations that drive contemporary politics, particularly in an immigrant-driven society like the U.S.
Geopolitically, Nixon’s policies, including opening relations with China and abandoning the gold standard, were as much about maintaining U.S. dominance as they were about addressing domestic economic pressures. This was a response to the Cold War landscape, where the Soviet Union, through its use of racial and anti-imperialist narratives, sought to undermine U.S. influence globally. Russia’s use of racial and cultural identity as a geopolitical tool wasn’t new—it had been a consistent strategy since the 19th century to assert dominance over diverse populations in its empire and beyond. During the Cold War, this took the form of positioning the USSR as a champion of oppressed peoples, even while reinforcing Russian dominance within its own bloc.
Domestically, this translated into a tension between the U.S. as a land of opportunity and a country grappling with deep inequalities and divisions. Immigration, often heralded as the engine of American progress, brought with it a mix of aspirations and frustrations. While immigrants sought opportunity, they entered a society shaped by systemic racial and economic inequities that were only exacerbated by neoliberal policies. Reagan’s attack on unions and the labor movement, for example, hit immigrant and minority communities particularly hard, compounding economic disparities.
This backdrop complicates the narrative of a simple “progressive populism vs neoliberal sellout.” The challenges facing the Left weren’t just about corporate money or Reaganism—they were about failing to create a cohesive narrative that could integrate the aspirations of an increasingly diverse and immigrant-driven society while addressing systemic inequities. Unlike communism, which in the Soviet context leaned heavily on racial and cultural identity for control, the U.S. needed a vision that transcended identity politics and embraced pluralism as a strength.
The Right capitalized on this failure by offering a simplified narrative of “us vs. them,” blending economic, cultural, and racial grievances into a potent populist force. To counter this, progressives must offer more than policies—they need a framework that acknowledges the interconnectedness of economic fairness, racial justice, and the aspirations of a diverse society. The Cold War and post-Cold War periods illustrate how failing to adapt to these complexities left the Left vulnerable to both internal fragmentation and external manipulation.
In essence, the frustrations you describe aren’t just the product of domestic compromises—they’re part of a larger story about how the Left struggled to navigate a world increasingly shaped by globalization, immigration, and the weaponization of identity politics by adversaries like Russia. To move forward, any progressive movement must grapple with this history and build a narrative that unites people across divides without reducing their experiences to simplistic categories. This requires acknowledging how global and domestic forces have intersected to shape the aspirations—and frustrations—of the American people.
Lewis Waller with a Substack? Yes please. Love your videos.
Thank you
Finally. Glad you’re here!
Thank you for this most excellent essay. You’ve given me some valuable and timely talking points as I've been engaged in a lengthy text conversation with my Trump-voting, populist, anarcho-capitalist / libertarian brother in the days leading up to and following the U.S. election. You’ve articulated several of the points I've been trying to communicate to him as a left / socialist anarchist-leaning person. We have populism in common, and that's enough common ground for us to share in some thoughtful conversation. I'm trying to get him to see that the people he's been listening to are not friends and will not lead the way to the more liberated society we seems to share a vision for.
Love your videos and now great to read too. As a working class kid (old school apprenticeship in industry) who then self educated ‘up’ through a fair few significant creative institutions (RCA), then back into industry and then teaching the next generations through HE, this is all very relatable.
I’ll send this article to an old friend who trod a similar path, but became our local Labour MP.
The narrative of the “common man” or “working class” serves as a double-edged sword in political discourse. On the one hand, it appeals to a broad sense of solidarity and shared struggle; on the other, it oversimplifies and distorts the realities of modern society.
This framework is rooted in binaries—ordinary people vs elites—that reduce complex socio-economic dynamics to a conflict between two vaguely defined groups. While emotionally resonant, this approach often obscures the nuances required to address systemic issues and perpetuates a reductive worldview that undermines broader coalition-building.
The narrative’s reliance on a singular conception of the “working class” is increasingly problematic. It fails to account for the diverse realities within the modern workforce, from gig economy workers to professionals, many of whom do not fit into the traditional image of industrial laborers.
Furthermore, it marginalizes those whose experiences intersect with other dimensions of inequality, such as race, gender, and immigration status. By presenting the “common man” as a singular identity, the narrative erases critical distinctions that shape how people interact with systems of power.
This rhetoric also feeds into populist attacks on institutions. While it claims to champion the interests of ordinary people, it often delegitimizes the very structures necessary for collective governance, accountability, and reform.
The Enlightenment principles of reason, evidence-based decision-making, and institutional checks and balances become casualties in this narrative, replaced by suspicion, anti-intellectualism, and an overreliance on emotional appeals. The result is a political landscape where trust in institutions is eroded, leaving a vacuum often filled by reactionary movements.
The framing of “ordinary people vs elites” plays directly into the hands of right-wing populism, which uses the same vocabulary to stoke resentment and consolidate power. This binary opposition fosters division rather than addressing the systemic issues that affect all demographics. It also aligns with a broader cultural shift toward anti-establishment sentiment, wherein institutions are seen not as tools for progress but as inherently corrupt entities to be dismantled.
Moreover, this narrative struggles to adapt to the complexities of a globalized, interconnected world. Modern challenges, such as climate change, technological disruption, and global inequality, require cooperative solutions that transcend national or class-based frameworks. The “common man” rhetoric, with its often nationalistic undertones, risks alienating those who do not fit its mold and undermines the collective action needed to address these pressing issues.
By appealing to simplicity, the narrative of the “common man” fails to engage with the intricacies of modern governance and reform. It perpetuates distrust in institutions, reduces diverse populations to homogenous groups, and reinforces a binary worldview that deepens divisions. While it remains a powerful rhetorical tool, its limitations reveal the challenges of addressing complex societal issues through a reductive lens.
A shift away from the “common man” narrative requires the introduction of a vocabulary that reflects shared agency, interconnectedness, and a collective pursuit of progress. Terms like “community members,” “citizens,” or “collaborators” can serve as unifying identifiers, emphasizing participation and shared responsibility without reducing people to simplistic categories. Similarly, the idea of “builders” or “innovators” conveys a sense of active engagement and forward movement, while avoiding the antagonistic framing of “us vs. them.”
Instead of relying on binaries, the focus should shift toward language that highlights systems and institutions as evolving and adaptable. For example, speaking of “our shared institutions” or “frameworks for collective action” positions these entities as tools for empowerment rather than oppression. Phrases like “collaborative progress” or “equitable governance” introduce nuance by acknowledging the need for reform while maintaining the importance of structure and accountability.
This reframing moves beyond the right-left narrative by centering on values like fairness, opportunity, and shared purpose. It opens space for broader coalitions, encouraging people to see themselves not in opposition to others but as contributors to a collective effort to shape the future. By adopting this nuanced vocabulary, the conversation can transcend divisive populism and foster a sense of unity grounded in mutual respect and aspiration.
Welcome to Substack, Lewis. Glad you are here.
"slang for ideological-captured-non-thinking people" - this is peak privileged champagne socialism lens
Great video. Sets some common points to rally around.
I've been enjoying your YouTube videos for a year or more Lewis, so great to see you having a written medium. I'm still trying to get through your last two videos and give them the proper attention they deserve.
Lewis, I think an intriguing historical examination would be to analyze modern history through the lens of the Farsay Agreement and Wilson’s Fourteen Points, with a focus on how racial identity, Marxism, and liberalism were co-opted and weaponized by competing visions of global order. The disagreement between these frameworks wasn’t just economic; it was—and remains—a deeper ideological clash over the shape of a multipolar world.
Wilson’s liberal internationalism, with its emphasis on self-determination and democratic governance, sought to create a rules-based order that would undermine imperialism and promote individual freedoms. However, this vision clashed with Russia’s evolving strategy of using racial and cultural divides to assert dominance and counterbalance American influence. While America employed liberalism to champion individual rights and national sovereignty, Russia weaponized racial divides—both domestically in the U.S. and internationally—to destabilize and undermine liberal democracies.
During the Cold War, this dynamic became even more pronounced. Marxism, which was ostensibly an economic framework, was hijacked by the Soviet Union and infused with racial and anti-colonial narratives. By emphasizing America’s struggles with systemic racism—highlighting segregation, civil rights abuses, and inequality—the Soviet Union portrayed itself as a champion of oppressed peoples globally. This wasn’t just ideological; it was geopolitical, aiming to peel away alliances and influence from the West by appealing to marginalized groups in Africa, Asia, and the Americas. Yet, the Soviet Union’s own policies of Russification and internal ethnic suppression revealed the contradictions of this approach, as it leaned heavily on Russian identity to maintain control over its empire.
This context also explains why liberalism, despite being the ideological bedrock of American influence, has fallen under attack. Liberalism’s emphasis on pluralism, rights, and institutional governance was both its strength and its vulnerability. The Soviet Union framed liberalism as a façade for Western imperialism, exploiting its internal contradictions—like racial inequities in the U.S.—to erode its global legitimacy. Even after the fall of the Soviet Union, Russia inherited and adapted this strategy, leveraging disinformation and cultural manipulation to deepen racial and ideological divides within Western democracies.
Fast forward to today, and we can see how these historical strategies manifest in the current alignment between Russia and elements of the global right. Russia’s modern strategy often mirrors its Cold War playbook, amplifying identity-based grievances and stoking anti-liberal sentiment. This alliance isn’t accidental—it’s rooted in a shared disdain for liberal internationalism and a vision of a multipolar world that undermines American-led global order. The right’s cultural focus on “traditional values” and opposition to liberal pluralism aligns with Russia’s narrative of resisting Western moral and cultural dominance.
By looking at these dynamics through the historical lens of Wilsonian liberalism versus Russian racial and cultural opportunism, we can better understand not only the ideological struggles of the 20th century but also the geopolitical undercurrents shaping today’s world.
Thanks. I am in favour of politicians who are popular but not ones that are populist and I have struggled to work out what is the difference. This helped me realise what it is.
Firstly, I agree with the view (expressed above) that, when the Left came back into power in the UK and USA after Thatcher and Reagan, they sold out to corporate money interests. That was Blair’s as well as Clinton's ‘Third Way’. That’s the main cause of the frustration that has shifted politics to the Right this century, a large aspect of which is the rise of populists like Trump and Farage. But they are con-men. They pretend to be on the side of the people when they are really on the side of corporate money interests even more than the Left of Blair and Clinton.
On the whole, I would dismiss the notion of ‘a progressive populist stance’. I’d suggest what we need is a popular stance: one that taps into the frustration felt by working class people that they are working long hours for poor pay, have worse housing options than their parents had, and have health and other public services that are crumbling (literally in the case of aero-concrete schools), all amid an ever-widening wealth divide. Danny Dorling sums up the problem in his new (2024) book, Seven Children: Inequality and Britain's Next Generation. Overall, due to poverty, he says, British children have been getting shorter in recent years. What an indictment. See
www.dannydorling.org/books/sevenchildren
www.theguardian.com/books/2024/sep/30/seven-children-inequality-and-britains-next-generation-by-danny-dorling-review-essential-reading
www.youtube.com/watch?v=dNZTkU3rMCE
The solution, one would think, would be a Left that goes back to talking about class politics. Who might that be? Certainly not New Labour nor the Democrats.
If the Left had maintained a progressive populist stance through the 90s instead of selling out (Clinton's Third Way) to corporate money interests, it would kept them on the moral high ground and done much to diffuse the frustration that shifted all politics to the Right. But we had Reaganism to combat and that led to compromises that defeated progressives. It all began when Americans learned they could not trust their government with the criminal corruption and resignation of Richard Nixon. Nixon opened China. Nixon ended the gold standard. Nixon weaponized the government against his enemies. Then Reagan killed PATCO and the labor movement. America has never been the same since. I'm not sure how the UK aligns with that template but it's the timeline I have seen.
The timeline you outline reflects a critical shift in U.S. politics, but it’s essential to view these events within a broader geopolitical and cultural framework. The collapse of trust in institutions during Nixon’s era, followed by Reagan’s attack on labor, didn’t occur in a vacuum—it coincided with deeper shifts in global power and identity politics. These shifts have continued to shape the frustrations and aspirations that drive contemporary politics, particularly in an immigrant-driven society like the U.S.
Geopolitically, Nixon’s policies, including opening relations with China and abandoning the gold standard, were as much about maintaining U.S. dominance as they were about addressing domestic economic pressures. This was a response to the Cold War landscape, where the Soviet Union, through its use of racial and anti-imperialist narratives, sought to undermine U.S. influence globally. Russia’s use of racial and cultural identity as a geopolitical tool wasn’t new—it had been a consistent strategy since the 19th century to assert dominance over diverse populations in its empire and beyond. During the Cold War, this took the form of positioning the USSR as a champion of oppressed peoples, even while reinforcing Russian dominance within its own bloc.
Domestically, this translated into a tension between the U.S. as a land of opportunity and a country grappling with deep inequalities and divisions. Immigration, often heralded as the engine of American progress, brought with it a mix of aspirations and frustrations. While immigrants sought opportunity, they entered a society shaped by systemic racial and economic inequities that were only exacerbated by neoliberal policies. Reagan’s attack on unions and the labor movement, for example, hit immigrant and minority communities particularly hard, compounding economic disparities.
This backdrop complicates the narrative of a simple “progressive populism vs neoliberal sellout.” The challenges facing the Left weren’t just about corporate money or Reaganism—they were about failing to create a cohesive narrative that could integrate the aspirations of an increasingly diverse and immigrant-driven society while addressing systemic inequities. Unlike communism, which in the Soviet context leaned heavily on racial and cultural identity for control, the U.S. needed a vision that transcended identity politics and embraced pluralism as a strength.
The Right capitalized on this failure by offering a simplified narrative of “us vs. them,” blending economic, cultural, and racial grievances into a potent populist force. To counter this, progressives must offer more than policies—they need a framework that acknowledges the interconnectedness of economic fairness, racial justice, and the aspirations of a diverse society. The Cold War and post-Cold War periods illustrate how failing to adapt to these complexities left the Left vulnerable to both internal fragmentation and external manipulation.
In essence, the frustrations you describe aren’t just the product of domestic compromises—they’re part of a larger story about how the Left struggled to navigate a world increasingly shaped by globalization, immigration, and the weaponization of identity politics by adversaries like Russia. To move forward, any progressive movement must grapple with this history and build a narrative that unites people across divides without reducing their experiences to simplistic categories. This requires acknowledging how global and domestic forces have intersected to shape the aspirations—and frustrations—of the American people.
Please stop diluting the discourse with ChatGPT generated nothingburgers.