4.0

For my money, Kevin D. Williamson is one of the most insightful, engaging, and downright interesting commentators on the political right today. I'm a loyal reader of his columns and dispatches in National Review and enjoyed reading his theater reviews that used to run in The New Criterion. If there's a silver lining to Kevin being ingloriously sacked by (as he refers to The Atlantic) that "august journalistic institution," it's that as his profile has risen, he can now be found in more (widely circulating) outlets like the New York Post and Wall Street Journal.

That is all to say, I'm a big fan of Kevin's writing and very much looked forward to reading his latest book, The Smallest Minority.

Fundamentally, this book is a defense of individualism and a denunciation of the populism, conformity, and outrage politics that have infected virtually all facets of life. That Kevin is an iconoclast is a profound understatement, and given his recent professional history, he is well-qualified to write this sort of book.

At the outset, Kevin wryly notes that he's "not going to make this easy on [us]" before diving headlong into a whirlwind intellectual history of mob politics, drawing upon ancient history, Shakespeare, political philosophy (especially that of the Germany variety), current social science, and everything in between. In roughly the second half of the book, Kevin returns to the present day, using this background material to forcefully skewer the conformism currently running loose in corporations, the news media, across social media, and our current politics. Finally, Kevin devotes a few pages to describing his experience being hired and then immediately fired by that august journalistic institution thanks to the precise mob politics he so effectively goes after in this book. He's written bits and pieces of this material before, but it's nice to be able to read it all in one place, and it's a whole lot more interesting and engaging than he gives it credit for.

This is a relatively quick read, and Kevin's wit and jocular use of footnotes helps to keep what is fairly deep and erudite philosophical material reasonably light and accessible. I was entertained, I learned something, and I now probably feel more pessimistic after reading the book than before. What's not to like?