The pursuit of individual freedom has led to a kind of “anti-civilization,” or erosion of the shared culture that makes a free society possible, Quebec author Étienne-Alexandre Beauregard argues in a new book.
In Anti-Civilization (Sutherland House, 2026), Beauregard makes the case for a conservative renewal across Western democracies that is grounded in tradition, national identity and a sense of the common good.
Beauregard, a researcher at the think tank Cardus and former speechwriter for Quebec premier François Legault, believes such a renewal could be led by young people who are dissatisfied with individualism and searching for belonging.
Beauregard spoke with Canadian Affairs about multiculturalism, the limits of individual freedom, and whether young Canadians should resent the generations that came before them.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
SF: Some people see Canada and other Western countries as peaceful, orderly and relatively prosperous. What convinces you that they are undergoing the process you call ‘anti-civilization’?
ÉAB: The reason many people turn conservative today is that they think our streets are less safe and our immigration system has gone completely haywire. We see a manifest decline. Drug policy in B.C., for example, is a very concrete manifestation of such a decline.
But if you look at the culture, it’s really about the interaction between the individual and society.
Ever since the ’60s, I think we’ve been moving more into an individual-versus-society mindset, rather than the idea that the individual flourishes through society. But if you look at identity politics, especially in the last 10 years, it’s really: What is the most marginal card I can pull out to separate myself from the rest of society?
We feel less and less like we’re part of something in common, and more like we have to set ourselves apart from society to be valued as individuals.
SF: Canadian multiculturalism is based on the idea that people can preserve distinct identities while participating in a common society. Is that tenable in the long term?
ÉAB: I think it was a mistake because it approached the issue from the wrong side.
There’s always an element of pluralism in our democratic societies. But can you build unity on top of disunity? Or are culture and tradition a bedrock of unity that actually allow us to express our differences afterwards?
Both elements have to exist in a society. But I think we’re on very shaky ground if we decide to build a society on what does not unite us.
SF: You don’t use the term ‘neo-Marxism’ in the book. Was that deliberate? Has it become a catch-all term on the right for cultural developments people dislike?
ÉAB: I don’t use the term because it’s not part of my vocabulary. I critique the zero-sum, oppressor-versus-oppressed framework that we still see applied in identity politics today. But that’s not the whole story. I think we’re letting liberals off the hook too easily when we just point to the Marxists.
The book emphasizes how valuing negative freedom in Isaiah Berlin’s sense of the term — and he is a classical liberal, not a Marxist — is also part of the deconstruction of society. If you define freedom as having no boundaries, having no one stop you from doing whatever you want, then obviously deconstruction will follow.
This vision sets up conflicts with any authority, any historically defined limits or values that bind your desires, maybe for good reason. There is a classically liberal element to this that I did not want to let off the hook too easily.
SF: You argue that baby boomers broke the chain through which cultural and moral traditions are passed down. Are you optimistic that Generation Z can recover what was lost?
ÉAB: I’ve never been a doomer. I’m more of an optimistic person, and I think we have good reason to be optimistic.
Boomers thought they could reinvent the world without caring much for the past. But when you deliberately cut the chain of transmission and just transmit this abstract vision of freedom, then a few generations later, our generation doesn’t have these tools to make informed choices. I think this is why we crave something more. We crave more unity.
We’re very dissatisfied with what Zygmunt Bauman called ‘liquid modernity’: this idea that there’s nothing solid. All there is is this abstract freedom. I think it’s very destabilizing, and we can’t build a society on that.
Whenever I talk across party lines to people my age who are much more progressive, this concern with what ties us together is still very present. Sometimes generational change is much more powerful than party change.
SF: When I talk to people in their 20s and 30s about politics, I sense a lot of resentment towards older generations. Is that resentment justified?
ÉAB: A lot of the book is against ideologies of resentment, so I will lead by example.
It’s pretty clear that I think we’ve made bad choices since the ’60s. But if we embrace the more conservative direction I would like, it also means reconciling generations.
If you’re a true patriot or a true nationalist, you have to want to learn from your elders because you believe this is something worthy. It’s about finding the heritage our grandparents and parents inherited, but that got lost along the way through too much naivety and the idea that it would preserve itself.
To some extent, it’s a strength not being given everything, because you desire it more. I think this is what we’re seeing with the conservative revival among younger people in Canada and elsewhere in the West.
SF: Your book makes a conservative argument but largely avoids party politics. Why?
ÉAB: I care more about ideas than parties. It’s also a transnational book: I have examples from France, the United Kingdom, the United States, Canada and Quebec. It’s not a campaign book by any means.
I’ve worked in partisan politics, and I think it’s too easy to forget about ideas. This is why some people are dissatisfied with their own party: they feel it goes astray when it embraces the wrong ideas.
The reason I’m involved in politics and have been for the past 10 years is not because I want to be a cheerleader for a particular colour. It’s because I believe in a vision of the good life, and I want it to be realized.
