The rise of right-wing populism over the past decade has left many on the socialist left puzzled. They often blame the surge on the betrayal of the working class by center-left parties. These parties, they argue, embraced free trade and neoliberal policies, leading to job losses and stagnant wages. This, combined with the 2008 financial crisis and the rise of the billionaire class, fueled voter anger. Far-right leaders tapped into this rage, promising to overthrow the system. The left's solution? A sharp turn to the left, with promises of a bigger, more redistributive state to win back the working class.

The left's analysis, however, often misses the mark. This is partly due to their commitment to materialism, a theory that suggests people act based on their economic interests. This theory, while useful in some contexts, can oversimplify human behavior. It reduces people to mere consumers, ignoring other crucial factors like love, religion, and ideology. This reductionism is a significant problem when analyzing the far right.

Many on the left start with the assumption that far-right voting must have a material cause. They believe that voters' beliefs on race or religion ultimately trace back to economic factors, like anger over job losses blamed on immigrants. This perspective dismisses the idea that people might hold beliefs for other reasons. It overlooks the fact that ideas, values, and religions can have independent causal force, motivating people for their own sake.

Some argue that materialism is not as simplistic as it seems. They suggest that while people do have non-material interests, they only pursue these when their basic needs are met. However, this concession weakens materialism's usefulness as a guide to understanding modern politics. It shifts the focus from objective material interests to people's perceptions of those interests, which can be influenced by non-material factors.

To illustrate this, consider the declining relevance of class in democratic politics. Wealthy citizens vote to raise their own taxes, while some poor and working-class voters support right-wing parties that cut benefits. This seems like an instance of ideology or identity trumping material self-interest. However, a materialist might argue that the welfare state has created a floor of material comfort, allowing voters to prioritize ideological concerns. But this argument undermines the materialist's central claim that material concerns drive politics.

A more sophisticated materialist might blame media and political leaders for misleading the working class. But this argument falls apart when considering the U. S. media's hostility towards Donald Trump. He won despite this hostility, with increasing support from lower-income and non-college voters. Moreover, the media landscape in other countries experiencing far-right surges is not systematically biased in favor of these parties.

The left's insistence on materialism leads them to dismiss what might be the best explanation for the far right's rise: a change in the ideological structure of global politics. An egalitarian vision of democracy has challenged traditional hierarchies, leading to social changes that unsettled certain segments of the population. Far-right parties have championed these segments, articulating ideas that match their deeply held beliefs, values, and identities.

Adopting a postmaterial analytic framework does not mean abandoning left-wing politics. It's possible to see voters as driven by ideas without giving up commitments to improving workers' lives or bolstering the welfare state. In fact, doing so might be essential for the left to succeed. As long as the left insists on materialism as its primary theory of politics, it will continue to misunderstand the far right's power and propose ineffective solutions.

Why the Left Misreads the Right's Rise

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