The Necessity of a Modern Principles of Socialism Primer

From the moment a person is born, their existence becomes bounded by an accumulation of learned fears. We learn to fear pain before we can explain it, to fear strangers even though we know nothing about them, and to recognize and fear the observation and judgment of friends, family, institutions, society, and gods. Yet for a person living in the United States of America, there is no fear that is more fundamentally ingrained into us than the fear of socialism. There have been many epithets associated with it since its rise to prominence in the 19th and 20th centuries: “The Red Terror,” “The Red Scare,” “The Red Menace,” all of which work together to provoke an instinctual, hostile response to this imparted image of a ruinous foreign threat. But what exactly is socialism, and why have so many of us learned to be afraid of it?

To the already inclined, such an answer might seem obvious. It is, after all, a trivial task for us to recall and recite a response retrieved from one of the many theoretical works written by some long-dead authoritative figure on the subject; we already possess the necessary vocabulary to identify and define the real enemy. But to the average American, the most prominent notions of socialism that are presented through political discourse are like the shadows on the wall as seen by a trapped prisoner in Plato’s allegory of the cave. To that end, Americans are typically only ever shown a distorted simulacrum of reality in which the fear of socialism is embodied via carefully selected images of dictatorships, gulags, secret police, mass killings… a dystopian, horrifying world. On the other hand, even in the rare instances where it is depicted in a relatively positive light, generally through the misconception of equating it with policies such as universal healthcare and a robust welfare state, this version wherein “socialism is when the government does stuff” – though on the surface an innocuous, facetious phrase – really serves to belie the popular fears of undeserving welfare abusers, government overreach, and the loss of individual choice at the hands of a byzantine bureaucracy. It does not challenge dominant narratives about socialism, but accepts them. Within both of these seemingly distinct definitions lies the implicit understanding that socialism is to be regarded as an entity to fear long before it can ever be seen as an idea to actively engage with.

We cannot avoid this issue by putting off these impressions that are fundamentally intertwined with the socialist label and relying on the populist basis of shared grievances to propel us towards achieving our goal of a mass-based political endeavor. People can be angry about the inflated cost of housing, the looming (under)employment crisis, declining purchasing power, AI data centers, the tyranny of ICE and the increasingly pervasive surveillance state, and rising wealth inequality without possessing a common explanation of how these problems relate to one another. For a movement to endure and even thrive, it must demand more from its constituents than a vague recognition that something, somehow, is seriously wrong, “like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad.” It must beget the process by which a shared consciousness of the relations producing said dissatisfaction can be reached. More basically, it necessitates a common political vocabulary to serve as the foundation through which people from all walks of life can begin to understand their own circumstances, why those circumstances exist, and what alternatives are possible and how they can be achieved.

Herein lies the central problem facing the modern American socialist project. While it is of course understood by all of us who are working to raise the class consciousness of our fellow Americans that people cannot meaningfully accept or reject the socialist project if they are divorced from it, the real issue is not just that Americans have been taught some incorrect definitions of socialism and now they live in fear due to this propaganda; it is that they have neither been given the tools nor the opportunity to break free of the ideological chains that confine them – to turn around and examine exactly who is producing the shadows on the wall for themselves and why. For this majority of Americans whose entire conception of socialism exists solely within a world comprised of these projected illusions, it will never be enough for someone who has seen outside the cave to begin convincing them by pointing at the shadows that they have already learned to fear.

This is why the particular language used in political discussions, as well as the tacit relationships between them, have tangible consequences. Consider terms commonly used by our figureheads today such as “freedom”, “small businesses”, “private property”, “middle class”, “opportunity”… A person may disagree with the particular details of each phrase, filtering them through the lenses of their own personal viewpoints as they do, but there still exists some level of shared intuitive understanding that automatically pops into their head as soon as they hear them. Together, these terms form the common political vocabulary through which Americans view and interact with their society. This is why two capitalist politicians might say different things yet still be generally understood – they do not need to individually explain every single idea that they have because people have already acquired the requisite language through socialization.

Socialists possess a rich lexicon as well, but too often it is first and foremost designed for and restricted to circles that are already explicitly socialist-friendly. Terminology such as “proletariat”, “bourgeoisie”, “means of production”, “surplus value”, “social democracy”, “Marxism-Leninism”, and the like are, of course, indispensable for any in-depth political discussion. But someone encountering socialist thought for the first time will likely not know that these concepts even exist, let alone how they relate to one another. A socialist should not have to begin each political dialogue by explaining what they mean by this idea or that term; our goal is to make such concepts as instinctively understood by the public as liberal capitalist phrases are. This leads to a strange asymmetry: the socialist project possesses an enormous theoretical tradition, but comparatively little in the way of material designed to introduce a contemporary, ordinary person to that breadth of development in a universally accessible, systematic way.

We often respond to genuine unfamiliarity with yet more unfamiliarity, clumsily entreating the curious to “Read this author (Marx, Bakunin, Lenin, etc.)”, “Check out this archive”, “Take this book, it explains everything.” Of course, theory necessarily has its place and should be read. But it serves an entirely different function than that of a comprehensible popular text. Our vast canon is not, in and of itself, a curriculum, and its existence does not preclude the need for a common point of entry into it. The building of socialism is a transformative undertaking of immense magnitude. Expecting every newcomer to independently reconstruct its basic principles from more than a century and a half of documents is making political education unnecessarily obtuse. Our ability to translate our core ideas regardless of audience must be refined.

It is imperative for socialists to acknowledge that the goal of political accessibility is in actuality an outgrowth of our ability to communicate our ideas effectively to the point where they can be reproduced by the public without even thinking. A person with a high-school education can come to wrap their head around sophisticated political arguments if those arguments are properly laid out and explained; a person with a PhD can encounter a political tradition whose basic jargon is entirely new to them. The question is not whether people are capable of appreciating socialism. The question is whether we have developed an avenue by which they can comfortably and unassumingly do so.

The earliest scientific socialist projects recognized this very well. They did not assume that every member of a socialist movement needed to become a professional scholar. They knew that one of the main prerequisites to the foundation of an enduring, far-reaching political organization that could begin to pursue its goals was not necessarily the furnishing of a deep historical and theoretical education to every single socialist party member but rather the establishment of a common political language that regular people could grasp even without direct supervision and that could serve as the basis from which all other revolutionary advancements could be made possible. As Eric Hobsbawm put it:

“The average member of a mass Marxist social-democratic party was not expected to pass examinations in theory. … the thirty-four English editions [of the Communist Manifesto] were published by and for the scattering of Marxist sects in the Anglo-Saxon world, operating on the left flank of such labour and socialist parties as existed. … In short, the readers of the Manifesto, though part of the new and rising socialist labour parties and movements, were almost certainly not a representative sample of their membership. They were men and women with a special interest in the theory that underlay such movements. This is probably still the case.”

This was one of the issues Friedrich Engels was looking to resolve in 1847. Before the Communist Manifesto, Engels produced a work called the Principles of Communism. Both of these documents were associated with the newly founded Communist League and sought to consolidate the organization's basic ideas into a form suitable for dissemination. The difference between these two texts is elucidative. The Manifesto is framed using a historical narrative. It situates communism within the development of European society, describes the rise of the bourgeoisie, analyzes the formation of the proletariat, and presents communism as the historical movement that emerges from the inherent contradictions within capitalism. By contrast, the Principles is structured as a catechism: a series of questions and answers used for instruction.

These choices of form were not accidental. Catechisms have a long history as instruments of popular instruction, particularly in religious traditions, but also in socialist ones. The question and answer format offered an accessible way to establish definitions, elucidate cardinal positions, and provide a common body of knowledge to initiates who may not be intimately familiar with the orthodoxy behind these ideas. While Engels ultimately became dissatisfied with the catechetical form, this does not make the pedagogical problem that Principles was trying to solve irrelevant. Indeed, it makes the distinction between the two documents even more illustrative for us. The contemporary left is already full of Manifesto equivalents: organizational programs, highly divisive factional platforms, and competing strategic visions. What it lacks is a widely used introductory text that anyone can refer to and which can precede those disagreements. We do not need yet another document aimed primarily at the already informed. What is really needed is a new text that most of us can get behind and that is directed towards the general population to carry out the same task as Principles while being based in and addressing the contemporary conditions of present-day America.

The history of American socialism itself supplies us with several examples of attempts to construct a popular political parlance for a mass audience. In the early 20th century, the socialist press was already reaching audiences that some of us might find difficult to imagine. Appeal to Reason, a Midwestern leftist newspaper founded in 1895 and later closely associated with the Socialist Party of America, had a weekly circulation of roughly 550,000 by 1910 (adjusted for the current population, this is equivalent to over 2 million people), making it the largest-circulation socialist newspaper in American history. Its success was due in large part to the fact that it employed a broadly accessible, conversational style of writing thanks to the work of figures such as Eugene Debs, Upton Sinclair, Jack London, Mother Jones, and Helen Keller. So too did pamphlets, speeches, cartoons, and music – especially as popularized by Joe Hill and the Industrial Workers of the World – all act not as mere secondary accessories in the service of books, but as standalone points of origin from which workers could start to understand their own circumstances. Contemporary socialists often forget this basic truth that our forebears understood well: a relatable and unambiguous style of political education that can reach anyone itself provides the fertile soil from which the tree of class consciousness can grow.

The Democratic Socialists of America (DSA) is now the largest socialist organization in American history, yet is still confronting this exact dilemma. Its National Political Committee promotes a train of thought that often conflicts with and is ignored by the organization’s own electeds, leading to predictable results. In Colorado, Melat Kiros believes that “We have socialism already. It’s in the roads we drive on, the schools we send our kids to, the fire stations we call upon.” In Pennsylvania, Chris Rabb argues that “In a purely capitalistic free market system, we would have no Social Security. We would have no Medicare. We would have no Medicaid. … This is not a purely capitalistic society. … Pure capitalism has never worked. Communism is not something that we've seen effectively work.” In Florida, when “asked if she’s a socialist,” Angie Nixon laughed and replied, “No, I own a business.” One label, yet two distinct expressions.

The recent Francesca Hong defeat reveals a related problem: even when socialist candidates emerge, the broader movement can struggle to consolidate around the socialist label and provide the necessary political commitments that a united front necessitates. While missteps in communication and a lack of TV ads likely played a part, as Nathan J. Robinson, editor-in-chief at Current Affairs, noted, “Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Bernie Sanders both refused to endorse Hong. … Since AOC and Bernie Sanders have immense power to motivate left voters, it is reasonable to think that their decision not to endorse or campaign for Hong is what made the difference. … Instead, on the eve of a critical primary, AOC waved away Hong’s remark by saying that ‘woke 1 was crazy,’ and made national news by talking about her decision to freeze her eggs. … The more of these kinds of petty failures of solidarity we see, the less likely the left is to achieve real political gains in this country.” 

The question, therefore, is why Sanders and AOC refused to consolidate behind Hong. One crucial reason is that the American socialist project has now grown large enough that we no longer have the luxury of assuming a shared political vocabulary. The lack of a broadly shared, baseline understanding of what socialism really means in modern-day America is creating this source of existential conflict that can be readily exploited by our opponents. Without a coherent response to such internal dissonance, the now-ascendant socialist movement will be forever limited to facilitating candidates whose goals only partially coincide with ours. This is what happens when a political movement grows, achieves relevance, and acquires influence faster than it can develop a unified political comprehension. This is a weakness of messaging derived from a lack of self-understanding, and it cannot be resolved by simply belaboring the working class to please read another thousand pages of theory.

There is no more relevant time to address this matter than now. With the 2028 election rapidly approaching and the specter of a potential AOC candidacy looming large over the national political conversation, the socialist movement may soon be confronted with this same predicament but on an even bigger scale. If she does run, regardless of the specifics of her campaign platform or whether socialists ultimately choose to support her or not, the gravity of such a scenario will force American socialists to confront the unavoidable question: what do we actually mean when we call ourselves socialists, and what are we really asking of people when we entreat them to stand alongside us?

A necessary part of the solution to this is for the socialist movement to create a new socialist primer modeled after the pedagogical purpose of Engels' Principles of Communism: a concise, universally accessible, contemporary document that defines what socialism means, explains what it seeks to accomplish, distinguishes itself from the prevailing neoliberal hegemony, and articulates a positive vision of what a socialist society would look like. This primer should be accessible enough that a person with no knowledge of socialist theory can begin reading from the first page and walk away with an understanding of the project by the end. At the same time, it should be rigorous enough that someone with an advanced comprehension of the topic can recognize the concepts being introduced and use the text as a future point of reference. It must tackle the questions that people would likely have in the order they would be likely to have them, e.g., “Why does it feel harder to get ahead than it did for previous generations?” “Is welfare socialism?” “Socialism sounds good in theory, but is it actually possible?”, “Isn’t socialism just communism?” “What would everyday life under socialism look like?” And it should ultimately answer the question that every political movement must answer: What kind of society are we trying to build?

This primer would not need to settle every disagreement amongst tendencies. It would not be a party program and would not claim that everyone who reads it will automatically become a socialist. The socialist movement does not need every member to agree on every question before it can act, but it does require them to command an awareness of what it is that they do agree on. This requires a mutual vocabulary. Before our movement can expect millions of workers to participate in changing society, it must give them the means to understand the nature of the society they are being asked to change – and what kind they would build in its place. This primer would not build the project on its own, but it would give it something it cannot continue to expand indefinitely without: a shared language through which people can understand one another, unite along their similarities, and explain to others what they are actually fighting for.

It is imperative that we take responsibility for this. As Thomas Paine once wrote, “The cause of America is in a great measure the cause of all mankind. Many circumstances hath, and will arise, which are not local, but universal, and through which the principles of all Lovers of Mankind are affected, and in the Event of which, their Affections are interested.” Today, America is still the hegemon of the world. Our struggles are the world’s struggles; our successes will be the world’s successes. And much like how Paine did not invent the anti-monarchist and pro-independence sentiments that made the American Revolution possible, instead focusing on constructing a horizon within which ordinary people could interpret those views as part of a shared political project, so too can American socialism not become the mass political project that it must be by ignoring its internal contradictions; it can only keep advancing in this direction by becoming intelligible to all. By becoming a movement that is understood and shaped by and for the many, it can finally tap into the almighty potential that it has always been in possession of and become the force that shapes the world for the better.

If you are a member of NYC-DSA, you can read the proposal for this new primer here and cosign it here before 9/14.