It was the great Christian apologist C.S. Lewis who once observed that “We do not want merely to see beauty… We want something else which can hardly be put into words—to be united with the beauty we see.” Art, indeed, is one of the highest gifts God has given us. It brings beauty into the world. It gives shape to thoughts we don’t have words for. It connects people across cultures, generations, and beliefs. Not everything in life can be solved with policy or measured in profit. Some things are meant to be experienced, not explained. Art speaks when we have no arguments left. At its best, it doesn’t just decorate a civilization—it defines one. Which is why it’s so troubling that so many conservatives have learned to treat it with suspicion, or worse, indifference.
The tension between conservatives and the art world is real, and it’s not entirely imagined. The modern art establishment—especially in places like Hollywood and New York—can be hostile to conservative values. It often rewards those who push past boundaries, while conservatism is, by nature, about honoring them. There is a real sense that you can get further in certain circles by mocking faith and Middle America than by respecting them. And for many conservatives, especially men, the arts—poetry, dance, musicals—don’t feel “masculine” in the way sports or physical labor do, nor “rational” in the way economics and policymaking do. That alienation is understandable.
But it’s also dangerous.
By retreating from the arts, conservatives haven’t just avoided being offended—we’ve surrendered influence. We’ve left the cultural conversation to those who don’t share our values, and then we act surprised when the art that emerges reflects that reality. We lose all influence by withdrawing, and more than that, we deny ourselves the company—and joy—of the community we’re leaving behind.
This abandonment has also cost us spiritually. Conservatives rightly value tradition, order, reverence, and truth. But these are not just intellectual or political concepts—they are also aesthetic ones. A beautiful painting can express them. A stirring poem can awaken them. A powerful film can plant seeds in the heart that no policy whitepaper ever could. The arts offer a broader life experience, a deeper sense of community, and a way of learning more about ourselves and each other. We’ve seen how sports unite people—why shouldn’t art?
What we need isn’t “Republican art,” but redemptive art—art that affirms life, embraces beauty, rejects nihilism, and turns away from the empty promises of sex, drugs, and self-indulgence. We need art that educates, that uplifts, that reminds us who we are and why we are. Art that doesn’t just entertain, but inspires. Art that celebrates the dignity of man, the goodness of creation, and the mystery of the divine.
But more than that, I’m not asking conservatives to engage with the arts only as a strategic move—to shape narratives or reclaim lost ground. I’m asking us to do it for our own sake. To experience the beauty, insight, and creativity of others—not just those who think like us, but especially those who don’t. That kind of encounter can be transformative. It broadens horizons and deepens empathy. And paradoxically, by stepping into someone else’s story, we often find pieces of our own. In that way, art doesn’t just challenge us—it unites us. And when we ignore it, we don’t just lose influence—we cheat ourselves out of something sacred. There is something inside each of us that longs for transcendence, that is stirred by music, poetry, color, form, and movement. When that longing goes unfed, something in us grows cold and quiet. And that “something”—whatever we want to call it—is very much like the voice of God. Perhaps it is the voice of God. Or at least something He placed in us, to draw us back to Himself through beauty. I don’t know that we can understand and know an infinite God with words only. Some things just have to be experienced.
And so I say this:
To the artists and storytellers who have felt scorned or stereotyped by the political right: I hope this essay reaches you in a spirit of goodwill. Many conservatives, myself included, are not enemies of art—we are admirers of it, and you, from a distance, sometimes unsure how to engage, often afraid we won’t be welcomed. But we want to. We’re hungry for meaning, beauty, and transcendence too. We want to build something together that’s greater than ourselves.
And to my fellow conservatives: if we truly want to shape the culture, and ourselves, we have to stop mocking art and start participating in it—by creating it, funding it, supporting it, and simply showing up to experience it. Go to the play. Visit the museum. Read the poem. Watch the film. Go to a play and sit next to weirdos. They’re thinking the same thing about you. Then hang out by the stage door together and meet the cast afterwards. Don’t just consume—commune. Join the conversation. Bring your values to it. And listen with humility when others bring theirs, not just with your ears, but with your whole being.
If a fellow conservative scoffs at this idea, I would simply remind them: God gave us eyes to see, ears to hear, and a mind to create and appreciate. He gave us beauty not just to survive this world, but to enjoy it—and to enjoy it with each other. Art is part of that design. Let’s not deprive ourselves—or each other—of the beauty we were made to share.
