Nicolás Gómez Dávila's political philosophy: A critique of modernity

Are we losing more than we gain in the name of progress? Colombian philosopher Nicolás Gómez Dávila (1913-1994) thought so. He argued that the modern pursuit of comfort, efficiency, and autonomy comes at a hidden cost—the erosion of timeless values and spiritual depth. Rather than fitting into typical left- or right-wing politics, Dávila’s reactionary philosophy questions the very foundations of modernity. Our relentless drive for progress may be blinding us to what truly gives life meaning.

To Dávila, being a "reactionary" was about defending enduring spiritual values against what he saw as the hollow promises of modern culture. He famously warned, “Cultures wither when their religious foundations dissolve.” Societies lose their depth and become shallow and materialistic when they forget their spiritual core. “Where Christianity vanishes, greed, envy, and lust invent a thousand ideologies to justify themselves.” According to Dávila, once spiritual values disappear, they’re quickly replaced by ideologies that serve as rationalizations for humanity's darkest urges. It’s easy to see his point in today’s world, where materialism and self-interest often overshadow deeper values, whether in politics, consumerism, or popular culture.

Critique of left and right

Dávila leveled a thorough critique against ideologies of both the left and right. For him, the failures of the 20th century’s extremes—fascism, communism, and other political projects—were deeply troubling. But even more troubling was society’s willingness to move on from these failures without much reflection. Modern systems reveal an unsettling truth: that in the name of progress, people are often dehumanized, and capitalism and communism share similar materialist assumptions.

He observed, “The greatest modern error is not the idea of a dead God but the belief that the devil is dead.” Here, Dávila pointed to the modern denial of evil as a greater danger than simple loss of faith. Recognizing the darker sides of human nature, he believed, was essential to prevent harmful patterns from taking root in society.

He also wrote that “If man will not be disciplined by the gods, he will be disciplined by demons.” Without spiritual self-restraint, people often end up controlled by destructive forces—sometimes of their own making.

Democracy vs. true authority

Dávila was deeply skeptical of democracy, which he felt dangerously elevated humanity’s own authority above any divine order: “‘By the grace of God’ limited the monarch’s power; the ‘people’s representative’ is the symbol of absolute absolutism.” Democracy enshrined human authority based solely on popular choice, ignoring any higher moral order. True authority, he believed, comes from acknowledging a higher, spiritual source—something democracy inherently overlooks.

He thought the reactionary thinker had little common ground with the democrat: “The reactionary’s discussion with the democrat is sterile, for they have nothing in common; however, a discussion with the liberal may be fruitful, for they share some common ground.” The state’s role wasn’t to create new rights or legislate on impulse but to uphold moral standards that maintain balance in society—something he felt modern democracy often failed to understand.

The modern crisis

Modernity itself is the crisis—not any government or ideology, but the entire secular, self-sufficient approach of modern life. He famously remarked, “In a century where the media publish endless stupidities, the cultured man is defined not by what he knows but by what he ignores.” This feels especially real today. Dávila believed our obsession with material progress blinds us to real wisdom, leaving us with a flood of trivial knowledge but no deep understanding. It’s hard not to think about how much of our daily “information”—news feeds, social media, entertainment—is actually just noise.

He saw this crisis spreading throughout society: politics had devolved into empty technical solutions, real cultural values had eroded, and even wisdom was reduced to surface-level knowledge. “The world today is flooded with useless, ugly, stupid technical things; every beauty is sacrificed to some supposed comfort,” he lamented. His critique of technology’s spread at the expense of beauty and depth feels more relevant now than ever. After all, are we really any better off when beauty and quality are sacrificed for convenience?

Dávila also observed that modern people will take on almost any burden “so long as the hand imposing it is impersonal.” In other words, as long as control feels distant or bureaucratic, people accept it without questioning how it affects their freedom. This observation is so true, especially when we think about how willing people are to follow policies and regulations as long as they feel “official.”

He also saw morality shifting, with both virtue and vice trivialized. He wrote, “After virtue, this century has put vice out of fashion. Perversions have become suburban parks where the masses stroll comfortably.” Modernity had reduced both virtues and vices to casual choices, stripping them of their deeper moral significance.

The reactionary solution

Instead of calling for a specific political agenda, Dávila’s response was subtler yet perhaps more radical: a return to intellectual and spiritual roots. He believed that real resistance lay in holding onto lasting values rather than being swept up by fleeting trends. “I distrust every idea that doesn’t seem obsolete and grotesque to my contemporaries,” he remarked.

Dávila even saw industrialization as part of the problem, observing that “Civilization reaches its end when agriculture ceases to be a way of life and becomes an industry.” The mechanization of everything stripped life of its natural rhythms and sense of connectedness, erasing the richness that comes from traditional ways of living.

Everything he criticizes sounds familiar, doesn’t It?