Ostensibly rigorous and realistic, contemporary conservatism is

In the words of Christopher Lasch, the historian and cultural critic who dissected the illusions of modern life, we hear a sharp and unsettling truth: “Ostensibly rigorous and realistic, contemporary conservatism is an ideology of denial. Its symbol is a smile button.” With this phrase, Lasch unmasks the contradiction he perceived at the heart of his age. That which claims to be strong, hard-headed, and anchored in reality is, he declares, an edifice built upon refusal to see clearly. And its emblem is not the sword, nor the scales of justice, but a smile button—the bright mask of forced optimism covering the shadows beneath.

The smile button, familiar to the twentieth century, was the symbol of a culture that feared despair and sought to plaster over its anxieties with false cheer. It was a little face of yellow, bearing a wide grin, worn as if to say: “All is well, all must be well.” But Lasch, with his prophetic voice, reminds us that such symbols are not proof of happiness—they are the very evidence of its absence. Where people must wear the smile as a badge, there joy has already fled, replaced by denial. So too, he argued, with political ideologies that proclaim themselves “rigorous” while refusing to reckon with the true costs of their illusions.

The ancients would have recognized this danger. The Stoics warned against the temptation to deny suffering with false calm, urging instead the confrontation of hardship with clarity and courage. Likewise, Plato taught that societies fall when they worship appearances rather than truth. To bear a smile button while the house burns is to dwell in illusion; to remove it and face the flames with open eyes is the beginning of wisdom. Lasch’s metaphor strikes at this eternal tension between denial and reality.

History provides us with many examples. Consider the late years of the Roman Empire, when emperors staged ever more elaborate games and festivals to distract the people from decay. The Colosseum, with its laughter and spectacle, became the empire’s smile button—a bright symbol meant to obscure the weakness of the state. Citizens cheered as if Rome still ruled unchallenged, even as corruption hollowed it from within. That denial delayed reform, and in time, the empire’s ruin was complete. Lasch warns us that when ideologies cling to denial with smiling symbols, they walk the same path.

Yet we must also see that his words are not merely condemnation but a call to courage. The smile button reminds us of the temptation we all face: to hide our weaknesses with masks of cheer, to silence discomfort with slogans, to deny our fragility by pretending all is well. But if an individual, like a nation, refuses to confront truth, they cannot grow strong. Only by setting aside the false smile and looking clearly into the storm can one find resilience that is real and enduring.

The lesson for us is plain: beware the comfort of illusions. Do not cover your struggles with masks, nor allow yourself to be lulled by slogans or symbols of hollow cheer. Instead, practice the harder way—the way of honesty, self-examination, and courage. Let your smile be real, born not of denial but of endurance, of having faced the darkness and chosen light. And when you encounter leaders or movements that hide their frailty behind false optimism, remember Lasch’s warning: the brighter the badge, the deeper the denial.

So take this wisdom into your life. Strip away the smile button when it tempts you to ignore what is broken. Face your fears, face your weakness, face the truth of the times in which you live. Only then can your hope be real and your joy enduring. For the ancients would remind us: the man who looks into the storm with open eyes stands stronger than the one who hides beneath a painted grin. And the nation, like the soul, that dares to face truth, even when bitter, can yet be saved.