Perhaps you’ve heard the term “dialectic” but you’re unfamiliar with it or what it means. The dialectic is a process that’s often misunderstood, but it’s one of the most effective tools for societal and institutional decline ever devised.
Imagine a pendulum, suspended above a grand structure, where each swing of the pendulum represents the clash of ideas, pushing back and forth between opposing views. But unlike a true pendulum, which returns to its starting point in a neat, mechanical rhythm, this one is rigged.
Now imagine that it’s slowly being pulled, ever so slightly, toward one side, gaining momentum with every swing. The pendulum smashes into one side—conservatism, let’s say—and it pushes back. But as it swings again, it never quite returns to where it started. No, it’s dragged further left each time, until what was once a strong, principled foundation is slowly chipped away, bit by bit.
Of course, this isn’t just an abstract concept reserved for intellectual debate. The dialectic is an invisible strategy at work everywhere—in politics, in religion, in culture. It’s the force that takes two opposing ideas, slams them together, and then synthesizes them into something new. It’s the mechanism behind the “Overton Window” shift. The synthesis is never neutral. It’s always a compromise that leans toward the side with the most momentum—typically the left in today’s society.
Let’s look at an example of the dialectic being played out in the issue of abortion. On the one side, you have true conservatives who believe in the sanctity of life, who believe that unborn children are human beings, made in the Image of God, worthy of equal protection under the law and that anyone who commits murder, including the mothers, should be held accountable for that crime. That’s the most conservative position on abortion.
On the other hand, you have the most progressive position, where abortion activists argue that unborn children are just “clumps of cells” with absolutely no right to life, and are essentially disposable commodities at the mercy of the abortion industrial complex and the will of the mother who has the “sole right” to determine what to do with “her body” with absolutely no limitations on gestational age.
Over time, through the election cycles, you have the pendulum swinging back and forth, approaching these two extremes, and where do we land? We land left of center, where “conservatives” now embrace “safe legal and rare” and endorse compromised heartbeat bills, exceptions for rape and incest, and Southern Baptist leaders lobbying against anti-abortion legislation—positions that conservatives would have rejected outright just a decade ago.
It’s like watching a rigged boxing match, where one fighter is allowed to throw knockout punches, while the other is barely allowed to tap back. Every round goes the same … the one with more power dominates, and the fight is rigged to push the final outcome further toward their goal.
The result? Each time the pendulum swings, we lose a little more ground. We inch closer to a point where the original, solid foundation—whether it's political conservatism, biblical truth, or cultural stability—is eroded beyond recognition. This process isn’t about finding truth or balance, it’s about slowly, methodically shifting the boundaries until the original position is left in the dust.
The dialectic is a tool, of conquest and its entire purpose is to drag everything to one side—while pretending it’s all just part of a reasonable conversation. This is how it works in our national discourse, in our churches, in our laws. It’s slow, steady, and deliberate. And, worse yet, most people don't even see it happening.
With that picture in mind, let's dive into how this sinister mechanism is playing out in politics today—especially within the Republican Party, where weak leadership has turned the party into little more than a rubber stamp for leftist agendas.
Let’s start with the Republicans, the “defenders of conservatism”—the self-proclaimed “champions” of limited government, liberty, and truth. Or so they say. Every election cycle, they trot out their newest hero, promising that this time they’ll stand firm.
How many “conservative” Speakers of the House have been through in the last few years? Mike Johnson is the latest in a long line of these so called “conservative” leaders who can’t seem to find their spine when it matters most. Johnson came in, sword in hand, ready to do battle with the forces of leftism—or so we were told. But, in no time at all, that sword became a rubber stick, bending and wobbling in the face of any serious opposition.
Most recently, Johnson is caving on the SAVE Act, a bill that should be a no-brainer for any true conservative concerned about the future of free and fair elections. Johnson is playing footsie with the left, throwing conservatives under the bus on the very integrity of our democratic process.
Election security is the linchpin of a functioning republic, yet here we are—watching another Republican leader buckle, fold, and collapse like a cheap lawn chair. And why? Because the dialectic demands it. Because the so-called "middle ground" is nothing more than quicksand, swallowing up any semblance of conservative conviction.
Is this leadership? Or is it capitulation in slow motion? How many times do we need to see Republicans go through this charade before we recognize the pattern? They give speeches, make promises, and then—when it’s time to act—they wilt under the pressure like sunburned daisies. This isn’t leadership—it’s an embarrassment. And Johnson isn’t wielding power, he’s handing it over on a silver platter. The pendulum swings, but the direction is always the same—leftward. Always leftward. And the right, ever so eager to compromise, gives up more ground with each swing.
But if you think politics is the only place where this dialectical disaster is unfolding, think again. The church—the one institution that should be immune to this madness—is no exception. Just look at the Southern Baptist Convention. Once a stronghold of conservativism (remember those days?), now it's nothing more than a casualty of the very same dialectic that has crippled the political right.
The SBC, at least since the conservative resurgence (the former pendulum swing) used to stand firm on the inerrancy of Scripture, the exclusivity of the gospel, and biblical roles for men and women. But today? The pendulum has swung again, and what do we see? Wokeness, racial identity politics, and—of course—ladypastrixes popping up in pulpits across the country.