"Conservatism for Punks" for Punks

Todd Seavey has pointed out that he and I like punk rock for entirely opposite reasons—Todd because it's individualistic, me because it's "rule-bound and tribalistic." In other words, it's fifteen rounds of punk libertarianism vs. punk traditionalism.

To understand why I am so quick to read conservatism into punk rock, take a quick look at this story of someone of "falling in love with Punk Rock," which came to me third-hand:

I fell in love with Punk Rock when I was 13 years old and snuck into a club because my classmate was sleeping with the bouncer. It was a subculture defined by rigid rules which allowed for great expression, an overwhelming ethic, high expectations, and a bareknuckled willingness for confrontation. I'll never forget that first show—seeing a guy go down hard after taking an elbow in the face, then watching him get picked up by some guy he'd never met before who said to him: "You okay? You able to walk? Good, then get back in the pit and punch somebody."

"Rigid rules which allowed for great expression"; "an overwhelming ethic"; "high expectations": about as trad as one can be short of hauling out the Pope.

I like that punk is torn between strict enforcement of its own rules on one hand and knee-jerk opposition to rules at all on the other; it's a helpful tension, and Todd seems to agree. However, I don't think his understanding of the punk coin's traditional side is quite right:

. . . the means of squaring the circle here (or scrawling a sloppy “A” in the circle, if you will), for political purposes, is to recognize that we should appreciate both the comfort people find from immersion in densely rule-bound communities and their freedom to leave such communities, the latter facilitated by not turning such communities’ particular rules into actual laws enforced by cops.

Todd can make me acknowledge the fact that some people "find comfort" in tradition, but he can't make me like it. If your traditionalism makes you comfortable, you're doing it wrong.

I'm sure it's psychologically soothing to behold a vast sea of bobbing mohawks and know that you belong, but the traditions of punk get a lot less comforting when you go beyond the dress code. The kind of person drawn to punk is probably pretty tough, but the punk ethos demands they be tougher. They probably have the beginnings of self-discipline, but the tradition demands that they have more. They're probably independent-minded, but the tradition demands that they sacrifice their last remaining attachments to conventional respectability. Punk, like all traditions, comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comfortable.

But what do I know? I'm listening to Steely Dan right now. (James is wrong, by the way. Jose Cuervo, you are a friend of mine.)

IMPORTANT BONUS: Todd's instinct is to weaken the social pressures that keep people within their traditions and communities, but, given his conservative disposition, he's happiest when people make the choice to "stay on the farm." My instinct is just the opposite: I think that traditional communities should exert considerable pressure on their inhabitants, but I'm secretly delighted when the occasional exception lights out for the big city (i.e. heads to Brooklyn to become a writer). Does this shed any light on our respective readings of punk rock, and which of us is right? For the record, Florence King agrees with me. A Southern family may worry that Mary Lou will "go hog wild" once she heads north, but eventually:

. . . if she stays in New York long enough, the family will decide that she is an eccentric, which is the nicest thing any Southern family can say about one of their own.