Posted on 02/14/2025 6:04:51 PM PST by TBP
Today is Valentine’s Day That curious annual observance in which devotion is expressed through the anxious purchase of price-gouged floral arrangements, hastily procured chocolates, and the strange, obligatory recitation of Hallmark-approved sentimentality. It is a day that manages, quite impressively, to inspire both grandiloquent displays of affection and a certain reflexive cynicism—two forces locked in a perpetual waltz, each as predictable as the other.
And yet, for all the performative absurdities, for all the ways in which a natural and noble sentiment is commodified into some lurid facsimile of itself, we conservatives would do well to resist the temptation to dismiss the enterprise entirely. Indeed, Valentine’s Day serves a function that is, in its own way, rather conservative: it is a reminder. Much as the rising of the debt ceiling is less an act of fiscal prudence than an occasion to contemplate how extravagantly we have spent, so too is Valentine’s Day less about the actual procurement of roses than about pausing to consider what, or rather whom, we love.
History
Valentine’s Day, as with so many traditions that have survived the centuries, did not emerge fully formed from the fevered imaginations of greeting card manufacturers, nor was it conceived in the boardrooms of confectionary conglomerates. No, its origins—fittingly enough—are shrouded in both history and legend, resting somewhere between ancient martyrdom and medieval courtly love.
The most popular account traces the holiday to St. Valentine, or rather, a confounding multitude of them. The historical record suggests there were at least two (possibly three) Christian martyrs bearing the name Valentine, each allegedly executed by the Roman authorities for acts of defiance—one for secretly officiating marriages for young lovers in defiance of imperial decree, another for aiding persecuted Christians. Their feast day, February 14, was set by the early Church, perhaps not coincidentally, on the same month as the pagan festival of Lupercalia—a raucous, fertility-centered revelry that the Church, in its wisdom, sought to subsume into something a bit more respectable.
It was not until the Middle Ages, however, that Valentine’s Day took on its romantic associations. Geoffrey Chaucer, ever the literary mischief-maker, is credited with the first explicit link between February 14 and amorous pursuits, writing in The Parlement of Foules that it was “on Seynt Valentynes day—Ye Olde English is a pain to read so bear with me— Whan every foul cometh ther to chese his make.” I know, I know, probably the most romantic thing you’ve ever read. right? From there, the tradition of love letters, tokens of affection, and whispered courtships took root, flourishing in the age of chivalry.
By the time it reached our era, the holiday had undergone its inevitable capitalist transformation, its sincerity frequently obscured by a cloud of factory-produced sentimentality and artificial expectation. But here is where we conservatives must resist the temptation of easy cynicism. Yes, Valentine’s Day is commercialized. Yes, the obligatory performances of affection often border on the absurd. But to scoff too easily, to reject outright the need for a day devoted to love, is to risk something far worse. It is to let cynicism slide into nihilism, to shrug off as frivolous what ought to be cherished, and to ignore the deeper reason we mark the occasion in the first place.
But here is where the cynic interjects. “It’s all a charade,” he grumbles. “A cheap, gaudy affair, designed to separate the sentimental fool from his wallet.” Yes, yes, we know the argument well. And if one wishes to retreat into that particular brand of derision, there is no shortage of evidence to support it. But one has to be careful with cynicism, for while it may begin as an expression of weary realism, it is a short journey from there to something far darker. A reflexive rejection of the holiday is, in essence, a rejection of the impulse to mark and celebrate love itself. The inclination to scoff at expressions of devotion—even those wrapped in red cellophane—ultimately erodes into something corrosive, something resembling nihilism.
And nihilism, dear reader, is the very thing conservatism must always resist. Ours is not the worldview of joyless reductionism. We do not believe in discarding institutions because they have been imperfectly preserved, nor do we see human traditions as disposable trifles. We believe, instead, in restoration. In preservation. In the continual, deliberate effort to find what is meaningful and to safeguard it against the forces that would dissolve it into irrelevance.
That is why, even in a world of manufactured romance, it is our duty to find and uphold the beauty in the holiday. Not because the market demands it, but because love itself, properly understood, is an essential part of what we seek to conserve. Love, after all, is more than a sentiment. It is a discipline. A habit. An act of the will as much as of the heart. The traditions we mock today may be the very ones that, if properly cultivated, sustain us tomorrow.
So I say, let the cynics scoff. Let them mutter about the price of roses and the absurdity of prix fixe menus. But let us take the wiser course. Let us reclaim the occasion—not as a mere indulgence, nor as a compulsory ritual, but as a reminder to love well and deliberately. Spend time with those you love, or those you may one day come to love. Do not dwell on the excesses of the holiday, but rather on its foundation: the recognition that love, like all things of value, must be nurtured and reaffirmed.
In the end, love, like conservatism itself, is an act of preservation. In fact what is conservatism if not the act of love for our entire western tradition. And just as we do not surrender our institutions to decay simply because they have been mismanaged, neither should we abandon the rituals that remind us to cherish what is good and beautiful. The world has enough cynicism; it does not need more. What it does need—what we need—is the wisdom to see beyond the cheap exterior and recognize the deeper truth within. And if it takes a red envelope, a handwritten note, or an overpriced bouquet to bring us back to that truth, well, there are worse investments one could make.
I like it.
Nihilism is a deadly adversary.
Valentine is Commemorated as a Saint by the holy Orthodox Church, albeit on July 11:
Conservatives are true conservationists.
Conserving our borders.
Conserving our culture.
Conserving our ethos.
Conserving our resources.
Commenting on Valentines Day is like commenting on a Rorschach ink blot. It doesn’t tell you anything about the ink blot, it just tells you about the person commenting.
On Valentine's Day 1930, The Man from the South, a song supposedly about Al Capone, was #1.
Conserving our Constitution.
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