Brendon Westler’s work revisits José Ortega y Gasset, one of Spain’s most influential 20th-century philosophers. It is a welcome contribution to scholarship on a thinker whose reflections on society, liberalism, and the challenges of mass democracy remain strikingly relevant today. Ortega’s incisive analyses and warnings resonate with modern times, and Westler’s book offers a useful framework for reexamining contemporary issues through his perspective.
A notable strength of the book is its exploration of Spain’s liberal philosophical tradition, which is often overshadowed in broader discussions of European political thought. The introduction and first chapter provide valuable historical context, delving into the rich but underexplored tradition of Spanish scholastic liberalism. The second chapter connects Ortega’s philosophy to the 1912 constitution and the Krausist intellectual movement, while chapters three and four focus on the philosopher’s insights into the relationship between the individual and the community, as well as his vision of a “European solution” for Spain’s unique challenges. The concluding chapter aptly situates Ortega’s political thought in a time of crisis, drawing parallels to our own era.
Westler interprets Ortega’s liberalism as a balanced integration of the classical emphasis on civic participation and the modern focus on individual rights. He rejects the single-minded pursuit of individual liberties and the idea that liberalism’s primary task is merely to preserve the private sphere—a hallmark of the Anglo-American tradition. Thus, Westler argues that Ortega’s eclectic liberalism bridges the continental tradition and the Anglo-American approach (p. 9-10). He contends that Ortega’s insights are particularly relevant today because they offer a counterbalance to the pervasive antielitism and antipluralism of our era. At the heart of Ortega’s critique is the concept of mass society, or the “revolt of the masses,” where the disconnected “average man” seeks power without the capacity to partake in a collective project. He warns that this revolt, reflected in fascism and Bolshevism, shapes culture, religion, and intellectual life, fostering inauthenticity and decline. In response, Ortega calls for a disciplined, engaged minority—“select men”—to uphold historical continuity and guide society toward a meaningful future. Severing ties with the past, he cautions, erodes personal authenticity and weakens liberal democracy, leaving societies vulnerable to populist extremes. Westler argues that, by addressing the tribalism and the average citizen’s reluctance to engage in meaningful political dialogue, Ortega’s thought underscores the necessity of a pluralistic and cooperative spirit for sustaining a healthy liberal democracy (p. 5).
One of the book’s more debatable theses, however, is its framing of Ortega as fundamentally a liberal. While Ortega shares key similarities with many Spanish liberal thinkers, such a characterization becomes more challenging when Ortega is compared to Anglo-Saxon liberal traditions. A more nuanced approach might have highlighted the distinctiveness of Ortega’s liberalism, which departs from conventional doctrines in several ways. Unlike Anglo liberals who tended to reject both radical politics and conservative attachments alike, he worked throughout his life to reconcile left and right perspectives. All too often Ortega opted for the conservative approach, owing to one historical circumstance or another.
To fully appreciate these tensions animating Ortega’s political philosophy, it is essential to situate him within the debates of his time—this, in fact, is part of the Orteguian method of thinking according to circumstances. Westler does well to emphasize Ortega’s rejection of ideological extremes, as he famously described both the left and the right as forms of “moral hemiplegia.” (Hemiplegia occurs when one side of the body experiences paralysis.) However, a historical perspective reveals Ortega’s gradual shift toward conservatism during the 1920s. As illustrated by his identification with Mirabeau in a well-known 1927 essay (“Mirabeau o el politico”), Ortega tried to work out the squaring of the circle when faced with mass politics: to push the revolution and at the same time manage the brake on this radical impulse.
Ortega’s two brief engagements with leftist politics illustrate his ambivalence toward radical ideologies. In 1908, he declared himself a socialist in an attempt to guide the party intellectually. However, his elitist and inegalitarian interpretation of socialism drew criticism from Partido Socialista Obrero Español leaders, prompting him to align with liberalism by 1912. By the publication of España invertebrada a decade later, however, Ortega had embraced the intellectual neoconservatism of the interwar period, characterized by a cyclical view of history, critiques of modernity, aristocratic elitism, and nostalgia for preindustrial society. These traits reflect the influence of both French doctrinaire liberals and German philosophers such as Friedrich Nietzsche, Eduard von Hartmann, Martin Heidegger, and others.
Ortega’s second political engagement came during the Spanish Second Republic in 1931. Alongside prominent intellectuals like Gregorio Marañón and Ramón Pérez de Ayala, he founded the Association for the Defense of the Republic to challenge the monarchy. However, he soon grew disillusioned, famously declaring, “This is not it, this is not it!” in a critique of the Republic’s trajectory. Disheartened, Ortega withdrew from politics, facing public criticism from figures such as Manuel Azaña and Luis Araquistáin. Ironically, his work gained a more favorable reception during Franco’s regime, particularly through his disciple Julián Marías. While some reactionaries and clergy were critical, conservative thinkers like Gonzalo Fernández de la Mora embraced Ortega’s philosophy.
In fact, Ortega’s vision of politics was less about theoretical postulation and more about practical critique aimed at reforming mass democracy, including a critical engagement with some conservative perspectives. His theory of elites was rooted in his philosophy of life as “radical reality”—a concept Ortega used to describe the fundamental condition of human existence where individuals must confront life as it truly is, without illusions, and take responsibility for shaping their own destinies—and emphasized inherent intellectual and moral inequalities as the bedrock of society. For Ortega, the “select minority” earned its legitimacy through effort and self-discipline and should influence the masses to refine their values and judgments. In his view, democracy’s foundation was liberty rather than equality, including the right to resist democratic power. His 1917 article, “Morbid Democracy,” exemplifies this tension and suggests that Ortega was not a democrat in the modern sense.
Westler’s book effectively highlights Ortega’s aristocratism and his skepticism of political radicalism and revolution. However, it could have better explored how these aspects reflect a fundamentally conservative outlook, particularly with respect to Ortega’s views on social justice. For example, Ortega rejected simplistic redistribution and “aristophobia,” favoring instead a nationalist conservatism that prioritized intellectual and moral excellence over mass equality. In turn, while Westler draws compelling connections between Ortega’s ideas and contemporary issues like populism, this comparison can feel somewhat strained. Populism, as understood today, does not entirely map onto Ortega’s context or concerns. A more focused examination of Ortega’s critiques of mass society might have been more fruitful.
Westler’s attempt to provide a hermeneutic reading that unifies Ortega’s seemingly disparate ideas is ambitious, yet the result is somewhat predictable. The book occasionally feels conventional in its presentation, often summarizing well-trodden interpretations of Ortega’s work rather than offering fresh insights. This may reflect Westler’s attempt to present Ortega for English-speaking audiences. However, the book could have benefited from a deeper engagement with Spanish historiography and with Ortega’s intellectual context. Figures like Julián Marías and María Zambrano, key disciples of Ortega, receive minimal attention. Additionally, Westler overlooks the significance of Ortega’s personal circumstances. For instance, while the book downplays the 19th-century Church-state conflicts in Spain, such as Mendizábal’s ecclesiastical confiscations and the Carlist wars, these events profoundly shaped the country’s liberal tradition. Raised in a Catholic environment, Ortega openly rejected the Church´s dominant role in Spanish society, distancing him from traditionalist conservatism and reinforcing his focus on individual freedom—a theme substantially influenced, nevertheless, by his exposure to the history and philosophy of religion.
Despite its limitations, Westler’s book provides a valuable entry point into Ortega’s political philosophy and its relevance to contemporary thought. As a programmatic work, it introduces several key principles for rational thinking during times of crisis: prioritizing forward-looking solutions, fostering concord over polarization, and maintaining the “serenity” to think clearly amidst challenges. Westler effectively highlights Ortega’s lasting significance, particularly his critique of mass society and his exploration of the delicate balance between liberty and equality. Future research could build on these contributions by offering a more nuanced, historically informed analysis of Ortega’s ideas, placing them more deeply within their intellectual and cultural context.
