Timothy Snyder may not be well known in American conservative circles, but his European influence is substantial. I hadn’t heard of the Yale historian until I moved to Vienna, Austria, where he enjoys a kind of celebrity status. European leaders frequently refer to his ideas, whether they are criticizing Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency or comparing JD Vance’s criticism of censorship at the Munich Security Conference last month to the Holocaust. These talking points have crossed the Atlantic, reaching U.S. media through figures like CBS News moderator Margaret Brennan. Snyder’s influence among the American left continues to grow.

I recently attended Snyder’s “Making Sense of an Unsettling World” lecture at Vienna’s Institute for Human Sciences. His casual demeanor, paired with a Zelenskyy-style quarter-zip — a nod to the Ukrainian leader he has met and advised — reinforces his “rebel professor” image. This blend of defiance and intellect captivates and galvanizes college students, making Snyder both a compelling and polarizing figure.

Snyder’s call to 'defend institutions' fails to recognize that institutions can be corrupt, bloated, and unaccountable.

After the predictable barrage of ad hominem attacks on Trump — of which there were many — Snyder shifted his focus to the most controversial figure in the administration: Elon Musk. As Snyder spoke, I couldn’t help but notice the vast ideological divide between the left and the right. This gap felt particularly sobering, not just because of its seemingly unbridgeable nature but also because Snyder's perspective undermines the very foundation necessary to bridge such divides: dissent and dialogue enabled by free speech.

Snyder accuses Musk of building a privatized, fascistic government by dismantling America's institutions. According to Snyder, we common folk are mere pawns in Musk’s algorithmic “system,” which he claims is designed to predict and manipulate human behavior. The goal, Snyder argues, is clear: to destroy institutions, privatize government functions, and siphon taxpayer dollars into Musk’s pockets.

Negative vs. positive freedom

Snyder’s argument centers on a critique of the conservative notion of “negative freedom” — the idea that freedom is best preserved by minimizing external restraints on the individual. He dismisses this concept as “freedom against,” portraying it as a tool ripe for exploitation by figures like Elon Musk. In Snyder's view, Musk uses this version of freedom to turn the masses “against” institutions, only to privatize them for personal gain later.

In contrast, Snyder champions the left-leaning principle of “positive freedom,” or “freedom for.”This approach suggests that freedom is only legitimate when exercised in service of ideals codified and enforced through institutions. According to Snyder's 2016 manifesto, which evolved into his New York Times best-selling pamphlet "On Tyranny," institutions “preserve human decency” and serve as the greatest barriers to tyranny. In this framework, Musk emerges as Snyder’s villain, a modern-day figure following in the footsteps of 20th-century fascists who dismantled institutions to consolidate power.

Institutions need accountability

Snyder’s alarmism about Musk exposes the deep divide between the left and right on the nature of freedom and the role of institutions. While critiques of corporate and political power are valid, Snyder’s perspective assumes that institutions should be defended without question, a stance that conflicts with conservatives’ healthy skepticism of concentrated power — a skepticism the left once shared.

Positive freedom, as Snyder envisions it, relies on the belief that government can act as a benevolent force. This assumption contradicts James Madison’s warning that “if angels were to govern men, neither external nor internal controls on government would be necessary.” But angels don’t govern us. Washington bureaucrats are subject to the same ills and vices that make government over the masses necessary. Defending institutional authority without scrutiny undermines the conservative commitment to negative freedom — the principle that individual liberties should be checks against excessive power.

Snyder’s solution, then, is not just to oppose authoritarian figures but to resist decentralization itself. He cites Aristotle and Plato to argue that inequality leads to instability and that demagogues exploit free speech to seize power. In Snyder’s world, speech is only “free” when it supports institutional interests rather than challenges them. Yet his call to “defend institutions” fails to recognize that institutions can be corrupt, bloated, and unaccountable. Snyder assumes institutions are inherently legitimate, ignoring the need for them to be accountable to the people they serve.

Where Snyder falls short

Snyder’s argument falls apart here. The left's crusade against so-called oligarchs like Musk isn’t about returning power to the people — it’s about re-centralizing it under authorities leftists consider ideologically acceptable.

Negative freedom is dangerous to them because it allows individuals to dissent, challenge state-sanctioned narratives, and question institutional orthodoxy. Yet it is precisely this freedom that has protected human decency from the imposition of top-down tyranny.

Snyder is right that institutions should be defended when they uphold the people's dignity, rights, and liberties. But just as institutions act as a check on the whims of the populace, the dissent of the people serves as a vital check on the inherent corruptibility of institutions. As Madison argued, both safeguards are essential.

When Snyder and his growing following on the global left seek to suppress dissent for the sake of institutional authority, they don’t prevent tyranny — they empower it.