Subscribe

How to subscribe to SteveSailer.net

Just hit this button:

At present, you can subscribe for free, or for $10 per month, or annually for $100 year. Or you can become a Steve Sailer Patron for $300 per year.

Right now during my soft opening, I’m making most of my posts available to free subscribers so people who have never heard of me before can see if they like me.

But soon I will start paywalling a large fraction of my posts, so being a free subscriber will soon prove more frustrating than at present.

SteveSailer.net is how I’m going to make a very large fraction of my living, so I’m serious about making money off subscriptions. I’ve been a professional writer full time for 24 years and I’ve put up with some straitened circumstances over the decades to have the freedom to say what I find to be true, interesting, new, and funny.

At present, fortunately, the winds of change are blowing toward more free speech.

But free speech isn’t cheap, so I’m going to be fairly ruthless about paywalling posts that free subscribers can’t see after I get my Substack up and running.

An only child’s Baby Boom-era Christmas

In these inflationary times, I will probably eventually boost the subscription price, so you’ll save something in the long run by getting in now on my Substack. The way it works is that as your year’s subscription is coming up for renewal at the price you originally signed up for, you’ll automatically be sent an email from me explaining how to take a few simple steps to prevent Substack from automatically renewing it on your credit card at the original price.

That means, when you stop and think about it, that I’m not very likely to boost your subscription price if you sign up now because to do that would require you to take action to agree with the new higher price.

But if you wait until later, you might well find the price has gone up.

I greatly appreciate your support, moral and financial.

But especially financial.

Why should you subscribe?

Charles Murray, author of Coming Apart and co-author of The Bell Curve, makes the case for Steve Sailer in the Spring issue of the Claremont Review of Books in his review of my new anthology Noticing:

After a bout with cancer forced him to reconsider his life’s mission, Sailer left a job in marketing research to become a writer—a background that perhaps explains his facility with both data and attention-grabbing language. I first came across him in 1999, as a member of an online chat group he organized to discuss human biodiversity. I was impressed by this unknown youngster and have made a point of keeping up with his work ever since.

His skill in using statistics and his willingness to do his scholarly homework are on full display throughout Noticing. I could not factcheck everything in the book. But I know a lot about I.Q., and one of the longer pieces in Noticing is “An IQ FAQ,” published in 2007. Sailer takes on all the common questions involving I.Q., many of them involving finicky technical details. I did not find any errors in his 11 pages of breezy explanation. The same may be said of the articles on crime. Crime statistics abound in ways to go wrong, and journalists betray their ignorance of them in almost everything I read on the topic in the mainstream media. Sailer is aware of the pitfalls and frames his interpretations accordingly. He combines this attention to numerical detail with an overarching philosophy about statistics that is eminently commonsensical, all too rare among pundits. He calls it “noticing the congruity between daily life and the social sciences.”

In “What If I’m Right” (2022), he describes it this way:

My main trick for coming up with enough insights to make a living as an unfashionable pundit for 23 years has been to assume that private life facts—what we see with our lying eyes—and public life facts—what the scientific data tell us—are essentially one and the same. There is only one reality out there.

I share that philosophy, just as I share Sailer’s love of data. Give either one of us a big database and we can disappear for days, weeks, or months, happily exploring what’s in there. We are kindred spirits. The main difference between us is that Sailer is more fun to read.

His interests sprawl far beyond weighty social science issues into the realms of popular culture, sports, golf-course architecture—the list goes on indefinitely. For example, one of the articles in Noticing, “Waugh and Wilder: The Dawn of Sunset Boulevard,” is devoted entirely to the complicated relationship between Billy Wilder’s famous 1950 film and Evelyn Waugh’s novel, The Loved One (1948). Sailer goes into fascinating detail, along with excursions into Tony Richardson’s directing career, Burt Reynolds’s affair with Dinah Shore, and Wilder’s days as a Weimar gigolo. “What Will Happen in Afghanistan” is another example of his virtuosity. It was published on September 26, 2001. Somehow, less than two weeks after Afghanistan’s link to 9/11 had been publicly identified, Sailer managed to research and write 2,600 words that take you through John Huston’s film of The Man Who Would Be King (1975), an appraisal of Huston, the film’s relationship to Kipling’s 1888 story of the same name, an appraisal of Kipling, salient facts about Britain’s dismal military history in Afghanistan, and finally some trenchant observations about the prospects for an American invasion.

These discursive articles are some of my favorites, but they also illustrate his remarkable track record of being right. In the cases of Sunset Boulevard and The Man Who Would Be King, he’s factually right.But he has also been right, and in some cases prescient, about a wide range of major public policy issues. He was right about the Iraq invasion. His “Five Years After 9/11: Why Did Bush Blunder?” wasn’t published until September 2006. But in emails sent to the other members of his human biodiversity chat group just a few weeks after the invasion, Sailer had already correctly diagnosed the reasons why it was going to be a disaster. He was right to emphasize, as almost no one else has, the prevalence of cousin marriage as an essential feature of the political and military situation in Iraq (see “Cousin Marriage Conundrum,” published in 2003).

He was right to predict in 2014, when few others were talking about gender dysphoria, that transsexuals would be the next big thing in the sexual orientation wars. And he was among the first to describe the role that autogynephilia (male sexual arousal at the thought of being a female) plays among adult males who identify as transgender (“World War T”). He has been right to point out repeatedly the likelihood and implications of massive outmigration from Africa over the course of the 21st century (represented in Noticing by 2019’s “Our New Planet is Going to Be Great!”). And Sailer has been right in his long-standing advocacy for severe restrictions on low-skill immigration into the United States.

His proposition is that Americans should privilege their fellow citizens. “I call it ‘citizenism,’” he wrote in 2006 (“Americans First”), “because it affirms that true patriots and idealists are willing to make sacrifices for the overall good of their fellow American citizens rather than for the advantage of either six billion foreigners or of the special interests within our own country.”

This was a big improvement on the rhetoric that had accompanied many of the other attacks on immigration. It appealed to a shared sense of a great American family that cuts across ethnicity. Citizenism also was an antidote to the undifferentiated econometric analyses of immigration. Mass immigration may be a net plus on the national level when it comes to GDP, but it doesn’t work out that way for many low-skill Americans competing with those immigrants. There are winners and losers from low-skill immigration, and the losers are concentrated among the working class. Sailer argues that it’s worth taking a minor hit to national income statistics if it makes it easier for our fellow Americans to make a living. I resisted that conclusion for years, persuaded by the technical literature that immigration is a net plus for economic growth. But I finally came around to Sailer’s way of looking at it.

Steve Sailer is a lifelong, laid-back Southern Californian, and his prose reflects it. Reading a typical Sailer column is like talking to an extremely well-read friend with eclectic interests who rambles. He sometimes leads you so far from his main topic that you have forgotten what that topic was by the time he returns to it—but who cares? The side trips and digressions are great fun. Sailer is self-aware in this regard, noting that his columns often seem to end arbitrarily because “from my perspective, there is no conclusion, just an endless network of cause and effect. So, instead, I merely tend to knock off around dawn when it’s long past time to go to bed.”

For such an amiable and sensible person to have been effectively barred from mainstream public discourse shows how the Left’s fixation on race has warped American letters. If the internet hadn’t made it possible for pariahs like Sailer to circumvent the gatekeepers, we’d hardly know he exists. Political correctness in all its forms is, as Sailer likes to say, a war on noticing—hence the title of the book. But despite the best efforts of the gatekeepers, Sailer himself keeps getting noticed. He deserves to be. I hope this collection will allow yet more people to notice him, and that they will reflect with an open mind on what he has to say.

Charles Murray is the Hayek Emeritus Scholar at the American Enterprise Institute and the author, most recently, of Facing Reality: Two Truths About Race in America (Encounter Books.)