The Ritter School - Conservative Modernity as a Philosophical Program

This text is a preview of History of the Reception of Hegel, volume II, to be published in 2026 by Reflexivity Press.

From an Individual Position to a School

Ritter’s interpretation did not remain singular. It became the starting point for an entire school that continues to be influential today. Hermann Lübbe, Odo Marquard, Robert Spaemann—all three were Ritter’s students in Münster and further developed his program.[1] In doing so, the emphasis shifted: from a defense of Hegel against totalitarian-theory accusations, a comprehensive philosophy of modernity emerged, explicitly conservative in bearing—not in the sense of restoring the old, but of critically preserving what had been achieved against revolutionary excesses.

The Ritter school developed in the 1960s and 1970s—parallel to the student protest movement, to the New Left, to the Frankfurt School. It was a deliberate counter-position: while Marcuse lamented “one-dimensional man” and preached revolutionary refusal, while Adorno propagated “negative dialectics” without reconciliation, the Ritter school emphasized the necessity of institutions, traditions, mediations.

Hermann Lübbe: Political Philosophy as Institutional Theory

Hermann Lübbe (b. 1926) developed in Politische Philosophie in Deutschland (1963) a position that defended Hegel’s thinking on institutions against left-Hegelian expectations of revolution.[2] His central thesis: institutions are not instruments of domination but conditions of freedom.

This was directed against a widespread misunderstanding, found not only in Marx but also in the New Left: that institutions are per se repressive, that they suppress the spontaneous creativity of the individual, that true freedom can only be found in their abolition.

Lübbe argued: the opposite is the case. Without institutions there is no reliable freedom. The law guarantees my freedom only if it is institutionally secured. Democracy functions only when anchored in stable procedures. Science can only flourish if it possesses institutional autonomy.

This insight was directed against the revolutionary rhetoric of the 1960s, which believed institutions could be replaced by “permanent revolution,” by “grassroots democracy,” by “spontaneity.” Lübbe showed: such attempts end either in chaos or in new tyranny—because freedom without institutional mediation is not self-realization but arbitrariness.

But with Lübbe something decisive shifts relative to Hegel: institutions are no longer understood as becoming, as developing structures, but as things that have become—as achievements to be preserved. The dialectic, which in Hegel kept every shape in motion, here freezes into stasis.

Here the first internal contradiction becomes apparent: Lübbe defends institutions with Hegel’s arguments—but he removes precisely what made Hegel’s theory of institutions dynamic. In Hegel, institutions are not simply given, but the result of historical struggles, and they remain open to change as long as they fail to fulfill their own principles. Lübbe’s institutions, by contrast, tend to immunize themselves against criticism: what has historically grown is to be preserved—but when is change legitimate?

The question of openness—one of the nine ethical criteria—becomes virulent here: institutions are legitimate only as long as they remain self-critical, as long as they are capable of learning. As soon as they set themselves up as untouchable, they lose their rationality. Lübbe’s defense of institutions risks promoting exactly this: a sacralization of the existing order that forgets institutions too need critique.

Odo Marquard: Difficulties with the Philosophy of History

Odo Marquard (1928-2015) radicalized the conservative turn of the Ritter school. In his influential essay “Schwierigkeiten mit der Geschichtsphilosophie” (1973), he formulated a fundamental critique of all philosophies of history—and thereby also of Hegel’s claim to interpret history as progress toward freedom.[3]

His diagnosis: philosophy of history is dangerous. It promises a goal of history (be it the realm of freedom, the classless society, the end of alienation) and thereby legitimizes violence in the name of the future. Whoever knows where history is going can justify any sacrifice in the name of that goal. The great crimes of the twentieth century—Stalinism, National Socialism—rested on philosophies of history.

Marquard’s alternative: skepticism toward all promises of salvation. History has no goal. There is no plan, no meaning, no telos. What there is are human beings who live in contingent conditions and try to make the best of them. Philosophy should not deliver grand designs but “reliefs” (Entlastungen)—small aids to make life bearable.

This is an explicitly anti-Hegelian position. Marquard inverts Hegel: it is not reason that realizes itself in history, but history is a contingent process without inner logic. It is not philosophy that can interpret history; rather, it must content itself with “taking leave” of grand narratives.[4]

The question is: does Marquard thereby refute Hegel? Or does he miss him? For Hegel’s philosophy of history was no doctrine of salvation promising an earthly paradise. It was the attempt to show how human beings have developed forms of freedom in the course of history—always broken, always contradictory, but nonetheless with a discernible direction.

Marquard’s critique hits more the vulgar forms of philosophy of history—Stalinist Diamat, which interpreted history mechanically as a sequence of social formations, or the National Socialist race theories, which reduced history biologistically. But these were precisely distortions of the dialectic, not its consequence.

Here a second internal contradiction arises in Marquard’s position: he criticizes philosophy of history because it leads to violence—but he overlooks that the very abandonment of historical orientation can have a paralyzing effect. If history is only contingency, if there is no orientation, no standards for judging developments—then critique too becomes impossible. Then one can only accept what happens.

The question of development—another ethical criterion—becomes relevant here: systems must be able to develop further. Marquard’s skepticism toward all philosophies of history risks blocking every notion of development. But without the idea of development, without orientation toward something better, critique too degenerates into mere resignation.

Nevertheless Marquard’s position shows something important: the danger of instrumentalization. As soon as a philosophy of history claims to know where history is going, it can be misused to justify violence. But the solution lies not in abandoning historical thinking altogether, but in its self-critique: in acknowledging the provisionality of all historical interpretations, in openness to revision, in rejecting every certainty of salvation.

Robert Spaemann: The Origin of Sociology from the Spirit of Restoration

Robert Spaemann (1927-2018) carried out, in his habilitation thesis (1959), a remarkable rehabilitation of conservatism. His title was programmatic: Der Ursprung der Soziologie aus dem Geist der Restauration—a deliberate allusion to Nietzsche’s Birth of Tragedy from the Spirit of Music.[5]

Spaemann’s thesis: modern sociology owes its existence not to progressive thinkers who wanted to change society, but to conservative thinkers who wanted to understand it. Bonald, de Maistre, the French Restoration philosophers—they were the ones who first grasped society as its own sphere, with its own laws that cannot simply be reshaped by rational planning.

The point: the Enlightenment believed society could be newly constructed according to rational principles. The French Revolution was the attempt to practically implement this idea. Its failure—the Terror, the Napoleonic dictatorship—showed that society is more complex than Enlightenment reason can grasp. The conservatives recognized this and developed from it a new understanding: society is an organic whole that has grown slowly and cannot be arbitrarily reshaped.

Here lies the connection to Ritter’s interpretation of Hegel: Hegel too, according to Spaemann, recognized the limits of revolutionary transformation. He too emphasized the significance of historically grown institutions, the role of tradition and custom, the necessity of mediation.

But again a shift threatens: Hegel’s dialectical understanding—that institutions act simultaneously as preserving and transforming, that they enable freedom while also limiting it—becomes a static understanding that sees change primarily as a danger.

A third internal contradiction becomes visible here: Spaemann praises the conservatives for grasping the complexity of society—but he overlooks that precisely this complexity also means changeability. If society is complex, then it is not fixed but open to various developmental paths. The insight into complexity does not necessarily lead to conservatism but could equally lead to cautious reformism.

The question of reciprocity becomes relevant here: conservative thinkers often emphasize the embeddedness of the individual in supra-individual structures—but overlook that these structures are themselves the result of processes of mutual recognition. Institutions are not simply “organically grown” but were fought for, negotiated, shaped. The notion of a natural, non-rational genesis of institutions obscures that traditions too contain power structures that must be critically questioned.

The Systematic Achievement and Limit of the Ritter School

The Ritter school achieved something important: against the revolutionary exuberance of the 1960s and 1970s, it defended the significance of institutions, traditions, mediations. It showed that freedom is not arbitrariness, that progress does not mean destroying what exists, that reason must recognize its own limits.

These were necessary corrections. The New Left tended to denounce all institutions as repressive, to dismiss every tradition as reactionary, to place spontaneous action above reflected mediation. The Ritter school reminded us that even revolutions need institutions, that even radical critique situates itself in traditions, that even spontaneous action is mediated.

But this achievement was bought at the price of a narrowing: the Ritter school turned Hegel into a thinker who affirms modernity rather than criticizes it. The dialectic was domesticated into reconciliation, the philosophy of history abandoned, the practical dimension neutralized.

Three interconnected tensions become especially clear here.

First tension: preservation or stagnation? The Ritter school rightly emphasizes that not everything existing is simply to be rejected. But it tends to sacralize the existing order. What has grown is to be preserved—but when is change legitimate? When do preserving institutions become blocking structures?

Here the Ritter school lacks what was central for Hegel: the criterion of openness. Institutions are legitimate as long as they remain self-critical, as long as they are capable of self-correction, as long as they enable learning processes. As soon as they immunize themselves against criticism, as soon as they freeze into mere domination, they lose their legitimacy—even if they are “historically grown.”

Second tension: institutions for whom? The Ritter school defends the institutions of modern Western society—the rule of law, democracy, the market economy. But it scarcely thematizes that these institutions historically rested on exclusions: exclusion of women, exclusion of the colonized, exclusion of the propertyless.

If institutions are conditions of freedom—whose freedom? The question of participation is acknowledged but not systematically worked through. The Ritter school defends institutions without sufficiently asking whether these institutions really enable mutual recognition or whether they instead privilege particular groups.

Third tension: compensation or transformation? The compensation theory implies that the contradictions of modernity cannot be abolished. Philosophy can only reconcile them in spirit, not overcome them in reality.

But here a performative contradiction arises: if philosophy only compensates, if it reconciles people with their alienation instead of seeking ways to overcome it—does it not then become ideology itself? A “cunning of reason” that, precisely through its reconciling function, stabilizes existing conditions?

A philosophy that takes itself seriously must remain critical—even toward itself. It cannot stop at offering consolation. It must ask: what changes are possible? Which are necessary? How can we create institutions that really enable freedom for all?

The Ritter school has not adequately raised these questions. It defended Hegel against his revolutionary heirs—but at the price of de-radicalizing him. What remains is a philosophical stance that critically appreciates the existing order but scarcely retains the power to think beyond it.


  1. On the origin and development of the Ritter school see: Hermann Lübbe, “Joachim Ritter - der Philosoph aus Münster,” in: Merkur 28 (1974), pp. 1137–1149; Hermann Lübbe, “Ritter, Joachim,” in: Neue Deutsche Biographie 21 (2003), pp. 673–674. On the characterization as a “school”: Odo Marquard, “Die Ritter-Schule - Eine skeptische Bestandsaufnahme,” in: Philosophisches Jahrbuch 103 (1996), pp. 1–14. ↩︎

  2. Hermann Lübbe, Politische Philosophie in Deutschland. Studien zu ihrer Geschichte, Basel/Stuttgart: Schwabe 1963. On the systematic position see also: Hermann Lübbe, Praxis der Philosophie, Praktische Philosophie, Geschichtstheorie, Stuttgart: Reclam 1978. ↩︎

  3. Odo Marquard, “Schwierigkeiten mit der Geschichtsphilosophie” (1973), in: Schwierigkeiten mit der Geschichtsphilosophie. Aufsätze, Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp 1982, pp. 13–33. On placing his position see: Kurt Röttgers, “Odo Marquards skeptische Diätetik,” in: Allgemeine Zeitschrift für Philosophie 21 (1996), pp. 229–246. ↩︎

  4. Odo Marquard, “Abschied vom Prinzipiellen” (1981), in: Abschied vom Prinzipiellen. Philosophische Studien, Stuttgart: Reclam 1981, pp. 4–22. On the systematic placement: Hans Blumenberg, Lebenszeit und Weltzeit, Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp 1986, pp. 238–245. ↩︎

  5. Robert Spaemann, Der Ursprung der Soziologie aus dem Geist der Restauration. Studien über L.G.A. de Bonald, Munich: Kösel 1959. On its placement: Hermann Lübbe, “Spaemann und die Restauration,” in: Philosophisches Jahrbuch 69 (1961), pp. 177–185. ↩︎