A seating plan that became a worldview
In the summer of 1789, deputies in France's National Assembly began to sit in groups. Those who wanted to preserve the king's power, including an absolute royal veto, gathered on the president's right. Those who wanted to limit it sat on the left. A newspaper of the time could describe a vote simply by saying which side won. Within a few decades, "left" and "right" had spread across Europe as names for broad political camps.
What the words meant shifted with the issues of the day. In nineteenth-century France, the left generally stood for the republic, secularism and the extension of rights, and the right for monarchy, the Catholic Church and order. As industrialisation created a working class and socialist movements, the left came to be associated with labour, redistribution and public ownership, and the right with property, markets and tradition. By the twentieth century, the economic meaning dominated in most countries.
What left and right mean today
In very rough terms, the left today tends to favour greater economic equality, a larger role for government in providing services and regulating markets, and change in social norms. The right tends to favour markets and private enterprise, lower taxes, and the preservation of traditional institutions and national identity. But the bundle differs from country to country, and it keeps moving.
A few examples show how slippery the terms are. "Liberal" means left-of-centre in the United States but often pro-market and centre-right in Australia and much of Europe. Free trade was a cause of the British left in the nineteenth century, a mainstream centre-right policy in the late twentieth, and is now criticised by parts of both left and right. Environmentalism has roots in conservative ideas of stewardship as well as in left-wing movements. In some post-communist countries, "left" parties are the successors of former ruling parties and may be culturally conservative.
Why one line isn't enough
Political scientists have long noticed that people's views don't all fall along a single line. In the 1950s and 1960s, researchers such as Hans Eysenck proposed a second dimension, sometimes described as tough-minded versus tender-minded. Later work distinguished between economic attitudes and attitudes about social and cultural questions. David Nolan's chart, created in 1969 and popularised by American libertarians, used two axes, economic freedom and personal freedom, to show that libertarians belonged neither on the left nor the right. Many online political tests now use a two-axis chart of this kind.
Since the 1970s, many researchers have argued that a "cultural" divide over issues such as immigration, national identity, gender and religion has become increasingly important in Western democracies, sometimes cutting across the economic divide. Others have studied the role of education, geography and age in that divide. These debates are ongoing, and researchers disagree about how best to measure them.
The problem with two axes
Two axes are better than one, but they still compress very different positions. Consider four people who all score as moderately left-wing and moderately libertarian on a two-axis chart:
- one is a green localist who wants decisions made by neighbourhood assemblies and fossil fuels phased out rapidly;
- one is a cosmopolitan who wants stronger international institutions and freer migration;
- one is a religious social reformer who wants more welfare and a public role for faith;
- one wants change through a decisive break with the current system rather than gradual reform.
They would sit on the same dot. Yet their priorities, and the traditions they belong to, are different.
That's why our test uses eight axes: economics, state power, culture, world, ecology, religion and state, the pace of change, and the scale of government. It isn't the only reasonable design, but it separates positions that two axes merge.
Is the left–right spectrum obsolete?
No. Left and right remain powerful shorthand, and most voters in most democracies can place themselves on a left–right scale. Party systems are still organised largely around it. The point isn't to throw the spectrum away but to recognise what it hides. When someone says they're "left on economics but right on immigration", or "socially liberal but fiscally conservative", they are describing exactly the extra dimensions a single line can't show.
How to use the terms well
- Ask which dimension someone means. "Right-wing" could mean pro-market, socially traditional, nationalist or pro-authority, and these don't always go together.
- Remember that meanings vary by country. A centre-left party in one country might be centrist in another.
- Look at positions, not labels. Two people who call themselves "progressive" may disagree on markets; two "conservatives" may disagree on trade.
- Avoid using labels as insults. Terms like "socialist", "fascist" and "neoliberal" have precise meanings in political science, and casual use makes conversation harder.
Where to go next
Take our test to see your eight scores, then read the axis guides to understand what each dimension measures. If your result surprises you, look at which axes drove it; often it's one or two strong commitments that define a person's politics more than any overall label.
Further reading
- Norberto Bobbio, Left and Right: The Significance of a Political Distinction (1994), a classic short study arguing that attitudes to equality are the core of the distinction.
- Jonathan Haidt, The Righteous Mind (2012), on the moral foundations behind different political outlooks.
- Pippa Norris and Ronald Inglehart, Cultural Backlash (2019), on the cultural dimension in contemporary politics.