Remembering Karl Zinsmeister

Karl Zinsmeister, who passed away from cancer on April 30, 2026, was a friend and mentor to me and a quiet but important influence on R Street’s early formation.

I first met Karl when I was an undergraduate working for a daily newspaper in Ithaca, New York. At the time, I was a heterodox but still committed progressive. In the main reading room of my college library, I started picking up copies of The American Enterprise. To me, the magazine felt like a breath of fresh air: it took traditions I already valued seriously while rejecting both libertarian cynicism and the left’s confidence in central planning.

I read every issue cover to cover. Eventually, I noticed that the editor—Karl—lived in the same town. I called him up and asked if I could write a profile. He replied a day later with a firm but friendly “no,” explaining that he preferred not to attract publicity in a small town.

A few weeks later, he noticed a piece I had written defending large bookstores and sent me a handwritten note inviting me to adapt it for The American Enterprise. That began a relationship that lasted nearly 30 years.

We met for lunch. He eventually offered advice that, at the time, felt slightly implausible: before starting a doctoral program (I had majored in medieval studies), I should go to Washington and see what kind of job I could land. I took his advice, booked a plane ticket, and within a few weeks had moved to D.C. to begin work at a newspaper.

He stayed in my life after that—encouraging me, putting me on the magazine’s masthead, and eventually hiring me as a senior editor at the magazine. He was also a groomsman at my wedding; I pass his signature on our ketubah every day. For decades, he was someone I could call for advice on both professional and personal questions.

When R Street was getting off the ground, Karl played a role that was more behind-the-scenes but nonetheless important. He pushed us to think more broadly about where we could have impact, encouraged us to avoid easy ideological labels, and connected and re-connected me with people who proved important to our early development. 

Two things about Karl have stayed with me.

First, he had a deep skepticism of centralized authority and planning—not as an abstract doctrine, but as something rooted in experience. He knew the thinkers—Hayek, James C. Scott—but his views seemed to come just as much from a life that included working as a carpenter, rowing, and spending time outdoors in the upstate New York areas he loved. He trusted lived knowledge over imposed systems.

Second, although he was in every sense a committed conservative—politically, socially, and culturally—he never had stodgy tastes or a closed mind. He was curious about the world, optimistic about technology, and engaged with both high and popular culture. He also had a sharp sense of humor, including about his fellow conservatives.

I miss him tremendously already.