Ed Crane Was Right About Speech And The Iraq War Off The Bat

My friend Ed Crane died last week. He was a big deal, so important columnists will write traditional obituaries listing his most significant professional accomplishments — and that’s good because Ed Crane mattered a lot, and what he did deserves to be memorialized (enshrined, actually). What follows here is mostly a tribute to Ed the person and, for lack of a better word, his style — some of it gathered from firsthand experience, much of it from a decade and a half of shared stories among friends.

For the last 15 years or so, Ed and I had lunch at least monthly, sometimes weekly. Every so often, it was just the two of us, but it was usually at least three and, frequently, a group of six or more. It was a “guys’ lunch,” though occasionally women would join. I’m 50. Ed was in his 80s. The whole group spanned decades. In a world where more of us are “bowling alone,” I recommend friends — friends who span wide age ranges and friends like Ed Crane.

I was lucky to meet John Tamny at an investment conference around 2010. I was familiar with the Cato Institute, but John introduced me to Ed. Ed spoke with presidents and billionaires (I’m neither), but somehow we got along from the jump. Ed was “INTJ,” in Myers-Briggs parlance, and so am I. I suspect that helped. Ed was left-handed. I was never able to overcome my right-handed deficiency, but I think he mostly overlooked it.

We talked about serious things but also about family, movies, and sports. When a grandchild was born, Ed would tell us that the less-than-one-month-old child was obviously left-handed, extremely good-looking, and an excellent athlete. On the sports front, those familiar with Ed’s bimonthly memos know someone needs to take over his NFL handicapping, so here goes. After years of Ed’s coaching, I’ve done all the research and crunched all the numbers, and the Washington Commanders are certain to go 20-0 next season and win the Super Bowl.

Ed had a savant-like management ability that spanned executive functions: analysis, personnel, and prioritization. While scholars who worked for him did detailed policy work, Ed mostly eschewed complicated study for a simpler, more universal framework: Did the proposal increase individual freedom? He knew libertarian ideas were profound, but he also knew you couldn’t sell major reform if you looked like a radical. Cut your hair and wear a tie if you want to successfully advocate for a free society.

When the Village Voice fired renowned civil libertarian and free-speech advocate Nat Hentoff, Ed saw an opportunity to strengthen Cato’s already formidable free-speech credentials. Only Ed could out–civil-liberties one of the most left-wing publications in history. As Ed said, “The core of libertarianism is a defense of free speech.” There are countless other examples of similarly adept personnel decisions.

Ed also knew when to make noise: when an issue was important enough, the libertarian view was unpopular, and that position was likely to be vindicated over time. In those moments, a small think tank could build credibility and punch well above its weight — if it was principled and patient. When it was reputationally risky to oppose the Iraq War in late 2002 and early 2003 (support polled at roughly 75 percent), Cato was perhaps the loudest anti-war voice in elite policy circles. Today, a plurality of Americans believe the Iraq War was a mistake. Ed and Cato repeated the feat in 2009, taking out full-page ads in national newspapers opposing the Wall Street bailouts.

I am convinced that had Ed still been at the helm in 2020, Cato would have taken a forceful stand against the sweeping lockdowns, mandates, and so-called stimulus measures that reshaped American life. Ed had a gift for identifying moments when liberty required an unpopular defense — and history has a way of catching up to him.

Under Ed’s direction, the Cato Institute moved the Overton Window on numerous issues. It is conveniently forgotten that libertarians were tolerant of alternative lifestyles when Democrats — including those with the last name Clinton — were still saying “don’t ask, don’t tell.” If it matters in policy, there is a good chance it traces back, at least in part, to libertarian ideas strengthened by Cato’s work and pushed forward by Ed’s leadership. Today, individuals enjoy greater self-expression, political speech is freer, the law is more faithful to the Constitution, and foreign policy is more noninterventionist because of Ed Crane.

Ed was creative, seemingly from the start. The earliest story I’ve heard is of a young Cal Bear in an academic pickle, convincing the head of the Ecosystem Management and Forestry Department at UC Berkeley that he “loved trees” and should switch majors. Later, while managing the Ed Clark campaign and helping turn the Libertarian Party into the most significant third party in the country, Ed staged a satellite-linked rally simulcast to Howard Johnson’s across the nation. Four decades before Zoom, it was inspired — and an organizational feat. (Everything cutting edge has hiccups, but Ed’s wife Kristina quickly found the unplugged cord and fixed it — another testament to Ed’s “personnel prowess.”)

Perhaps my favorite story occurred at an early Cato gathering so successful that attendance overflowed the main room. A secondary room had been set up, but when Ed spoke, he wasn’t visible. Not wanting anyone to feel excluded, he staged a moment. On cue, a planted assistant stood up in the overflow room. Ed stopped and called out, “Sir, I’m still speaking. Please sit down and be respectful!” The annex instantly felt included.

Ed was not proprietary. There is a large ecosystem of libertarian organizations — some with a global focus, some going deep in niche areas — all of which exist and function, in part, because of Ed Crane. He was happy to share donors, ideas, and even personnel if it furthered the cause of liberty. Ed was assertive, too. He once engaged then-Gov. Ronald Reagan in a letter-writing argument over whether Reagan was truly a libertarian. If Ed believed he was right — and he usually was — he wouldn’t back down.

In other memorials, Ed will be listed as “a” founder of the Cato Institute. While technically correct, that phrasing misses the essential point. Ed conceived of Cato, shaped its voice, and guided it to its peak influence. Others provided early capital, and that mattered — but financing an idea is not the same as creating and leading it. No one refers to Sequoia Capital as a founder of Apple simply because it supplied venture funding. Ed was the architect and driving force behind Cato’s rise.

After his departure, Cato has remained strong. But institutions are more than scholarship; they are also judgment — about what to elevate, when to speak, and how forcefully to do so. Institutions rarely feel the same when the person who defined that judgment is gone. History has a way of clarifying authorship, and Ed’s professional legacy is firm. I suspect it will continue to grow over time.

Of equal — if not greater — importance: Ed and his loving, smart, witty, and perfectly complementary wife Kristina raised three smart, successful, charming, kind, thoughtful, and happily married children. We are living in an extraordinary moment. Markets and technology are producing abundance and possibility at a pace that thrilled Ed — perhaps even a glimpse of the libertarian future he always believed was possible. Yet in the midst of that abundance, many of us feel more isolated, more siloed, and less inclined toward friendship and family. Ed never confused the purpose of liberty with its tools. He loved market-driven advancement and the expansion of opportunity, but he loved people more. The great thing about humanity is humans. That means building friendships, raising families, and investing in one another.

Ed did all of that in spades.

Jeff Erber is an entrepreneur and investment manager living in Alexandria, Virginia.