To place his likeness in the hands of millions is to extend an invitation — to remember, to argue, and to take seriously the work of shaping the public square.
New Haven, Conn. — On September 9, 2025, the United States Postal Service, in partnership with Yale University’s William F. Buckley Jr. Program, unveiled its newest Forever Stamp: a portrait of Buckley himself. Friends, family, and well-wishers gathered from across the Yale Community and broader East Coast to celebrate the notable Yale alum and the aptness that “in all places and for all time, Americans will fix that stamp on the right,” as opened by master of ceremonies Peter Robinson.
To some, it may seem curious that a figure so polarizing in his lifetime — lionized by conservatives, criticized by liberals — should now be memorialized in such a public and civic fashion. Yet the choice feels not only fitting but necessary. Buckley’s presence on a stamp acknowledges his singular role in shaping the American conservative movement while also paying tribute to the kind of public discourse he worked to cultivate. The Buckley stamp stands as a marker not just of his personal legacy, but of the enduring place of National Review and his related works in American civic life.
The bulk of the event’s programming centered on reflecting on Buckley’s legacy: from founding National Review in 1955 and uniting disparate strands of conservatism to hosting Firing Line with wit, vigor, and civility, it was clear to all present that Buckley helped shape the 20th century. Essayist George Will went so far as to credit Buckley with nothing less than winning the Cold War; without Buckley, he suggested, there would have been no Reagan — and without Reagan, no “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!”
Buckley Program student president William Barbee noted of the event, “It was an honor to be present for the unveiling of the stamp, which proved itself to be a meaningful tribute to the legacy of one of America’s — and Yale’s — most forceful intellects. The fact that Beinecke Plaza was chosen as the site for the official release proves Yale’s commitment to honoring Buckley’s legacy, and vice versa. As Chris Buckley said during his remarks, his father never stopped loving Yale. That is a lesson I think we, as students, can especially learn from studying Buckley: While we mustn’t be afraid to criticize our institutions from time to time, we should never forget to recognize the privilege it has been to attend a university of such beauty and merit.”
The symbolism of the stamp is worth pausing on. To appear on a stamp is not to be canonized as a saint, but to be recognized as significant within the nation’s civic memory. Buckley’s inclusion signals that in American history, it is not only presidents and generals who endure, but also ideas and the institutions that give them life. Commemoration, of course, should not be mistaken for canonization. Buckley was a complex figure, not a flawless one, and it would be dishonest to remember him otherwise. The value of placing him on a stamp lies precisely in the opportunity it affords for reflection — not only on his considerable achievements but also on his shortcomings. To honor him is not to excuse or erase, but to reckon with the full measure of his impact.
At the same time, Buckley’s legacy feels especially resonant in the present moment. His intellectual seriousness and commitment to civility stand in sharp contrast to a political culture dominated by sound bites, social media outrage, and the flattening of argument into performance. Buckley would not have stood for a world characterized by Twitter rage-bait and viral misinformation. The Buckley stamp, then, is more than a token of the past; it is a reminder of the enduring value of debate, persuasion, and ideas in public life. For National Review and its readership, it offers both a tribute and a challenge: to carry forward not only Buckley’s conservatism, but his insistence that politics is a conversation before it is a contest.
In the end, the Buckley stamp is less about nostalgia than about continuity. It situates Buckley within the nation’s shared memory, not as an untouchable icon, but as a thinker who insisted that ideas matter and that debate, pursued with rigor and civility, is central to democratic life. That is a lesson as urgent today as it was in his time. The Buckley stamp does more than commemorate a life — it sets a standard. It asks us to remember that debate is not merely a contest, that ideas shape nations, and that civility in public life is a legacy worth defending. In every letter it adorns, Buckley’s challenge endures: to think, to argue, and to participate fully in the life of the republic. To place his likeness in the hands of millions of Americans is to extend an invitation — to remember, to argue, and to take seriously the work of shaping the public square.