How to Save Democracy

At the mass or cultural level, the main problem is that our very distance and detachment from our leaders, and from one another, allow us to form and hold views that do not require scrutiny or evaluation. An example of how structural change can dramatically promote a cultural shift was shown in the Supreme Court decision of Brown vs. the Board of Education in the U.S. That decision, more than all the sermonizing from American liberals about the corrosive effects of racism on American life, or the activism of civil-rights leaders, forced blacks and whites to integrate. It was a change in experience, not beliefs or values, that changed the culture.

The most fundamental step in altering behaviour may be the introduction of compulsory voting. Turnout has fallen steadily since 1988 and is especially low among newly eligible voters, fewer than 30 percent of whom voted in 2000. Making voting compulsory – as is the case in Australia or Greece – forces every citizen into at least some engagement with the system.

If you have to vote, chances are you will at least learn who the candidates are in your area. Even this minimal involvement will foster the acquisition of other attendant information about politics, legitimize election results, and give the marginalized a greater stake in the process. (Those who would charge that this is draconian or anti-democratic should note that paying taxes and going to school are mandatory because both are deemed necessary for a strong society.)

Creating community, creed, and a common sense of destiny also requires citizen contact. There was a reason the ancient Greeks built theatres or early architects made the town square the centrepiece of their city plans. By strengthening the avenues of cultural distribution, public spaces can be combined with art and ideas to advance citizen interaction and build a stronger sense of civic virtue. Public sponsorship of festivals, reading series, debates, and town-hall meetings can all be used to inveigle individuals out of their rec rooms and into the streets, where citizens will gain a greater feeling of “ownership” of their community and its problems.

Technology is another powerful tool: computer programs could be set up to simulate public-policy alternatives, so that individuals could develop their own defence budget or old-age-pension plan. Such “e-democracy” initiatives could facilitate an immediate feedback loop between elected representatives and their constituents on current issues of the day. Not only would this give citizens more input into government decision-making, but there is every reason to believe that if we can use technology to learn more about the consequences of our beliefs, over time we will come to make better decisions.

Even with compulsory participation, cultural democracy, and technological innovation, however, real change won’t happen unless citizens also come to believe that their elected representatives are not only responsive, but are empowered to act on the demands of those they represent.

Since 1774, when Edmund Burke delivered his famous speech to the electors of Bristol, the prevailing model in the parliamentary system has been that elected representatives are “delegates” of their constituents. Once elected, MPs follow their own good judgment, and voters leave them to it, having their say about each politician’s performance during the next election.

Today, when most voters view their elected representatives as their inferiors, and virtually all have become conversant with current events through the explosion of broadcast and digital media, it is probably prudent to rethink this model. By moving away from a “Burkian-delegated” model of representation to a more integrated and less distant “partnership” between leaders and voters, it may be possible both to harness the citizen’s own sense of (non-political) powerfulness and give our representatives the tools to actually make changes in their constituents’ lives. This might involve the introduction of recall, referendum, and initiative measures by which voters could have the ability to replace their representatives between elections, cast judgment on laws, and submit their own legislation.

At the same time, by giving MPs more control over, and a direct say in, local government services, we could revitalize old-school “retail politics.” It is not mere coincidence that voter turnout in the 2000 federal election was 85 percent in the tiny province of Prince Edward Island, or that private polls showed that more than 90 percent of voters in Cape Breton Island knew the name of their local MP. Not only are politicians familiar faces and considered “neighbours,” but citizens also have a material understanding of the consequences of their political choices in smaller communities in this part of Canada. When I first started working on Parliament Hill, one of the more apocryphal tales I heard was that if you were a Liberal gas-station owner in Atlantic Canada, and the Conservatives formed the government the RCMP might stop filling up at your establishment.

Now considered the type of graft and corruption that should be avoided, this story illustrates that elected representatives with the power to intervene on behalf of, and to deliver services directly to, their constituents give tangible proof of the impact of politics on citizenship.