By Kevin D. Williamson
Sunday, May 22, 2016
Political activists, in rare moments of deep despondency,
have been known to poke around at the truth: The problem with mass democracy is
voters. Activists, whether of the Left or the Right, are almost always
Do-Something types (hence activism rather than inactivism), and so they toy
from time to time with schemes for engineering a better voter.
For sunnier sorts, this means pushing for better and
fuller voter education; for those of a more nubilous disposition, it means an
electoral cull.
What we call voter education often is an exercise in
flattering ourselves to the point of delusion. One hears this sort of thing all
the time: “If the voters only understood
our position, they would support our
position.” Maria Svart of the Democratic Socialists of America, a Bernie
Sanders supporter, says: “Many Americans, if they understood socialism, would
like it.” Similarly: “If they understood libertarianism, they would probably be
libertarians. It’s a PR problem.” And: “If they understood conservatism, they
wouldn’t be liberals.” Etc.
It never occurs to political activists that the reason
their preferred policies do not do well at the polling place is — radical
thought — that people do not like them.
Free-traders won the argument on the merits two centuries ago during the debate
over the Corn Laws (the party organ of the Anti-Corn-Law League lives on as The Economist), but that does not
matter. Many (perhaps not most) reasonably well-educated people understand
gains from trade (though Tufts students apparently do not know what comparative
advantage is), and Pat Buchanan probably encountered the works of Ricardo at
Georgetown, but they still do not want free trade. They probably have their
reasons, mostly bad ones, but the problem with anti-free-market voters isn’t
that they have failed to read Economics
in One Lesson. Likewise, what’s holding back voters who think that maybe
social democracy under a constitutional monarchy isn’t the best road for these
United States isn’t that they’ve never heard of Sweden.
There isn’t some magical incantation that is going to make them understand (and therefore
concur), or some clever argument or example that hasn’t been thought of. Those
of us who oppose abortion, for example, have indeed heard of miscarriage,
ectopic pregnancy, and the like. (If I get one more daft email smugly asking if
I’ve ever wondered why we celebrate birth anniversaries rather than conception
anniversaries . . .) It isn’t that we haven’t thought about these things or
heard those arguments: It’s that we’ve thought about these things and found
those arguments unpersuasive.
It isn’t that voters are not profoundly ignorant, it’s
just that making them less ignorant isn’t really going to help much on Election
Day, because political preferences are not, in the main, a function of knowledge.
The second approach — soft disenfranchisement — is
probably even less defensible on utilitarian grounds, but talking about it
provides activists, especially conservative activists, with a great deal of
emotional satisfaction.
You’ve heard it all: Only net taxpayers should be allowed
to vote. Only those with a positive net worth should be allowed to vote. People
on welfare should be disenfranchised. People who work for the government
shouldn’t be allowed to vote. This is generally framed as a moral-hazard
argument or as a conflict-of-interest argument. And it isn’t that there isn’t
anything to it (while neither Alexander Fraser Tytler nor Alexis de Tocqueville
nor Ben Franklin actually wrote that democratic government “can only exist
until the majority discovers it can vote itself largess out of the public
treasury,” the point nonetheless stands), but that the principle is impossible
to apply consistently: Do we treat Social Security dependents and disabled
veterans the same way? Kindergarten teachers and TSA goons? Police officers and
city-bus drivers? Welfare recipients and Pentagon contractors?
Progressives are a funny bunch in that they do sincerely
believe that government should be empowered, almost without limitation, to do
the will of the People, who are sovereign, but they imagine that the People
speak with one voice, or at least that they should
speak with one voice. When the People get froggy and refuse to fall in line
behind, say, the Affordable Care Act, which the best experts drew up on behalf
of the People, who (so the story goes) gave Barack Obama a mandate to reform
health care, then something must be wrong. And we all know what that is: Too
much debate and too much political discourse including too many voices, some of
which — those of Charles and David Koch, for instance — must be silenced in
order for the People to be heard as one voice, the way it was intended. (No, we
are not allowed to ask: Intended by Whom?) So we arrive at the strange situation
in which the Left desires maximal formal participation in democratic processes
but heavy restriction of everything ancillary to those processes, most
especially political speech.
The cynic might here observe that what’s really going on
may be something entirely different, that progressives want more participation
by voters because they assume that those new voters will agree with them, and
less participation in political discourse because they believe that those new
voices are less likely to support them, while conservatives want fewer voters
because they believe the ones remaining will be more conservative, while they
do not worry about all the new forms of political persuasion because those have
been mainly conservative. And it probably is the case that many among our
political professionals are exactly that calculating.
That doesn’t mean that their calculations are correct.
What’s actually needed isn’t more voters or fewer voters
— though, for the record, I do suspect that our traditional method of voting
(going to a polling location on Election Day and casting a vote in person) does
act as a modest pro-conservative screening device, and I am perfectly happy
with that. But the American people chose some pretty rotten presidents when
voting was severely restricted: Andrew Jackson and Woodrow Wilson come to mind,
along with four-term wonder Franklin D. Roosevelt. Voters are not great
deliberators: They career back and forth, from Johnson to Nixon to Carter to
Reagan to Bush to Clinton to Bush to Obama to . . . God knows what comes next.
That isn’t a rational progression, and it isn’t a series of decisions based on
dispassionate evaluation of the issues of the day. Better voter education,
whether that means more (and more intelligent) media voices or reformed civics
education in the schools, isn’t going to change that, either.
What is actually needed is a set of conditions under
which fewer questions are decided by democratic politics, which is, even in its
highly refined American form, a pretty blunt instrument. Some questions are
inherently political, but most are not. We needed a positive act of the federal
government to rally the country in making war on the Nazis, but invading Normandy
is a different thing from invading the kindergarten toilets in Grover, N.C. I’m
with Henry David Thoreau: “I heartily accept the motto,—‘That government is
best which governs least;’ and I should like to see it acted up to more rapidly
and systematically.”
Which is to say, there’s a time for political activism,
but we could do with a bit of political inactivism, too.
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