The Republic of Wishful Thinking
The Republic of Wishful Thinking: When Voters Act Like
Drunk Aunts at a Wedding (and What It Means for Democracy)
The hallowed halls of democratic theory often echo with
pronouncements of rational citizens diligently weighing policy platforms, a
vision as comforting as a warm cup of chai on a Delhi winter evening. Yet, a
cadre of sharp-eyed thinkers, armed with data and a healthy dose of skepticism,
have been busy pulling back the velvet curtains, revealing a far more… human
drama unfolding in the voting booth. From Lippmann’s early anxieties about our
“pictures in our heads” to the more recent, data-driven dissections of Achen
and Bartels, a common, often hilarious, thread emerges: the idealized voter is
largely a delightful fiction, akin to finding a clean public toilet in Chandni
Chowk – theoretically possible, but rarely encountered.
Adding a layer of sociological complexity, Achen and
Bartels, in their formidable Democracy for Realists, deliver a
statistical uppercut to the notion of policy-driven voting. They argue, with
compelling evidence, that “For most citizens, political preferences are not
deeply rooted convictions about policy that guide their electoral choices.
Rather, they are more like partisan loyalties or social identities.” [3]
It’s less about a meticulous comparison of manifestos and more about, well, “my
family has always voted for the banyan tree party.” This echoes the insights of
Samuel L. Popkin in The Social Psychology of Political Life, who
suggests voters employ “low-information
rationality,” relying on cues and shortcuts often derived from their
social milieu. He notes, “Voters use the information they have at hand,
however limited, to make reasonable inferences about candidates and issues.”
[4] These “reasonable inferences,” however, can be heavily colored by group
affiliation, a phenomenon Seth Godin explores in Tribalism, reminding us
that “Humans need tribes. They need to belong.” [5] This inherent
tribalism can easily translate into unwavering political allegiance, where
policy takes a backseat to the comforting embrace of the in-group.
The implications for democratic accountability are, to put
it mildly, a bit of a shambles. The traditional model hinges on the idea that
voters reward good governance and punish incompetence. Yet, as Achen and
Bartels meticulously demonstrate, voters often engage in what could be termed
“blind retrospection,” blaming or crediting incumbents for events entirely
outside their control. As they sardonically point out, “Voters routinely
punish incumbents for droughts, shark attacks, and even college football
results.” [6] This paints a picture of a rather capricious electorate,
whose judgment can be swayed by the vagaries of weather and sporting outcomes,
hardly the stern, policy-focused judge envisioned by democratic purists. This
challenge to the efficacy of electoral accountability resonates with the
broader concerns raised in Accountability in Governance, which
highlights the intricate web of modern governance and the difficulty in
assigning clear responsibility. As one contributor aptly states, “Accountability
is a slippery concept, often invoked but rarely fully realized.” [7]
So, where does this leave the grand experiment of democracy?
Is it all just a well-dressed farce, a system where the pronouncements of the
electorate are as predictable as a Bollywood plot twist? David Van Reybrouck,
in his provocative Against Elections, certainly raises eyebrows by
suggesting we might be overly
enamored with the electoral process itself. He astutely observes, “Elections
were never intended to be the sole instrument of democracy; in fact, for
centuries, they were considered aristocratic.” [8] He advocates for
exploring alternative forms of citizen participation, like sortition, reminding
us that drawing lots was once considered a more democratic method than voting.
However, to declare democracy a complete failure based on
these realistic assessments might be a tad melodramatic. As Winston Churchill
famously quipped, “Democracy is the worst form of government, except for all
the others.” [9] The critiques presented by these thinkers, while sobering,
offer a crucial corrective rather than a death knell. They force us to confront
the messy, irrational, and undeniably human realities of political behavior. As
Isaiah Berlin wisely noted, “The best that can be said for democracy is that
it is less iniquitous and less inefficient than other forms of government.”
[10] Perhaps the success of democracy lies not in achieving the utopian ideal
of perfectly rational citizen participation, but in providing a framework for
peaceful transitions of power, a degree of representation (however imperfect),
and the potential, however flawed, for holding leaders accountable.
Ultimately, the common thread running through these works is
a call for intellectual honesty. It’s a demand to shed the rose-tinted
spectacles of democratic idealism and grapple with the complexities of how real
people actually behave in the political arena. As Niccolò Machiavelli, a
seasoned realist himself, advised centuries ago, “It is better to be feared
than loved, if you cannot be both.” [11] While perhaps not directly
applicable to voter behavior, his pragmatism underscores the importance of
understanding the world as it is, not as we wish it to be. Similarly,
understanding the "drunk aunt" tendencies of the electorate – the biases,
the loyalties, the occasional inexplicable outburst – is not to denigrate the
democratic project, but to equip ourselves with a more accurate map of the
political terrain. As John Stuart Mill eloquently argued, even in defense of
liberty, “The only freedom which deserves the name, is that of pursuing our
own good in our own way, so long as we do not attempt to deprive others of
theirs, or impede their efforts to obtain it.” [12] This pursuit of our own
good, however, is often filtered through the messy lens of human psychology and
social dynamics.
In conclusion, the collective wisdom of these thinkers
paints a portrait of democracy far more nuanced and, at times, farcical than
the traditional textbook version. The
"folk theory" crumbles under the weight of empirical evidence and
insightful analysis. Yet, this unraveling of the ideal is not necessarily a
cause for despair. Instead, it’s an invitation to a more mature and realistic
engagement with the challenges and possibilities of democratic governance. By
acknowledging the "drunk aunt" in the voting booth, we can perhaps
learn to navigate the political wedding with a bit more wisdom, a touch more
humor, and a far greater understanding of the wonderfully flawed creatures that
we are.
References:
[1] Lippmann, Walter. Public Opinion. New York:
Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1922, p. 15. [2] Caplan, Bryan. The Myth of the
Rational Voter: Why Democracies Choose Bad Policies. Princeton: Princeton
University Press, 2007, p. 1. [3] Achen, Christopher H., and Larry M. Bartels. Democracy
for Realists: Why Elections Do Not Produce Responsive Government.
Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2016, p. 3. [4] Popkin, Samuel L. The
Reasoning Voter: Communication and Persuasion in Presidential Campaigns.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991, p. 7. (Note: While "The Social
Psychology of Political Life" is mentioned in the prompt, "The
Reasoning Voter" contains similar arguments about low-information
rationality and is more directly focused on voter behavior.) [5] Godin, Seth. Tribes:
We Need You to Lead Us. New York: Portfolio, 2008, p. 1. [6] Achen and
Bartels, Democracy for Realists, p. 16. [7] Bovens, Mark, Robert E.
Goodin, and Thomas Schillemans, eds. Accountability in Governance.
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014, p. 3. [8] Van Reybrouck, David. Against
Elections: The Case for Democracy by Lot. London: Bodley Head, 2016, p. 15.
[9] Churchill, Winston S. Speech in the House of Commons, November 11, 1947.
[10] Berlin, Isaiah. "Four Essays on Liberty." Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 1969, p. 134. [11] Machiavelli, Niccolò. The Prince.
Translated by Harvey C. Mansfield. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998,
p. 51. [12] Mill, John Stuart. On Liberty. London: John W. Parker and
Son, 1859, Chapter III.
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