The core flaw in our democracy

Our understanding of what politics in a democracy should be like is sadly lacking. In fact, the yawning chasm between how we act and how we should act is big enough to swallow the world, leaving nothing but a sad memory of a nice place behind… and is likely to do so.

Everyone has heard of Machiavelli, made famous through his (tongue-in-cheek) advice to his patron about sly deceptions and the pursuit of power over all else. That’s how politics in undemocratic and chaotic societies works; there are no rules and power is everything. That’s our history.

In the modern world we have tamed that conflict. Instead of the barbaric power-mad conniving of our overlords we let rival factions compete peacefully for votes. Who wins power is decided by who persuades voters the best. This has its subtleties: do you persuade people to think you have the best position, or do you concentrate of persuading those who already think so actually to make the effort to vote? Do you hope that by energising your base they go out and convert others for you?

This is fantastic progress. But it’s still basically the same idea: rival groups compete for power through a mixture of trickery, generous promises to the wavering and flowery rhetoric that wins broader support. Of course, the generous promises come directly from public taxes without going through the intermediate step of becoming our leaders’ personal wealth. That wealth, and the wealth of their supporters, pays for the promises to be made – it pays for the research to find out what to promise, and the advertisements to let everyone know. We pay for those promises that are kept.

What hasn’t changed from our barbaric past is the focus on rival factions. What else should we be thinking about? Well, truth and facts seem to have got lost in all this. Yes, the supposition is that truth is more persuasive for the voters, but all the evidence is that this is, well, not true. Does this persuade you? If not, it merely proves my point that truth doesn’t persuade!

People derisively dismiss technocratic government, which they summarize as allowing experts to run things; it’s a matter of faith that democracy is best. It protects us against tyranny and complete meltdown of society, because the people can trust themselves to vote in their interests – and if they don’t, at least they chose the result deliberately. Yet at the same time we put our trust in the science that has achieved modern society: our food production, our communications technology, our transport…

Where does the science of government stop and the legitimate arena of political conflict begin? At the moment, we assume that wherever the politicians choose to go is a legitimate place for them to bring their conflict. Just like when Roman gladiators left the arena and started hacking at the spectators, everyone cheered, munching their dormice and leaded wine and … no, wait. They had guards to send any straying slaves back to where they belonged. Actually, comparing modern politicians to gladiators is laughable. It makes them seem much braver and more macho than they are. But they are public servants, and modern politics is as much about the spectacle and as much about revealing truth or persuading people. Perhaps a sports simile is more appropriate? They’re like footballers, and we should expect the ‘game’ to be played on the pitch and according to the rules.

In fact, it’s very like a sport, in that most people have their favourite side, and the most important thing to them is that that side wins. If one of their players dives for a penalty, it’s clever gamesmanship; if an opposition player does it, it’s dishonourable and dishonest. The rules should apply strictly to others, but are a guideline for us.

We invoke modern concepts of ‘the marketplace of ideas’ to suggest that the wisdom of the crowd is best and democracy will always reach the truth. And yet apart from these occasional passing references, we ignore the truth as a goal. Maybe a crowd could collectively determine what is true (a dubious claim in itself), but not when the crowd isn’t even looking to buy that particular product! The goal is always for our side to win! Truth matters only because lies and lack of understanding are a convenient way to mock and belittle the opponents. Truth isn’t the goal; it’s just one way to make the other side look bad.

Imagine if science worked that way, not only in academic research (where people are people and there is often rivalry) but also more widely? Imagine if half the passenger flights in the world were planned as if the world were flat, mostly driven by a few powerful organizations that demanded it. Imagine that all the discussion over which holiday to go on focussed on rival advertisements claiming that their location was sunnier, and occasionally on mocking the other airlines because a spokesman hadn’t worn a tie. Imagine if public broadcasters had all the airlines on some sort of Watchdog programme, and gave the flat-worlders as much airtime as anyone else, or possibly more.

Would that be a sensible way of doing things? And if holiday-makers ended up in the wrong places all the time, and the airlines with the most flat-world flights were the most sympathetic, offering discount return flights for people stranded, would you buy more tickets from those airlines?

A lot of government is exactly the same. We know that parties’ policies won’t work, or won’t achieve their goals, or cannot be combined with some of their other policies. But we value the assertion of intent more than the truth: we value the statement of identity more than expertise.

Identity politics; tribal politics; democratic politics – these are all the same, and they are all based on the same barbaric notion of politics as conflict and beating our opponents. Plato, 2,000 years ago, tried to imagine a different mode of governance, of philosopher kings who governed with wisdom. We mock his ideas because we have seen countless seemingly benign tyrants become tyrannical, but a core part of his observation remains as valid now as it was then: it is truth and justice that are the foundations of society, and a mob isn’t the best way to find either.

We should be co-operating, as scientists do, to find the best ways to run a country. Our political parties should be exploring different possibilities, sharing data and coming up with results… and we should reward those who have the best findings, not those with the most appealing conclusions. The space for genuine conflicts of opinion is minimal compared to what can be understood and known for certain. Not all opinions are equal, even if those who hold them are.

If we don’t value expertise; if we give platforms to liars and charlatans time after time without asking them to recant and repent; if we care about entertainment instead of truth and complex debate, then we might as well be in a dictatorship. After all, neither system will provide what is best for us, but at least a dictatorship doesn’t involve the soul-corrupting self-deceit that currently defines us. Without a drive for truth, we are just semi-wild apes following our leader because he has covered his rival with more mud.