FEAR
NOT THE ACT OF VOTING (FEAR ITS BEING WILLFULLY
DIMINISHED)
1 November 2004
51.3%
of the voting age population of the United States
took part in the 2000 presidential vote. That was
3.8% less than in 1992, and 11.8% lower than in
the 1960 presidential election. But in between,
there has been a consistent pattern of turnout under
60%, a disturbing if enigmatic aspect of American
political life. Some have said it means the US is
a democracy without the people. And polls show that
a significant majority of American citizens believe
the government does not represent their interests.
As
such, there is an urgent need to understand the
psychological motivations for resisting the right
to choose one's government. Could it be that some
people hold on to a childhood fantasy that they
will live a life so free it need not recognize the
authority of any political body? Perhaps. Could
it be that there is a purism inherent in the American
ideal of democracy that inspires some to see the
most honest vote as the abstaining vote? Perhaps.
While
for many people who consider themselves "mainstream"
Americans, the mode of thought known as existential
philosophy remains impenetrably alien and hauntingly
devoid of traditional references for moral rectitude,
it has a fundamental principle which speaks of the
moral obligation to participate in a democracy:
radical freedom.
Radical
freedom is a radical idea, but it does not mean
absolute, or even partial relativism: instead, it
is an attempt to overthrow the corrupting influence
of traditional moral determinism, the idea that
certain thoughts or actions are inherently moral
or immoral, without regard to individual choice
or to consequence. Within the scope of radical freedom,
the individual is required to choose at every moment,
to decide with every breath whether life should
continue, whether one identity or another is preferable,
whether peace or conflict should prevail.
Every
moment is replete with choices, and so the individual
is responsible for the shape and the nature of the
life that is lived, or achieved, or dreamed. It
is important to know this in order to contemplate
the meaning of so many citizens' flight from the
urgency of suffrage.
The
democratic principle specifies that the government
labors at the suffrage of the electorate: this means
that elected officials are subjects of the populace,
servants whose "authority" is really a
form of subservience rendered as authority for the
good of the people, and in order to maintain and
protect the system by which the people stand at
the top of the societal structure.
This
means the work of the government is the responsibility
of the voter; there is a profound responsibility
implied, and the complexity of the field of influences
and interests is such that individuals who find
themselves held up as candidates to high office,
often have created many enemies and committed unfortunate
blunders or even abuses along the way. Combine these
two factors, and an honest person may say they cannot
make a choice that feels comfortable.
The
question is, however, more psychological than moral:
the individual person, within the picture of a private,
emotional existence, feels the world as a terrain
across which a series of images, ideas and preferences
wield either more or less influence. There is a
basic impulse to defend what one perceives as one's
own terrain, the territory where the self is safe
to exist and to be free from the arbitrary interference
of beings or forces perceived as impertinent.
Abstaining
from the vote may appear to demonstrate some level
of principle or of independence of mind... as if
it were a way of securing the landscape of the independently
developed self, the preferred inner life of a given
human being... but one of the major candidates will
still take office and will implement many or most
of the strategies put forth during the campaign.
The society will be governed, and people will rise
or fall in wellbeing, will gain or lose liberty,
according to that governance.
As
such, to withhold one's vote is to cast a vote,
to alter the mathematical playing field and "lower
the bar" for victory. This lowering of the
bar means that the abstaining vote has precisely
the opposite effect of what its only principled
argument could be: instead of acting against insufficiency
of candidates, it aids the rise of less worthy figures
to high office.
When
the winning candidate can be elected with a plurality
(or even coming in second in a plurality) of only
51% of the electorate, we are faced with a situation
where less than 1/4 of the population is choosing
the nation's most powerful figure. This is not a
healthy manifestation of democratic principle, because
it enables the structure meant to serve the liberty
and resilience of the individual self to diminish
the dignity and meaning of that self, and to redirect
the energies of that overall structure toward other
ends, other interests altogether.
So
to all those blessed with the opportunity to make
a concrete choice to either elevate or lower the
bar for discourse, governance and the granting of
popular authority: fear not the act of voting...
fear not the possibility of choosing poorly... fear
the diminishing of the vote itself, the diminishing
of your entire sphere of meaning and influence by
the degrading of the mathematics of democracy.