“Jeremy Bentham however pointed out that the use even of a single name may imply a Petitio Principii [Question-Begging Epithet].”—W. Stanley Jevons
Jevons continues,
Similarly in Parliament a bill is often opposed on the ground that it is unconstitutional and therefore ought to be rejected; but as no precise definition can be given of what is or is not constitutional, it means little more than that the measure is distasteful to the opponent.
“Democracy” is also a word with no precise meaning, one that means whatever the user deems it to mean. Sure, the technical definition is rule by the people, but that rule takes many forms. Is it rule through plebiscites or representatives, or a combination of both? Do all have a right to vote, or is voting limited to some? Are the people constrained by a greater set of rules, such as a constitution, or can the majority rule as it sees fit? What about the state? Are its powers constrained by anything other than the next election?
At least one political ideology asserts that, since the people already decide policies and laws because they are the state, and the state is the people—both are one in a spiritual sense, so why bother voting?
What is a Healthy Democracy?
Every even year, but more so every other even year, the following claim rises above the din of daily political discourse: “The election before us is the most significant ever. The health of our democracy—and its future existence—depends on the right outcome.”
But what definition of democracy is each side referring to? And what does a healthy democracy look like?
Imagine this scene: You are outside your house looking into the evening sky. Your neighbors are outside as well, some are looking with you, others are anxiously shepherding their children inside, while others are desperately loading cars to escape a fallout that will consume them in the end. You stand almost paralyzed as you watch missiles streak to and fro, with some obviously heading your way—the end is near. You can only mutter, “Why is this happening?” Beside you, your neighbor, seemingly sanguine, replies, “Hey, at least we got to vote on the decision makers. My voice was heard. I’m happy with that.”
I pray such contrails never mar an evening sky, though the haunting specter of their possibility never fades away. In a more mundane setting, I’ve had conversations with those on the losing side of various issues and elections, such as discussions over an increase in local property taxes. Sure, those opposed to the increase were facing a tax of an additional $1200 per year, but instead of feeling defeated, they were happy to have been allowed to vote, believing their votes were counted.
Maybe a tax increase is only a pain or annoyance and doesn’t challenge your core beliefs. Maybe you aren’t bothered by a future with no gas burners or electric lawnmowers, or dictates regarding how much cash you can carry. But, what if, instead, the issue at hand strikes a more deeply-held, personal principle; an issue that decides whether the majority, through the state, can force a store owner to violate her beliefs under the threat of closing her store. Could an outcome that transfers her rights to the state simply be waved away with, “At least she got a chance to vote, I got a chance to vote, we all got a chance to vote and let our opposition be heard.” Or could it be waved away with the retort, “Don’t worry, we’ll get ‘em next election.”
Is a healthy democracy one where core beliefs and principles are left to a majority vote—even if voting is open to all and all have easy ballot access?
My Definition of a Healthy Democracy
Into the mix of definitions, I’ll add my assertion about a healthy democracy: a healthy democracy is one where the coming election is less significant than the previous one, with the knowledge that the following election will be even less significant, and so on.
I claim the most important and essential decisions of life cannot be resolved by a vote; they have to be resolved by voluntary association. What I believe—what I hold to be true—cannot be left to a majority decision. Certainly, there are ballot issues that decide how the state will control my life, but a winning ballot and subsequent legislation do not and will not change my beliefs.
A healthy democracy is not a system where all have equal access to ballots that decide whether or not I can enjoy hotdogs over an open fire in my backyard. It is not one where the state, at the behest of pesky puritans in Massachusetts or radicals in California, or conservative and libertarian-sympathetic fellow-travelers in the heartland, have the ability to micromanage my life in semi-rural Ohio, incur debts that will impoverish my children, or decide whether my sons will be drafted to fight the phantom of an empire that died three decades ago. Or whether missiles will fly to satisfy the blood-lust of some.
I don’t want to have to care how late the polling stations are open or how mail-in ballots are delivered, or who gets to vote and how often. I want ballots to decide only that which is of no real concern to mine, or of a trivial concern, such as whose colleague on the township board gets the contract for road salt.
Issues core to my being, such as who and how I choose worship, what I choose to believe and say, how I choose to defend myself, where I live and how I acquire, use, and dispose of my property, both personal and business, are to be left to voluntary associations. Putting those decisions to vote is not a solution—it’s a lie.
In my view, a healthy democracy is a system that puts only trivial matters to vote, leaving essential ones to voluntary associations.
