Politics Matter, Obviously

We Need to Renovate Our Democracy, not Tear it Down

If I learned one lesson observing mostly fragile democracies during three decades as a diplomat focused on political matters, it is that—this should come as no surprise—politics matter.  On the plus side, politics can find creative solutions for thorny problems (e.g. Singapore, South Korea, Holland…).  Less admirably, they can convert manageable challenges into needless dysfunction and chaos (e.g. on second thought, I prefer not to name names).  One might even say, in a nod to John Milton, that politics can make a heaven of hell or a hell of heaven, depending. 

Photo by Patrick Tomasso on Unsplash

Rightly or wrongly, politics get a bad rap, particularly in democracies.  This may be because deciding ‘what gets done’ and ‘who gets what’ is inherently messy and always a slog.  Competing interests, priorities, and points of view are always in play and frequently in conflict.  Constant negotiations are needed to forge a minimum consensus, a workable compromise, a basic way forward.  Tough trade-offs are part of the deal.  Some person or group—or several or even many—will lose something, or fail to gain.  Frustration and discontent will follow as a matter of course, often magnified for political ends.  Meanwhile, broad public gains are often spread so wide as to scarcely be felt by any one person while losses tend to strike more narrowly, sometimes at the heart of powerful—hence, very loud—interest groups.  

Moreover, even assuming a decent satisfaction with the decision itself and the way it gets made (a big assumption in most cases), there are many places for the thing to go off the rails. Particularly during the critical implementation phase. Public service delivery, the bottom line for most people, depends on functioning institutions. These can be in short supply, or not quite fit for the purpose at hand.

Failure is not just an option in politics, it is inevitable.  Success is (at best) partial, a work in progress, subject to constant review and revision.  The task is never complete.  Things could always be better. If you’re wondering why the constant clamor, particularly in the context of a cacophonous democracy like ours, that’s mostly why. 

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But not only.  The problem becomes when the failure of politics reaches critical mass.  Once a critical mass of people no longer believes in the system, the scale tips. A threshold is crossed. This situation grows precarious. The system itself moves into the red zone, its survival increasingly at risk.

In Latin America, for example, where I spent most of my final 20 years as a diplomat, the political systems in several of the countries I served were strained to the breaking point. The challenges they faced seemed so vast as to be beyond the capacities of any one government to address: Widespread poverty.  Structural exclusion.  Rampant crime.  A lack of jobs, basic services, and infrastructure.  You name it.  As a result, many people had turned against the system. Cynical, frustrated, and often angry, they actively opposed a political structure and process they saw as not serving their interests.  The significant mass of voters represented by this group even had a name: the “anti-system” bloc. 

I remember thinking that widespread anti-system sentiment was both perfectly understandable and highly problematic in such places.  Understandable because it reflected the conspicuous, often painful shortcomings of political systems that failed to deliver for a critical mass of people.  Problematic because it opened the door to populist demagoguery, political instability, or both.  (In fairness to the well-intentioned among the governments I observed and worked alongside, they were often doing their best with imperfect tools under challenging circumstances.  Of course, not all governments even pretend to have good intentions or to serve the public interest). It sometimes seemed like a race against time, if not history, and one in which the odds of success seemed long.  Why?

For one, because authoritarians and demagogues find fertile ground where anti-system sentiment reaches critical mass.  Promising easy fixes, they rail against the rigged system, demonize the corrupt elites, and call for voters to burn down the barn.  Their overripe rhetoric typically reflects enough truth about the broken system to resonate politically while pointedly exacerbating the perception and—importantly—doing precious little to improve anything at all.  Quite the opposite.  

The deeper problem is this: However politically resonant, vowing to tear down a rigged system or attack its elites turns out not to fix anything.  It offers no positive vision or practical policy solution.  It puts no food on the table, creates no jobs, and—critically over the longer term—improves no institutional capacity.  Nothing so tangible or boring or important as that.

The US Poised on the Anti-System Brink

It is unsettling to see the United States still poised on this brink.  It sometimes seems that our politics are doing their best to turn the heaven of all our advantages into the hell of dysfunction, polarization, and paralysis.  How can this be?

For one, many Americans don’t believe our political system works for them and have turned against it.  Take our two main political parties.  With some exaggeration to underscore the point, one appears to have abandoned the dwindling middle classes in favor of “super-ordinate” elites in technology, finance, and the high-pay professions while embracing fringe cultural causes that make most Americans cringe.  The other brought us the failed Iraq war and the 2008 financial meltdown, let off those responsible with a wink and a nudge, cut taxes for corporations and the wealthy again, and passed the buck back to the people.¹  

Then along came Mr. Trump, who, after dismissing the option of a third party challenge as nonviable, set his sights on the big two.  Unperturbed by any ideology other than opportunism, Trump seized the opportunity of this political vacuum to take over the more vulnerable party and transform it into the vehicle for his personal ambitions, and still hasn’t let go.  Neither, apparently, has a critical mass of his politically disaffected followers let go of him.  

However puzzling it may seem to some, the persistence of a figure like Trump on our political scene—and as a serious contender to become our next president (again) no less—has several good explanations.  But the persistent anti-system sentiment of a critical mass of Americans who feel unrepresented and under-served by our existing political structures and institutions is one core explanation.  This is why Trump’s tired railing against the broken system and vow to take down its corrupt elites continue to resonate. Who cares that, after all this time, he only has “concepts of a plan”? That was never the point, nor is it now.

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I don’t mean to belittle the views of those among the MAGA crowd who plan to vote for reasons of presumed self-interest or sincere belief in the vision or the policy approach—such as it is.  For their part, certain dark forces and interests (Musk, anyone?) have surely cut secret deals and expect to reap generous rewards should the game go their way. But the main problem, in my view, remains that too many Americans feel they have nothing to lose by giving the arsonist another opportunity to burn down the barn.  Even if most understand from prior experience that their plight won’t improve with their angel of retribution back on the throne, they look forward to the grim satisfaction of being joined in the wreckage by those who had sneered at them from their privileged perches splurging on the spoils of a corrupt system not worth saving. 

This counterintuitive feeling is eerily familiar.  I believe I’ve seen this movie before.

A Separate—and More Decisive—Critical Mass?

But the more politically consequential question is this: Will a separate and more decisive critical mass of Americans show up in greater force come November?  Some among this group (I am one) may even share the view that our system is flawed, fails to meet the needs of too many Americans, and requires serious reform. But it is not broken beyond repair.  Far from it.  On the contrary, flawed as it is, it is positively worth protecting, fixing, and striving to improve.  (One has difficulty even trying to imagine what better thing might replace it from the burning embers). To borrow a metaphor from the brilliant Harvard political scientist Danielle Allen, our home may need a serious renovation, but it is a far cry from being a tear down. (https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2023/01/31/danielle-allen-american-democracy-renovation-series/)

As such, we should cross our fingers that the forces of sanity and hope prevail over those of insanity and despair—preferably by a margin decisive enough to make even a patently spurious ex post facto electoral challenge absolutely unthinkable this time. If we are lucky enough to dodge this bullet, then the tough slog of politics will have just begun.

Photo by Jason Dent on Unsplash

1. I write as a rabid non-partisan centrist who took his constitutional oath seriously as a career diplomat and served presidents of both parties, including President Trump, with impartial professionalism for 30 years.  While no longer bound by formal Hatch Act restrictions, to the degree possible I still prefer to avoid pouring fuel on the pointlessly partisan, problem-inflaming fire.