Understanding Democracy: Challenges, Models, and the Path Forward

Does it ever feel like our democracy is…broken? [tense music] Like most Americans,   I grew up learning that democracy was  the best form of government. Full stop.

But then, what am I supposed  to make of American life today? A recent poll found that more than half of Americans think our democracy isn’t going well. So, what’s the deal? Is it possible  democracy isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?

Hi! I'm Ellie Anderson and this is Crash Course Political Theory. [THEME MUSIC] This might feel like a distinctly modern problem,  

but a government run by the people, /for/  the people has had critics for centuries. Like, when the French philosopher  Alexis de Tocqueville visited the   United States two hundred years ago, he was pretty skeptical.

And way before that, the Greek philosopher Plato had mixed feelings, too. In one of the earliest written works of  political theory, “The Republic,” Plato   drew a contrast between what was tantalizing about Athenian democracy and what was realistic.

He worried that citizens in a democracy would enjoy, quote,   “too much of the unmixed wine of freedom.” And he imagined the typical citizen living life by their own whims, saying: “Sometimes he drinks  

heavily while listening to the flute; at other times, he drinks only water and is on a diet;   sometimes he goes in for physical training; at other times, he’s idle and neglects everything;   and sometimes he even occupies himself with what he takes to be philosophy.”

Honestly, sounds like me every January when I try to start all my New Year's resolutions at once. But to Plato, this was chaos! Without a firm set of values to live by,  

Plato worried citizens in a democracy would veer willy-nilly from one conviction to another. And if that were the case, how could society be stable? Like, if everyone can do, think, and feel however they please, do we lose track of what’s true?

Do we let personal feelings become  more important than objective facts? I’ve never in my life done that. From what I can tell, no democracy, past or present,  

has fallen because of too much flute-listening. [flute trills] But joking aside, I can still see the essence of Plato’s worry in this central contradiction. The beauty of a democracy and the danger of it are one in the same. Everyone gets a  

say. Even if their say is ill-informed, factually inaccurate, or driven by fear, hate, or paranoia. I was taught that democracy was an invention straight out of sixth-century Athens. But with a little digging, I learned  that origin story isn’t quite right.

For instance, the ancient Greeks practiced slavery,   and they didn’t consider women and children citizens—not super democratic of them. And people were practicing democratic  decision-making long before them.

Like, much of what we know about  prehistoric hunter-gatherers   suggests they gave everybody in the group an equal say and made collective choices. Hunter-gatherers were  often organized into very  

small groups. But when you’re dealing  with fifty million people instead of,   say, fifty, it gets harder to reach a  decision that everybody’s happy with. So I guess it shouldn’t be surprising that, in the modern world, democracy gets such mixed reviews.

Let’s have a look at the polling, shall we? Yeah, turns out it’s not just a U.S. problem. In thirty-six other   democratic countries surveyed, people agreed.

Democracy is… mid. Mixed reviews aside, I still think that some form   of democracy is better than a government run by, say,  

the military or a king. But people don’t always agree on which version of democracy is best. [Rhythmic music plays] So I did a deep dive on   the different types of democracy and what thinkers of the past had to say about them.

As is often the case, a good place to start is with the philosopher Jürgen Habermas,   who describes three models of democracy. Let’s think about them through one of the most contentious group decisions of all time.

Imagine you and I, and everyone  else watching this video,   are on a road trip. How should we decide…what to listen to? Let’s start with the republican view, which,  

by the way, isn’t “republican” in the  partisan sense that we commonly use. This meaning of “republican” describes  the perspective that democracy is a   shared civic value, where liberty is  exercised in service of a common good.

So, in our road trip scenario,   we figure that learning something during our time together would help us all. Hypothetically, we take a vote and  listen to an educational podcast,  

like, I dunno, Crash Course Pods: The  Universe, or Overthink. Hypothetically! But the liberal model of democracy, which again doesn’t mean “liberal” in the colloquial,   partisan sense, would take a different  approach. It emphasizes individuals’ rights.

So we might decide to all listen to our  own thing in our own headphones. I keep   my sixties folk, you keep your  mumble rap, to each their own. And then there’s the third view, which  Habermas believes is the best of both worlds.

According to the deliberative model, it’s  super important for diverse people with   diverse views to talk it out and reach some kind of consensus. The space where we might do this,   whether literal or virtual, is called the public sphere.

So, after talking it through, we’d all agree,   as rational adults, that of course we  should listen to American treasure,   friend of all people, unifier of worlds,  Dolly Parton, right? [guitar strums]

Right?! Okay, maybe that’s a bit optimistic. Reaching consensus isn’t easy, not even  in a public sphere the size of a minivan.

And there’s another problem — the issue of representation,   where we consider who represents whom. Maybe each citizen should represent  themselves, like in a direct democracy,  

where individuals weigh in directly on national issues. That’s a system favored by about two-thirds of the world today. And yet the most common form of democracy today is a representative democracy, where citizens elect  

officials who deliberate on their behalf and, ostensibly at least, vote in their interest. But what does it really mean to have someone vote on your behalf? I could go my whole   life being “represented” by someone who doesn’t look, think, or vote like me.

And it turns out, I’m not the only person who’s wondered   about this. There's a growing debate about whether representative democracy is truly the best way. [news theme plays] On one hand, it’s convenient  

to elect someone to research and weigh in on the issues for you, rather than hauling yourself to   the polls for every little thing. I mean, none of us has time to be experts on everything. But there are also risks in putting your trust in  

someone whose decisions might not  reflect what you’d actually want. And then there are questions about whose opinions are most important on particular issues. But who falls in and out of bounds isn’t always so clear-cut. This is such a fundamental issue  

for democracy that it’s got its own super creative name: the boundary problem. When it comes to public education, should a parent’s opinion matter more, or a teacher’s? Or when determining oil regulations,  should a former oil executive,  

if elected, be able to serve on the board? These are weighty questions: who should represent whom and when should their voices count?  I could go down that rabbit hole for days and still never get a straight answer.

And then, there’s also the question of participation:   are people actually using their voices? In the United States, 2020 saw the highest voter turnout of any presidential election since  

1900. But even then, only two-thirds of people eligible to vote actually made it to the polls. [inquisitive marimba music plays] Which doesn’t necessarily mean non-voters   don’t care or want to participate. In some states, there are barriers in place that  

restrict voting, like voter ID laws,  shortened voting times, and so forth,   that disproportionately affect the elderly, folks with disabilities, and people of color. On top of that, when people feel  their votes and voices don’t matter,  

they tend to stop using them. Which raises the question: Can a decision really be   considered “democratic” if a large chunk of the population didn’t even weigh in? [music cuts] It’s messy, right? Just look at the news.

There’s so much conflict about how democracy should work,   sometimes it seems like we should just scrap the whole thing and start over from scratch. And while it seems there certainly  are some folks who advocate for that,  

I’m more interested in a different,  less pessimistic perspective. Bear with me. Maybe the struggles of  modern democracy are a feature, not a bug. Some thinkers advocate for the model of radical  

democracy—one where we continuously debate and intentionally extend the ideals of equality,   especially to marginalized groups  whose voices have long been sidelined. The philosopher John Dewey subscribed to this view,  

seeing democracy less as a political  institution and more as a way of life.   He believed we should work to build communities that allow individuals to do their own thing. The trick, in his words, is to “harmonize  the development of each individual with the  

maintenance of a society in which the individual activities will contribute to the common good.” I just love his use of “harmonize” here.  Like, the idea is to keep the individual,   the society, and the common good in  tune, which requires ongoing tweaking.

More contemporary scholars Ernesto Laclau   and Chantal Mouffe say that radical  democracy is the root of democracy. I’m a sucker for etymology, so I love how literal this is: the word radical comes from  

the Latin word for root. And because roots are the deepest part of a plant, we used the word radical   to describe something as fundamental before we used it to describe something as extreme. OK, my producer’s telling me to cool it on the etymology  

lesson. Until next time, fellow word nerds. Anyway, Laclau and Mouffe advocate for agonism, an approach to radical democracy   that makes space for a variety of ideas, rather than blotting them out by striving for agreement.

And they say that differences  aren’t wrinkles to be smoothed over,   but nuances to be accommodated, the  very spirit that keeps democracy going. For example, the philosopher and activist Cornel West has long argued that democracy  

in the US is broken. But that doesn’t mean he wants another form of government entirely. He argues that radical democracy is the  only way to save it and avoid giving in   to cynicism. For him, the path forward is to expand democracy — to point out injustices,  

push for reforms, and demand  equality of power and resources. So, okay: democracy is more complicated than picking a   road trip playlist. But I’d still say that it’s sort of like music,  

in that we don’t always agree on which  version is best. [invigorating music plays] Getting it right is high-stakes. And if it  feels messy, complicated, and challenging,   well, maybe it’s supposed to feel that way. Maybe we’re supposed to struggle with democracy,  

revise it, fight for it—because the project is never finished. Next time, we’ll talk about liberty—and  what happens when one person’s version of   the good life means a bad life for  someone else. I’ll see you there. 

Thanks for watching this episode of Crash Course Political Theory which was filmed   at the Basteel Studio, and was made with the help of all these nice people. If you want   to help keep Crash Course free for everyone, forever, you can join our community on Patreon.