One of the commonplace arguments against democracy has always been that the masses, as ignorant and uncaring as they are, could not be bothered to pick a decent leader for themselves if their lives depended on it. The electoral contest, therefore, will always go to the candidate who is not the most reasonable or just, but so charming, shrewd, or manipulative as to outsmart his opponents, and the public’s easily-swayed hearts capture.
I haven’t found it unusual to hear thoughts onboard a similar train expressed by people I know, friends and acquaintances from whom all politics captures as much attention as the occasional chunk of debris in the nose. And they have their excuse ready. Why bother? No matter who wins, it’s always the same: things already amazingly bungled end up bungled again. It’s all so complicated anyway; what a relief not to have to care.
If one lacks the time or the spirit to, say, serve daily soup to the homeless and brighten the faces of the poor, one may be excused. But if one is handed the right to have a direct say in who one’s leaders are—those, in short, who manage our cities, our homes and schools, our civil service and our infrastructure, among innumerable other aspects of our daily lives—and tosses that bare minimum to the side, or worse, takes it for granted, then one has made a grave and unpardonable mistake. Proven correct, all those who imagined the right to vote, once established, would be carelessly wasted.
Must this be? Quite a lot of power is given to you in that little voting booth; one ought to look forward to donning such immense robes. You are, after all, expressing yourself on one of the most important topics, in the oldest and most honourable of ways.
Ancient Athens was and is well-known for being host to both the birth of the free, open democratic process, as well as perhaps its fullest flowering. ‘Democracy’, indeed, descends from the literal Greek for ‘rule by the people’, and there is no better description of the Athenian system. In addition to the regular elections of generals—the effective leaders of the city since war was constant—the administration of Athens itself was handled directly by citizens, selected by lot, filling different positions in turn. As well, citizens were expected to gather four times a month at the Assembly to discuss the issues with which the city was confronted, and decide on a plan of action. Those who were indifferent or did not bother to show up were quite openly denounced for uselessness.
What one can and should admire is the way the Athenians assiduously guarded their tradition, their staunch belief that every free human (well, man—women hadn’t yet won suffrage) had not just the right but the duty to serve and direct his city. This is a tradition we have inherited.
Quite obviously, there are problems with maintaining an Athens-style direct democracy in societies highly-populated, modern, and industrial. Which is why governments now more commonly involve the election of representatives of sections of the population to positions of power, in addition to several other improvements on the original Greek idea, including the right to vote for women. The main principle, however, remains the same: the sovereignty of the people, of the voter in the booth. In other words, the populace are to be considered the superiors, and the rulers their servants—not the other way around.
This is where the act of voting derives its importance. Unless every citizen who has the ability to mark a ballot does so, it cannot be known what the entirety of the population thinks of its leaders. That is, you will be ruled, but without having said a word about it, without your permission, without even your opposition. (After all, your vote is not only your chance to voice your like of a particular candidate, but your dislike of the other candidates.)
In fact, do not imagine you have cleverly eluded your responsibilities staying home on election night. You have still cast a vote, but for the tides of fate. You have stated, explicitly, that it does not matter to you who rules, and therefore that you effectively give your permission for anyone to rule. By your own making, you’ve placed yourself under a tyranny of chance and indifference.
But what a great and powerful gesture is the casting of a ballot; an elementary and fundamental right, though hard-won and easily lost, and not to be taken for granted. Not to be wasted, either: an empty-headed, defaced or otherwise spoiled ballot is a shame, not to say a total vindication of the naysayers. It is up to one personally to discredit all that babble about the ignorant masses, by taking it upon oneself to make a concerned and informed decision.
The most bizarre, and the most defeatist and indifferent thing I’ve heard is that one vote makes little difference. The whole point of an election is finally seen when the vote is counted, which comprises no more than a vast number of individual ballots. What would happen, one must ask, if every one of those ballot-markers decided theirs was futile? The foundation on which the system is built would collapse, for one, and it would also reveal something disgraceful and ungrateful about those for whom it was built.
It is also difficult to stomach any excuses about not having the time. Every effort has been made to make the process as easy and convenient as possible, and Toronto.ca has published a free and cohesive guide for prospective municipal voters.
Admittedly, the grandeur of national politics is more or less absent in a municipal election. Any municipal ballot, however, whether cast for mayor, city councillor or school trustee is done so in the shadow of issues no less compelling, and certainly more immediate: education, public transit, water, policing, taxation, waste and recycling, streets and roads, fire protection, housing, and the environment, among many others.
The vote, in essence, is an opportunity to express your thoughts—which, never doubt, are of vital importance (or at the very least, just as important as anyone else’s)—on all these matters, in one small, succinct gesture. But few things are as immense.
