I posted a link to Tim Farron’s rather good speech on Tumblr yesterday. Someone who’d been following me there for a few weeks posted Standard Aggressive Rant Number Five in response (take the couple of lines saying Thatcher wasn’t utterly evil out of the context of a speech that says she was wrong about everything important, in damaging, harmful ways that will take decades to fix, and use that to “prove” that Lib Dems are “really” evil, heartless bastards who deserve to be shot). I posted this in response, and thought it worth posting here too:
This is something I’ve talked about here before, but only in comments, and it’s a subject that keeps coming up, so I thought I’d better make it a main post.
My single biggest political issue, the one I care about more than any other, is making Britain’s democracy something closer to functional. If we could get the constitutional changes I want — freedom of speech, proper federal assemblies for the English regions, increased devolution to Scotland and Wales, a fully-elected second chamber, no monarchy (or no role whatsoever for the monarchy in the lawmaking process, at the very least), no involvement of the Church in government, and every level of government elected by STV (or AV in the case of single-member roles like the Mayor of London), I would gladly let my political opponents have everything their own way, on every issue, for a full Parliament, because a properly working democracy can fix any problem, no matter how severe, while with a broken one like we have now it’s impossible to fix any of the major problems facing our economy, our environment, and our society.
So why, if democracy is so important to me (and the fact that the two major parties have spent this entire Parliament blocking those reforms while the Lib Dems have spent the entire Parliament fighting for them is, more than anything else, why I stay in the party despite any problems I have with the current government — it’s proof that they really are still better than the rest) why do I find the whole concept of referendums somewhat repellent?
There are many reasons, but it boils down to the same reason why I think that representative democracy is a real solution to many of our problems. It’s that I think people giving their informed opinions can only end up making the world a better place.
Most of us don’t have a real understanding of most of the business of government. I certainly don’t. There are issues — constitutional issues, civil liberties, technological issues, LGBT+ rights, copyright law — where I have very strong opinions based on serious long-term study of the facts and ideas in question. There are other issues — health, education, economic equality, the environment — where I have some idea of what kind of outcome I’d like to see, but no idea which of several competing policies might bring about those outcomes. And there are yet others — most economic issues, most foreign policy — where I simply don’t have a clue.
I suspect this is the case for 95% of people, or more. The areas that we know about may be vastly different, but everyone cares about some political issue enough to have an informed opinion about it, and everyone has blind spots where they’re clueless.
Now, in a referendum, the chances of any individual actually having a clue about that particular issue are small — and as we’ve seen with both the AV referendum and the Scottish independence referendum, the campaigns generate so much more heat than light that it’s effectively impossible for an ordinary voter to educate herself on the subject once a campaign has started. This means that in a referendum, noise swamps signal, and the chance of getting the “right” answer (where “right” is the one that will actually make most people happiest, or that most people would choose had they all the facts, or however you want to define it) is no better than chance.
This might suggest that democracy itself is fundamentally flawed, were it not for the fact that we have representatives.
For all that professional politicians are a despised class, they are people who are paid to spend all their working lives becoming experts on every aspect of governance at their level (that not all of them do so is partly due to the stupid system we have). Where they don’t have the expertise themselves, they defer to colleagues — in the same party so at least theoretically sharing the same values — who do. So in a representative democracy, such as I’d like to see (and, to the extent that we have one, in our present system), legislation is made by people who know what they’re talking about on every issue — something most of us (who have jobs that involve things other than knowing about every detail of politics) don’t have the time or inclination for.
So surely, then, this means that we should just have rule by our betters, and not bother with elections at all, if people don’t know as much as the politicians?
No — and this is the important bit about representative democracy, but it’s the bit that gets ignored, or glossed over, or not explained properly when we talk about this — because representative democracy is a great way of cancelling out ignorance and getting only the right answers out. It’s not a perfect way, but it’s very good.
Say you, I, and a neighbour all lived in the constituency of Hornsey & Wood Green (which I’ve picked for the example because it has one of the better current MPs), and we all have very different areas of knowledge. My big issue is democratic reform, yours is equality for LGBT+ people, and our neighbour’s is ending female genital mutilation.
I look at the candidates, see that Lynne Featherstone is good on democratic reform, and vote for her. You look at the candidates, see that Lynne Featherstone was one of the main people responsible for bringing in same-sex marriage, and vote for her. Our neighbour looks at the candidates, sees that Lynne Featherstone is campaigning to end FGM in developing countries, and votes for her. If a candidate is good on all our individual issues (and on schools, on health, on taxation, and on whatever other issues people in the area care about) then all the people who know about those areas can vote for her.
The result is that I know that the candidate I vote for is good on the areas I care about, and assume she will be good on the other issues, because she’s paid to investigate them all (and she obviously comes to the same conclusions I do where we’ve got the same information). But if I’m wrong in that assumption — if she’s very good on civil liberties but lousy on education, say — then all the people who care about education will vote for someone else.
This means that in a properly functioning representative democracy, what you end up with is a result that is better than any individual voter would have come up with, because it presumes everyone is competent in the areas that they care about, and that their competencies reinforce each other and cancel out their incompetencies. Someone who is good on most issues will be more likely to get elected than someone who is only good on one or two. Referendums, on the other hand, presume that everyone is equally competent at everything, which is dangerous nonsense.
Direct democracy is a tool for demagogues. Representative democracy is a tool for the people. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
This is going to be a contentious one, so an explanation about my explanation — in this post, I am going to talk about Libertarianism as it pertains to “geek culture”, and specifically to SF fandom. When I do so, I am going to generalise hugely. Please remember that I am talking not about Libertarianism as coherent political philosophy, nor about the policy positions of the Libertarian Party (and for the most part the Libertarians I’m talking about would not be members of that party, but Libertarian Republicans), and if something I say doesn’t apply to a specific Libertarian, it doesn’t apply to that person and I accept that unreservedly.
Libertarianism, as it manifests in SF fandom, is a curiously American belief system. While Libertarianism as a political philosophy has a long and relatively serious history, with its roots in the classical Liberalism of John Stuart Mill (roots which my own political views share, though Libertarians deviate from my understanding of Mill in a number of important ways) and classical anarchist thinkers, popular Libertarianism in the US comes largely from two science fiction writers, Ayn Rand and Robert A Heinlein.
Rand, by far the less talented of the two, is also the easiest to sum up and, unfortunately, the more influential. Quite simply, Rand was someone who saw how bad the Bolshevik revolution in Russia was first-hand, came over to America and saw that many intellectuals were going on about how wonderful Uncle Joe Stalin was, and overreacted wildly to this, not least because she spent much of the ensuing few decades off her head on speed, and so very inclined to paranoia. She developed a “philosophy”, Objectivism, which she expounded in a bunch of tediously unreadable dystopian SF novels, each longer than the last, but which simply boiled down to reversing all the logical errors of the Communists and thus coming up with a lot of logical errors all of her very own. Her main “principle”, if you can call it that, is that selfishness is the greatest good of all, and that anyone who tries to stop a man of will from doing whatever he wants is evil.
Heinlein was a more nuanced thinker, and a better writer. His political positions changed over time quite considerably, and are best represented in his major works — Menippean satires of which Stranger In A Strange Land is probably the best known. Having read most of Heinlein’s work, the only consistent views he seems to have held throughout his life are:
- Women, especially pregnant women, should be protected at all costs, and any man who harms a woman should die.
- Serving in the military during time of war is the duty of every man, whatever his beliefs about the war in question
- Homosexuals are more to be pitied than punished; every kind of sexual freedom is a good thing (especially incest — Heinlein really, really, liked writing about how there is nothing wrong with having sex with your own mum. I mean, really liked it).
- People should be left alone to do whatever they want
- Blood donation is a very good thing.
While he expressed his political views in his major works, they also informed a lot of his pulpy works (Heinlein, more than most SF writers, could switch between the two modes with relative ease), to the extent that there is now a major sub-genre of SF — “military SF” — that is based almost exclusively around imitations of Heinlein’s stories of how space marines should protect the womenfolk. (Yes, that is a caricature of Heinlein, no I don’t think it a totally unfair characterisation of the parts of his work that are being drawn from).
From Heinlein and Rand, then, a sort of consensus ultra-simplified Libertarianism became, if not the predominant political belief of SF fans (who, like every other sufficiently-large group, cover the whole political spectrum), the belief system of a relatively large minority of them. The beliefs of this version of Libertarianism boil down to:
- Government is the only enemy of liberty, or the only one worth bothering with
- “An armed society is a polite society” — guns make people behave
- Securing the borders is one of only two legitimate functions of government
- “There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch” — economics is a zero-sum game, and if you’re giving someone government welfare handouts, you must be taking them from someone else, who actually earned them.
The implications of this will be discussed tomorrow. For those who want a hint — Altermeyer.
(I was actually going to discuss the implications today, but I’m too tired and headachey to finish it off today.)