Will changing our voting system be enough to restore faith in politics?
CANADIANS, MOST OF WHOM have a love-hate relationship with politicians (we love to hate them), are generally cynical about elected officials, mostly at the provincial and federal levels. We generalize two kinds of politician: those on the take, and those who haven’t yet been caught.
Only the most partisan among us would agree we’re well governed: from the overspending in Ottawa and the corruption and financial mismanagement at Queen’s Park right on down through regional and local governments, we’re hardly getting full value, yet alone anything resembling true representation.
Growing distrust of officials – very much warranted – and dwindling voter turnout have evoked much handwringing. Though largely window dressing, governments are making noises about reforming both the blatantly crooked election financing methods and the very way we vote itself, looking to make it more representative than the traditional first-pastthe-post system (the subject of a Fair Vote event last week in Elmira).
Such measures are long overdue, and will undoubtedly fall well short of protecting the public interest, but they are an improvement.
Complaining about government typically trumps discussing the weather as the Great Canadian Pastime. Would those of us with a litany of complaints be prepared, however, to do something about it? I’m thinking in particular of reforms that would move our democracy closer to the form practiced in ancient Greece, the foundation upon which resides the West’s complex and often dysfunctional (see America, United States of) democratic system.
Instead of elections, we could have a form of direct democracy, in which every citizen entitled to vote would get to have a say in how things are run. Unworkable? Perhaps, especially at the federal and provincial levels, but more probable at the local level – Athens, after all, had upwards of 60,000 eligible participants at one time, far more than in the townships, for instance.
Or we could use an allotment system, whereby names are drawn in a lottery system, something akin to jury duty. With a significant number of representatives, numbering dozens or even hundreds, this would be wore wieldy than having thousands of people out to vote on policy – online voting of this magnitude is certainly not ready for primetime.
The Greeks saw selection by lottery as more democratic, as it eliminates electioneering and removes money, class, popularity (especially important in this era of the cult of personality) and a host of other issues from the agenda in picking leaders. On the downside, critics argue, you might not get the best and brightest out to serve. Who, however, would argue that’s currently the case? And, with a large enough group, it all evens out in the end.
Of course, there are issues with essentially compelling people to serve as politicians: most of us are much too busy to even pay adequate attention to political matters, let alone take time out from our schedules to serve in government.
The fact that government has deteriorated to its current state is testament to what happens when we disengage from politics, ironically.
A loss of faith in politics and politicians can be tied to the way business is done in Ottawa, in the provincial legislatures and, to a lesser extent, in municipal governments, where power and decisions are typically ceded to unaccountable bureaucrats, developers and union lobbyists – the public good often left out of the equation.
Politicians have long exempted themselves from rules that apply to others. For instance, if a corporation lies in its advertising, it can be taken to the Competition Bureau. If corporate executives mislead their shareholders, the shareholders have the right to go to court and seek compensation. Likewise, there are laws requiring taxpayers, welfare applicants, immigrants and most professionals to tell the truth when they fill out government forms. But still there are no such rules for politicians.
Other changes, such as tighter controls on election funding and fixed election dates, would inject additional credibility into a system that has fallen into disrepute.
As difficult as it would be to get politicians to move on those kinds of reforms, the effort would pale in comparison to trying to replace our current electoral system with some kind of proportional representation, which would be more democratic and would encourage more people to vote – most notably those who feel their ballots don’t count for anything.
Proportional representation would change that. So, too, would a lottery system, where the representatives haven’t necessarily sought out power and you might get policies that are more responsive to the people and less distorted by powerful special interests.
That might be so much wishful thinking. We can’t even manage a less drastic shift such as proportional representation, let alone something even more democratic. Current discussions about changing the system don’t extend to the likes of a lottery. Instead, there’s talk of the mixedmember proportional floated to Ontarians in a referendum. To be sure, proportional voting is no panacea. But nor is it the bogeyman opponents make it out to be; the negatives – minority governments, fractured parties and cronyism in list making – just haven’t materialized in the wide range of jurisdictions that use it.
We shouldn’t give up, however, on meaningful reform. After all, wasn’t the whole point of democracy to allow people to lead themselves? Removing ourselves from monarchies and dictatorships – not ancient history in many parts of the world, we should remind ourselves – and taking that power for our-
selves? As citizens, aren’t we each responsible for ensuring democracy flourishes? Instead, we’re letting it slip away, its roots and purpose forgotten. What’s that line about forgetting history ...?
Here we have a classic catch-22 situation: will participation beget better, honest politicians, or will we need to clamp down on politicians’ conduct before Canadians regain faith in the political process?