Buy my e-book A Conspiracy of Wizards
On This Week With Christiane Amanpour today (http://abcnews.go.com/ThisWeek/week-transcript-madeleine-albright-sen-lindsey-graham-sen/story?id=12143913&page=4), at the end of the program Christiana reported on a British Member of Parliament who was removed from office by court order because he (or his campaign staff) had lied about his opponent during the campaign, the first time an election has been nullified in the UK in 99 years (see also: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/mps-expenses/8131286/It-is-right-to-protect-democracy-from-Phil-Woolass-lies.html).
The law under which Phil Woolas had been removed from office after winning the election (by a mere 103 votes) was the Representation of the People Act, under which Woolas’ opponent sued. The argument in Great Britain, naturally enough, is between the importance of avoiding any chilling of political free speech (and transfer of power from the people to the courts), versus the importance of creating and maintaining a reliable, productive, informative debate between candidates competing for elected office. It is not a trivial debate, and it should not be decided with a knee-jerk commitment to any a priori assumption. Both sides represent legitimate and significant values to be considered.
One of the simultaneous strengths and weaknesses of the American legal and political system is the quasi-sacred status accorded to our foundational document, the United States Constitution. It is a strength because it creates a bulwark in defense of rule of law, making any capricious acts of power outside the bounds of our legal structure just that much more difficult to realize. It is a weakness because it binds us to a very insightful but inevitably imprecise, imperfect, and increasingly archaic 223 year old legal document. While there are legal means for amending it, the reality is that it is exceedingly difficult to amend, and that the heightened quasi-sacred status of the Bill of Rights renders those ten amendments completely untouchable as a practical reality.
Most Americans would argue, instantly and passionately, that that is unequivocally a very good thing. While there are very good and persuasive arguments to support that conclusion, it is undeniably also affected by lifetimes of nationalistic indoctrination, starting practically in infancy, with the public school diet of the Pledge of Allegiance, military and patriot ballads, and American History still generally taught with all of the stirring patriotic mythology and imagery ladled thickly throughout. How many Americans, for instance, know that the Boston Tea Party was a response to a lowering of taxes on British tea, offending only the tea smugglers’ interests? How many know that among the grievances that the colonists cited against the British was the British commitment to protecting the civil rights of the Indians living in the newly conquered Ohio Valley, and of the French colonists in newly conquered Canada? Reality is more nuanced than the mythologies with which we displace it.
So let’s bracket off our patriotic certainties, and instead examine the topic with dispassionate reason. Is the long-term public interest better served by defending an absolute hands-off policy regarding political campaign messaging, leaving it up to voters to punish discovered dishonesty as they see fit, or is it better served by prohibiting outright deception, enforced with penalties serious enough to give the prohibition teeth? If the latter, should such prohibitions include overturning the choice of the electorate? Should the electorate be included in such a decision?
First of all, we should recognize that limits on free speech already exist. In any context other than a political campaign, a person whose reputation is publicly impugned by an intentional falsehood can sue under libel and slander laws. The question isn’t whether extending that legal protection into the political sphere violates an inviolable absolute right to free speech, but rather whether it violates some core principle of that right that does not exist outside of the political sphere. It is certainly true that in Free Speech jurisprudence, political speech is recognized as being the most protected kind of speech, since the first amendment was particularly intended to protect political speech.
Second of all, we need to examine honestly the assumption that voters are capable of punishing lies at the polls. We all know that American political campaigns have devolved into largely negative campaigns which stretch the truth as much as they can get away with to paint the opponent in the worst possible light. The voters can only punish this behavior by voting for no one, which undermines rather than preserves the health of the democratic system.
Furthermore, the assumption that the electorate will reward and punish candidates for good and bad behavior defies both overwhelming empirical evidence and economic theory, since rewarding and punishing such behaviors depends on being fully informed, which is rarely if ever the case. To take a market example of the dilemma, few people are such “free market” purists that they argue in favor of rescinding health and safety laws protecting consumers from toxic and dangerous ingredients in goods offered for purchase. Few say, “after a few thousand kids die from dangerous parts in toys, people will stop buying them.” In fact, such an approach ensures that small, quick-hit start-ups will in never-ending succession sell dangerous or unhealthy items that yield higher profits than attention to health and safety would, and simply switch to a new one once the consumer learning curve catches up.
Similarly, not all, or even most, of the electorate ends up informed prior to the election of deceptions incorporated into political campaign ads, becoming informed requiring both that the deception is discovered and reported upon by the press, and that the electorate affirmatively seeks information about candidates beyond the information that is targeted at them in the course of their daily lives. Also, and more problematically, even informed voters are susceptible to sophisticated psychological manipulation, meaning that well-designed deceptions can affect elections even if everyone is informed of the deception, leaving inchoate impressions that affect voting behavior independently of the quality of information.
The latter question bleeds into the very sensitive question of “how much democracy is too much democracy?” Do we want a pure democracy, in which the entire polity votes on every single public policy decision; or some kind of a representative democracy, in which we select people to govern presumably with some degree of professional expertise and information-intensive analysis? If the latter (which is what we have), do we want to preserve some kind of unfettered free-for-all process of selecting those representatives, in which any exploitation of the psychological manipulability of the electorate is fair game, or do we want to refine the process to be one in which popular decisions are made on the basis of reliable information?
While I respect the sophistication of our existing social institutions, and believe that preserving the core of our system is certainly a good idea, I am of the opinion that there is almost always room for improvement on the margins. I have always said that there are two demands that must be met in any representative system of government: 1) That the agents (our representatives) be held accountable for acting in the interests of the principal (the people), and 2) that they be enabled to do so effectively. This principle can be extended somewhat to two broader requirements of our political system: 1) That the electorate be allowed to choose its representatives according to their perceived interests, and 2) that they be enabled to do so effectively.
Whether the British law is preferable to our anything-goes system, and whether a (another?) marginal shift in power from the electorate to the courts would (continue to?) tilt the scales in an unhealthy way, is something about which I am not going to state any conclusions. But I do advocate that we engage in the debate, in the ongoing consideration of how to refine our system, and in the cautious effort to do so. Despite our patriotic mythology, there is always room for improvement. There was in 1776. There was in 1787. There was in the 1860s and 1960s. And there is today. Let’s not let national pride blind us to the need to progress. Let’s not cite those who were most famous for arguing on behalf of the need to refine social institutions as authorities whose refinements prohibit us from every refining them again.
Now that the election is over, I can speak more candidly about my own candidacy, and how the amateur punditry of the blogosphere consistently fails to distinguish the substance from the ritual of politics. It is, in fact, a classic error, involving the distinction between substantive and functional rationality, between pursuing a rational goal and pursuing a goal rationally. Though some may misinterpret this post as an “apology” for a “failed” candidacy, its real purpose is to point the way toward a political discourse that looks beyond the horse race and remains cognizant of the ultimate purpose of politics: Not to run a race better than others, but to stop running in circles altogether, and actually move toward a destination, whether quickly or slowly.
Substantive rationality must always take priority over functional rationality: We must always first ensure that the goals we are pursuing are the most rational goals possible, before ensuring that we are pursuing them in the most rational ways possible. Sometimes the answer is obvious, such as in how best to use my candidacy (explained below). Sometimes it’s more complex, and involves more weighing out of costs and benefits, with less certain results.
For instance, would it have been more rational for the Obama administration and Congressional Democrats during the past two years to pass as much progressive legislation as they could while they had the chance, or more rational to try to move forward in a way which might be more sustainable? How much political capital should be invested in trying to make marginal deep structural improvements, and how much in trying to make immediate legislative improvements?
Regardless of whether a simple or a complex calculation, we must always examine both our goals, and our means of pursuing them. And we must consider both long-term and short-term goals, and how the balance struck between them affects the means by which we pursue them.
My candidacy for the Colorado House of Representatives this year provides a good example of what I’m talking about, and of the institutionalized pressures to focus on functional rationality at the expense of substantive rationality, to perform the rituals of electoral politics faithfully even if it is not the most useful thing to do.
When I agreed to run, I knew that I was running in a district that no Democrat had won in almost half a century (and even then, before redistricting made it even harder), and whose numbers of registered Democrats, Republicans, and Independents were far worse than any of the seats formerly considered “safe Republican seats” that Democrats managed to orchestrate surprise victories in (generally with the help of funding from a well-organized netrork of 527’s targeting the most winnable races). I also soon realized that even the core Democrats in my district, for the most part, were resigned to losing, and were strongly disinclined to invest any significant amount of time or money in what they perceived to be an impossible task. Finally, it became increasingly clear that 2010 wasn’t going to be a year in which a Democrat could buck those odds and overcome those obstacles.
The Jefferson County political blog Jeffco Pols (off-shoot of Colorado Pols), wrote of my candidacy that “few candidates have done less.” I responded with the following:
Respectfully, I’m going to add my completion of your statement, without which it is not quite correct: “Few candidates have done less fundraising….” In a context broader than the one to which you limit yourself, (yours) is a dramatically inaccurate statement.What I’ve done a lot of is communicating with constituents, discussing public policy issues, learning about and analyzing public policy issues, and actually working on public policy issues (currently on braiding and blending funding streams for children and families in need, as well as lobbying Jeffco Schools to implement a robust school-community partnership). I manned booths the entire weekends at Jeffco Rodeo and Fair, and Summerset, with a political toss game and “good citizens maze” that I created for kids, talking with constituents, and have walked my district as much as I have been able to. I also founded and preside over a local community organization.Prior to and during all of that, I’ve spent my life studying social institutional dynamics and public policy issues, with the ultimate end of affecting them for the better….
I used my candidacy in what I considered the best way it could be used to advance the progressive agenda. That’s what I intended to do, and that’s what I did, with a great investment of time and effort. I did not run to engage in a ritual devoid of a realistic calculation of what I could accomplish and how best to accomplish it; I ran to have what effect I could have. And my choices were based on that calculation.
I’ve attended numerous events in which I can talk with constituents, interest groups, and those who are involved in public policy formation, was on Mike Zinna’s television and radio political talk shows (exposure that few if any first time, long-shot state house candidates manage to get), on a Spanish language radio political talk show, had three feature spreads in The Columbine Courier, and a few op-eds in the Denver Post….
Voters should vote for whom they consider most qualified to legislate, not whom they consider to have done the best job marketing himself, or who they think (between two candidates in the general election) has the best chance of winning. I encourage the voters in my district to make their own decision based on an assessment of the relative talents and qualities of the candidates, and not have it made for them by the self-annointed gate-keepers of democracy.
Following Jeffco Pols repetition of their insistence that none of that is relevant, I continued:
What I did was to state clearly what I have done a lot of, for what purpose, a purpose directly related to running for office, though not limited to winning an election….
You say “few candidates have done less,” and I say, “well, it depends on what kind of ‘doing’ you want to emphasize….” You want to emphasize what wins elections, and I want to emphasize what serves the public interest….
To you, politics is the competition to win elections. To me, politics is the effort to have a positive influence on the world….
You equate working on developing a robust community-school partnership in Jefferson County, and working to create more effective delivery of services to children and families, and working to create a better understanding of some of the social and economic challenges that face us, (with) “driving up and down I-25,” because, to you, if I prioritize serving the public interest, using my candidacy as a platform from which to do so, rather than marginally decreasing the overwhelming odds against me in an election I had almost no chance of winning…, that is tantamount to “doing nothing.” To me, it is the most rational strategy to make some marginal improvement in the quality of our shared existence. And that, not the ritual of electoral politics, is the real goal.
There are activities a candidate can engage in that only have value, vis-a-vis the ultimate goal of improving the human condition, if the candidate wins, and other activities that have some value vis-a-vis that goal win or lose. The more improbable an electoral victory is in the candidate’s particular jurisdiction at that particular time, the more rational it is to shift the balance of investment of time and energy toward those activities that have value win or lose, such as persuasive substantive communication, community organizing, and actual policy work. Those are the activities I have emphasized, and have done so with energy and commitment. Mathematically, it looks like this:
Let’s say the goal is to produce as many units of X (public welfare) as possible. And let’s say there are various means of contributing to it: W (winning an election); O (community organizing); R (public policy research); and P (effective persuasive communication).
Let’s say that there are 10 units of time to spend on all of these means (since time is finite, this just means dividing however much can be spent on political activities by 10). Let’s say that W produces 100 units of X if successfully completed, and zero if not. Let’s say that there are four ways to contribute to the success of W: M (raising money), C (canvassing), and E (attending events). Let’s say for every unit of time spent doing M, the odds of success in W go up 4%; for every unit of time spent doing C, the odds go up 2%; and for every unit of E, the odds go up 1%.
Let’s say that each unit of time spent doing O produces 3 units of X, each unit of time spent doing R produces 5 units of X, and each unit of time spent doing P produces 4 units of X. But let’s say that when a candidate spends a unit of time doing O, it also counts as a unit doing C; and when he spends a unit of time doing P, it also counts as a unit doing E. And let’s say that no more than 4 units of time can usefully be spent on any one of O, R, or P.
Under these circumstances (which roughly reflect reality), the most rational way to maximize production of X is to run for office, and distribute your activities among C (O), E (P), and R, completely ignoring M. In other words, to do exactly what I’m doing. (The expected value of each time unit of M is 4 units of X; of O, P, and R as a non-candidate 3, 4, and 5 units of X, respectively; while the value of each time unit of O, P, and R as a candidate is 5 units of X). The issue becomes a little more complicated if by running you are displacing someone else who might have run instead, who wouldn’t have been able or willing to do O, R, or P in lieu of running for office. But that’s not the case in HD28 (no one else wanted to run, and I have always offered to step aside for anyone who did).
The value in this model that is probably least realistic is the 4% rise in probability of X per unit of M, suggesting that full time fund raising would have given me a 40% chance of winning the election. In reality, nothing would have given me a 40% chance of winning. I inflated the chances of winning in order to make it a closer calculation; in reality, it wasn’t a close call at all. The best way for me to contribute to the public interest was to be a candidate who spent my time doing things other than those that would have maximized my (inevitably slim) chances of winning.
Recognizing this allowed me not to sacrifice the real objective to the “goal displacement” of over-emphasis on trying to accomplish an intermediate goal.
(I want to emphasize, though, that many circumstances have already changed, and will continue to change, the odds of my winning in 2012, if I decide to run again. I will start out with more name recognition, with a bit of a foundation to work with, competing for an open seat, in a different political climate. If, with the assistance of others, I determine that my district’s seat in the Colorado House of Representatives is winnable in 2012, I will do everything in my power to win it).
As we all work together, here in South Jeffco and the Denver metropolitan area, throughout Colorado, in the United States, and around the world, to improve the quality of life for all people, now and in the future, we will have to balance many considerations: What should be the distribution across the spectrum of the most local to the most global of our concerns and our efforts? What should be the distribution across the spectrum of the most short-term to the most long-term goals? What should be the distribution across the spectrum of the most superficial (and therefore, generally, most tractable) challenges to the most deeply structural (and therefore, generally, most intractable)?
These issues of balancing the focus of efforts across levels and across time, combined with the necessity of negotiating conflicting interests and ideologies, and the complexity of the natural, technological, and social institutional systems we are working with, together define the dimensions of our on-going political challenge. Understanding this, and understanding it with ever increasing clarity and precision, is part of what it takes to meet that challenge most effectively.
