Some Loose Thoughts on “Democracy”

This piece is something I wrote out of a sudden feeling, but it was written in fragments over several days when my thoughts were not flowing smoothly, so the structure is a mess; the basic ideas, however, do not go much beyond a high-school level. I am just writing casually.

Since entering university, I have very rarely discussed politics, and yet this was precisely the subject of the most heated arguments during class breaks in high school.

For the past few years I have kept saying: “Political philosophy is deep water…” What I mean is that my energy is limited, and I am neither able nor daring enough to wade into it.

Recently, however, I have gradually felt that: yes, the water is indeed deep, but in the end it cannot be avoided. Since I want to advocate some kind of “pluralism,” how could I possibly evade political questions? For someone like Popper, Polanyi, Feyerabend, and the others—who were philosophers of science and at the same time liberals, anarchists, and so on—one cannot separate one’s view of science from one’s view of politics. In addition, the relationship between knowledge and power is also a major issue that cannot be avoided. Since I want to oppose “knowledge is power,” how could I avoid the question of what power actually is?

A detail from last week’s discussion in the globalization class further reminded me of the importance of clarifying my view of democracy. After hearing my much-vaunted pluralist view of dialogue, Lao Yang said something like: what you’re talking about is absolute (direct?) democracy; indirect democracy can also slide into despotism.

What kind of democrat am I, exactly? In fact, I do not particularly want to be a democrat; indeed, my sympathy for totalitarianism may not necessarily be less than my sympathy for democracy.

First, it is necessary to distinguish some related concepts. For example, “equality” and “freedom”: I do not think “democracy” is equivalent to “equality” or “freedom”; under certain real-world conditions, they may even conflict with one another.

For me, “freedom” is unquestionably a good word, although its meaning is the hardest to pin down. But I am not a liberal either, just as I love science yet oppose “scientism.”

As for “equality” and “democracy,” not only are their meanings vague and uncertain, even whether they are good words or bad words has become a question.

Hayek once said something rather well: “In this world there is always a difference between treating people equally and trying to make them equal. The former is a precondition of a free society, while the latter, as Tocqueville described, means ‘a new kind of servitude.’” Of course I support “treating people equally,” but if “equality” is taken as an “objective,” that is, if one wants to artificially force others to become equal, then a problem arises. The “equality” I support is an ideal, or an attitude, but it cannot be a political system. “Equalization” as a coercive measure is a form of brute force (though brute force is not necessarily a bad thing), and it stands in opposition to “freedom.”

A side note: many people equate “democracy” with “freedom of speech,” which is a bit baffling, just like equating science with efficiency; there is simply no logic to it. Of course, this connection is not without reason: modern people increasingly link “speech” with “power,” and this is something I often mention—namely, that in modern society, those who truly hold power are the “media.” So-called “public opinion” can not only influence politics, but in turn also influence the masses, just as money in turn enslaves human beings.

As for “democracy” as a “way of life,” that is something I long for—I am thinking of the kind of “democracy” found in the city-states of ancient Greece. But when placed in the reality of our time, I oppose the various democratic claims I have heard presented as political systems, especially those enthusiastic opinions in China that vigorously push for “democracy.”

In my view, “democracy” may indeed be a political system, but it is also a way of life, and even more, a culture or even a religion. Whether a country can implement a democratic system, and what form of democracy is more suitable—this is by no means merely a technical question. Democracy does not come simply from building up a corresponding set of social institutions; without a matching cultural identity and value system, as well as matching technical conditions (especially communication media), democracy remains a fantasy.

An ideal society does not have to wait until everyone’s morality has reached an ideal state before it becomes possible. Kant pointed out that a perfect rule of law does not require a kingdom of angels; it can be realized even in a kingdom composed of “a set of devils.” This is quite good. If they were really a bunch of angels, then law and restraint would not be necessary after all; law exists precisely because of evil and self-interest. However, both a society made up of “a group of angels” and one made up of “a group of devils” are idealizations. Even the selfish “devils” are assumed to be fully rational—that is, the assumption of the “rational person” often used in modern economics, which assumes that each person can rationally weigh the pros and cons of the consequences of their actions. Legislation is possible among devils, but if one encounters a group of madmen, that is another matter entirely. The problem is that real people are not only always somewhere between angels and devils, but also always somewhere between rationality and madness. Moreover, human beings can never rid themselves of irrationality. Therefore, even if a perfect rule of law is possible in a kingdom of angels and devils, it is still difficult to realize in the human world. Any real system is imperfect, and furthermore, people’s support for and promotion of a certain system are shaped not only by rational considerations, but also by habits, feelings, beliefs, and many other complex factors.

If one looks at “democracy” merely as a system, then in the eyes of many people, “universal suffrage” has almost become synonymous with “democracy.” Compared with concepts like democracy and freedom, the meaning of “universal suffrage” is obviously much clearer, so clear that I can very confidently take the opposing position

The advantages of universal suffrage seem to be many. First, it (at least in name) grants every citizen “political power” (or political rights—the difference is more or less negligible here). In other words, if “democracy” is reasonably interpreted as “everyone participates in politics,” then universal suffrage is the most convenient (the laziest) means of realizing democracy.

But is our ultimate pursuit to make sure that everyone possesses a little bit of power? Is “universal suffrage” an absolute requirement or an ultimate ideal, or is it merely a tool or means for approaching the ideal? If one regards it as a principle that must be realized unconditionally, then there is naturally nothing more to say. But if “universal suffrage,” as a system, exists merely so that society can develop better as a technology, then what I want to say is: this technology is probably a poor one.

The greatest advantage of universal suffrage that is so often praised is that it “prevents totalitarianism.” Many opponents of universal suffrage also believe that: universal suffrage may avoid the worst state, but it can never reach the best state; whereas despotism may lead to the worst situation (tyranny), but it may also support the best situation, possibly achieve the optimal concentration of resources and power, possibly formulate long-term plans and ensure that good policies are carried through to the end. Yet because the term of office under universal suffrage is very limited, it is difficult on the one hand to ensure continuity of policy, and on the other hand it creates obstacles for longer-term planning—especially for those undertakings that will not yield any return in the short term.

But even with respect to “preventing totalitarianism,” universal suffrage is hard pressed to guarantee it. One must remember those few most famous fascists of the twentieth century—Hitler came to power through election, and was elected in a completely standard Western-style election, 100 percent in accordance with the rules; Hitler, like any elected leader, was chosen as chancellor by winning majority support from the public through his speeches, debates, and propaganda machine; Mussolini was also elected; public support for Japan’s war of aggression against China certainly exceeded 99%…

This is no accident. In fact, when decision-making power is distributed to the entire group, it does not lead to a more rational choice. On the contrary, as a whole, a “group” will either manifest apathy or manifest madness. Gustave Le Bon, in The Crowd, offered a uniquely insightful analysis of crowd psychology. Le Bon pointed out that once an individual enters a group, his personality is submerged, and the behavior of the group always appears emotional, irrational, and low-IQ! This is not an attempt to look down on “the masses.” In fact, what Le Bon points out is that the “intelligence” of a group has little to do with the rationality of the “masses” who compose it: “On general questions, the vote of forty academicians will not be any more enlightened than that of forty water sellers.” On this point, you may refer to the reading notes I wrote very early on for The Crowd (this book seems to have just been reprinted recently; I saw stacks of it in the bookstore). In short, the saying that “three cobblers, with their wits combined, match Zhuge Liang” applies at most to situations where three people are united in facing the same problem and have the chance to engage in full discussion; in many real situations it is more like “three monks have no water to drink,” or else “three Zhuge Liangs are not as good as cobblers.”

By comparison, China’s so-called “democratic centralism” may perhaps have more promise than the Western system of universal suffrage. It can let everyone taste the so-called “political rights,” turning elections into a form of mass entertainment, without being as extravagant as in the United States. And the “People’s Congress deputies” selected layer by layer would be a tiny minority; only such a small group might, like the city-states of ancient Greece, engage in meaningful discussion. But Chinese-style democracy and American-style democracy share the same problems; only China’s current problems are more prominent.

The biggest problem is that elections become a mere formality. A few days ago, an election for deputies to the Haidian District People’s Congress was just held here. It was bustling and lively, with everything done properly from nomination to the two rounds of voting, but the crux of the matter is that we did not know a single one of the final candidates. In the end, we just picked whoever’s name looked “pleasing to the eye” and cast a random vote. Still, I actually think such an election is somewhat better than the American-style universal suffrage. The worst thing about American-style universal suffrage is that by turning elections into a magnificent spectacle, it leaves the public contented, proud, and excited at having democracy, to the point that the self-satisfied American public is rarely likely to reflect on the nature of this empty entertainment activity. China’s current situation, by contrast, always seems to make people naturally think that “China is still not democratic enough,” and so when I say China’s system is “more promising,” I mean that it may bypass the American-style democracy that has already run into a dead end and explore a new path.

I still cannot give a method that is better than the existing system. That is not work for someone like me, this “dreamer,” to do. But in order to show that my “dreaming” is at least also “idealistic” and not merely “fantastical,” I will put forward another wildly imaginative improvement: turn voting into drawing lots.

Some time ago, when Wu Lao talked about the polis system of ancient Greece, he made a startling remark, saying that the “democracy” in the minds of the Greeks was not voting; real democracy was “drawing lots.” This sounds surprising, but on reflection it does seem to make sense: in a country larger than a polis, in a community where people cannot all know one another, direct democracy obviously cannot be done; it is impossible to have everyone participate in every decision of the state (modern people’s political enthusiasm is far weaker, and the affairs modern states need to handle are far more complicated than those a Greek polis might face.). In that case, democracy must inevitably be realized through some form of “delegation” or “representation.” Elections are a way of using “popularity” to decide who becomes the people’s “representatives.” But in any case, elections can never avoid many difficulties, such as factionalism, canvassing for votes, bribery, incitement, deception, and pandering, and so on. If one were simply to abolish elections altogether, many problems could indeed be solved once and for all. But how, by some means other than elections, can the public also participate in politics and prevent the excessive concentration of power? Why not use drawing lots? Since even when the scope of an electoral district is limited to only a few humanities and social-science departments at Peking University, we still have no real knowledge of the professors we elect and can only vote at random, then why not simply “be random” all the way? Why not directly draw lots among those people who are enthusiastic and willing to take part in politics, and let whoever is drawn be elected?

If the point of elections is to prevent totalitarianism, drawing lots can achieve the same effect as well (because a lottery system makes incitement and demagoguery meaningless, and it seems to perform even better); if the point of elections is to reflect the real “will of the people,” then from a statistical point of view, representatives chosen by lot are clearly more representative of “popular will” than those chosen by election (and in a universal suffrage system, public opinion is in fact easily influenced by “advertising,” so what is finally reflected is already a “public opinion” pulled along by the media); if the point of elections is to give everyone a chance to participate in politics, then drawing lots is clearly fairer (those introverted, reclusive people who are not eloquent or do not like to show off can also have the same opportunity to participate in politics as those who love the limelight and are good at empty talk); if the point of elections is to help produce wiser policies?

First, I need to introduce pluralism—under any given situation, it is impossible to find a single best policy, and even if there were such a best policy, people could not use logic to discover and prove it. Therefore, at any time there may be many mutually incompatible yet reasonable choices, and however much theoretical debate is carried out, it cannot ensure that everyone will reach a consensus. In other words, even if every person in a group makes a very rational thought process and a cautious decision, once reflected in the group as a whole, one cannot expect everyone to be in step. “People’s representatives,” whether composed of “elites” or selected at random, cannot make that group substantially wiser. Clearly, simply relying on elections or drawing lots is not enough to produce wise policies.

The President of the United States is elected by universal suffrage, but the “brain trust” behind the president is not produced by election. A “People’s Congress deputy” produced by drawing lots is of course a “rabble,” but that does not matter, because we do not expect wise policies to be produced by this group. The main function of this group is to form checks and balances and prevent tyranny. For difficult and profound domestic and foreign affairs, there should naturally be experts to handle them; and for the concrete implementation of various policies, professional “civil servants” are of course needed to carry them out. The function of the “People’s Congress deputies” is merely to play a key balancing role in major decision-making questions, while in the design stage and the implementation stage of decision-making, other institutions are needed—so how should those institutions then be regulated? At this point, my dream runs out. In any case, those who should be selected are selected, and where elections are needed, replace them with drawing lots; that is probably closer to “democracy.”

2006-11-15

The person sitting next to me, who amazingly can get wireless internet access, is talking about Chinese democracy, Ah-zhu dan

Latest comments

• Gu

  2006-11-17 23:35:09

  This article obviously only got written halfway through; in the penultimate section it only gets as far as “First, …” The key point is that I simply don’t have the mind to keep writing for now. Let’s at least wait until next year to discuss political questions.

• unic

  2006-11-18 17:26:21

  If lots are to be drawn, then the candidates of all parties must definitely have an equal chance of winning.

• Gu

  2006-11-18 23:31:38 

  Since I said replacing elections with drawing lots, where do you get “candidates” from? Anyone who registers has the same odds of winning; it’s that simple. Anyone willing to serve as a People’s Congress deputy draws one ticket, and what does that have to do with parties? My “lottery system” is a modification based on China’s democratic centralism, not on the American universal suffrage system.
  Factionalism inevitably leads to private gain; in an ideal, free society, parties are meaningless. But apart from one side of private gain, the other side of “parties” is actually more meaningful, as religious groups.

• unic

  2006-11-19 12:20:38 

  No parties at all…
  Indeed, a rabble.
  Then are there different levels of leadership?
  Is there a highest leader?
  Would that also be drawn by lot?
  If it’s a swindler~ wouldn’t that be disastrous? There would be riots~

• Gu

  2006-11-19 15:36:48 

  First, you know what our current system of the People’s Congress is like, right? Drawing lots is only the method for selecting People’s Congress deputies; as for how the highest leader is chosen, that is another matter. If I were to say that all positions are produced by drawing lots, then I’d definitely be having a brain spasm. One method is to let the thousand-odd People’s Congress deputies produced by drawing lots deliberate and vote to elect; another is to produce them from parties or through other channels, whether by election in layers or by seniority-based promotion—it doesn’t matter—or even to set up a “throne” based on heredity, which would also be fine. Power-balancing institutions such as separation of powers can of course ensure that even if the highest leader or the top public figure is a swindler, there will still be ways to keep the situation under control.

Translated from the Chinese original with AI assistance. The original text is authoritative.