The democratic intellect

I hesitate to write this because it seems obvious, but events suggest the point still needs to be made. Perhaps it is one of those points that always needs to be made, no matter how obvious.

When we talk about democracy, we don't always mean the same thing. In particular, there are two things that the word "democracy" is commonly used to describe that are quite distinct, and the distinction between them should be understood by anyone who claims to be a democrat.

We can talk about democracy as a way of making sure the largest number of people get what they want. We ask everyone to express a preference and go with the most popular. We can call this the "will of the people."

Alternatively, we can talk about democracy as a process that engages people in discussion. We ask them to consider evidence, listen to others, and make a decision based, not just on how they each benefit individually, but how we all benefit collectively as a consequence of the outcome. We can call this the "democractic intellect".

The thing is, the "will of the people" and the "democratic intellect" are rarely in agreement, even though we call them both "democracy." So we have to make a choice about how we make our choices.

The "will of the people" can be influenced by anything, not just logic and reason, but fear and prejudice too. It can be manipulated. A given democratic expression of "the will of the people" can be declared final by leaders seeking to promote whatever agenda it legitimises on a given occasion indefinitely and without further scrutiny. Every dictator in history has come to power defending the "will of the people."

The "democratic intellect" presumes people are open to persuasion, and for this reason, a decision based on this process is likely, but not certain, to be the right thing to do. It is a process for trying to make that likelihood as high as possible, just as the "will of the people" makes the number of people whose preference is reflected in the outcome as high as possible. Do we give people what they want right now, or give people a chance to decide what is right for the time being? They are not the same thing.

The "democratic intellect" recognises that all democratic decisions are provisional and reversible: that information is incomplete, priorities change, and people are fallible. No-one has all the pieces of the puzzle. Anyone can get things wrong.

That's the price we pay for the possibility of getting things right. The "will of the people" is an abdication of reason, an act of intellectual cowardice, a retreat from the challenge only the "democratic intellect" can meet. The "democratic intellect" expects more of us than its alternative, but its rewards are commensurate. It requires compassion and humility. We listen to learn rather than to reply. It is only by running the risk of being wrong that we stand a chance of being right.  

So it is important to cultivate the art of disagreement. History is kinder to those who explored the different ways they could be wrong than it is to those we were certain they were right. The societies that survive are those that learn to live with a multitude of voices interacting in democratic polyphony. The societies that perish are those that attempt to impose on those voices a spurious unison. Where the "will of the people" finds contradiction and obstacles, the "democratic intellect" finds collaboration and a journey.

There are those who say that one person's wrong is another's right, we are all shackled to appetites we can neither understand nor control, and that there is no universal set of criteria on which we can base a collective decision of the "democratic intellect," therefore the most that can be achieved by democracy is a matter of preference rather than opinion. But their position does not survive the application of their own argument to itself, to which the 20th century gives costly testimony.

If this is obvious, why do I bring it up? Because once again we see the "democratic intellect" struggling to make itself heard over the "voice of the people."

The aims of the Scottish Independence movement are widely misconstrued by its opponents, but there are grounds for common cause with many, if it is not too late. For the Yes Movement has been an articulation, not of the "will of the people," in the way we have seen it hijacked and commandeered by opportunistic charlatans in the name of Brexit, but of the "democratic intellect," and to this extent it has a global and urgent significance, as we face once again the reduction of democracy to a travesty in the name of the "will of the people" by those who have barely reflected on the diverse meanings of the word.

This is why the Yes Movement must not allow disagreement turn into discord. It must celebrate its many voices. It is not a political party. It must see itself as the context in which many parties can contest elections. It must see itself as a celebration of the democratic intellect. And it must become a beacon to those who would see their democracies imbued with a vibrancy that elevates everyone who participates in them, not because of their opinions, but because of how they are argued.