R: Democracy Degrades the Soul

For a number of decades, democracy has been the primary form of government among the nations of the world, and justifiably so. On paper, democratic governments tend to be more prosperous, more peaceable, and offer higher levels of personal freedom than non-democratic governments. Democracy is fair. It’s efficient (sometimes). It’s reasonable. But the forms by which we are governed should never be judged in merely quantitative terms, and as a good conservative may be quick to point out, pure reason has never achieved anything illustrious. Perhaps concerned by its roots in Enlightenment thinking, many in this Party have grown discontented with democracy in recent years. A few semesters ago, we decided not to promote democracy abroad. In 2019, we debated “R: Hold Elections.” The resolution failed. This week, we must decide: does the world’s predominant form of government contribute to human flourishing? Or does democracy degrade the soul?

In making every citizen equal in political power to every other, democracy dilutes the individual will rather than ennobling it. When everyone is a king, no one is. Are not the whims of the collective as fickle as those of any aristocrat? Is “majority rule” a nobler maxim than “what pleases the prince has the force of law?” In extending the scepter to every citizen equally, democracy only ensures that we are governed by a nation of tyrants instead of a single one, giving us all the vices of despotism with none of the romance of aristocracy. The age of chivalry is gone, and democracy has killed it.

And yet, there is something romantic about democracy. The awful responsibility of governing a nation is much too important to be left to the “experts” —that is, the princes or the politicians. There are a few tasks in life which must be left to the individual, and political responsibility is among them. Democracy engages the common man and woman, inviting them to take moral responsibility for the laws that bind them and their neighbors. Furthermore, the complaints levied against liberal democracy—that it drowns the soul of the individual in a sea of “collective will,” and that the tyranny of the majority is no better than despotism—are tempered by forms of government like our own constitutional republic. Maybe democracy, like a fine wine, is salutary in moderation and dangerous only in excess.

Looking past mere quantitative markers such as cost of living, GDP, and the human development index, what does democracy do for the individual, his dignity, and his soul? Consider that there may not be a one-size-fits-all answer to this question. Perhaps some nations are particularly suited to flourish under democracy, and some are not. Where might this distinction lie?