Rethinking Civic Participation in Democratic Theory and Practice

Beyond Abstract Democracy

Rod Dacombe

• Publisher: Palgrave Macmillan
• Year: 2017
• Print ISBN:
  9781137588241
• eBook ISBN:
  9781137588258
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: European Politics
• Index: Politics & International Relations

This book makes an important contribution to contemporary debates over the place of civic participation in democratic theory and practice. Drawing on a detailed case study of the Blackbird Leys area of Oxford, the book employs a novel empirical approach to ask whether widespread participation in civic life can enhance the prospects for democracy, given the low levels of participation which tend to exist in deprived areas. Throughout, it presents an account of participation rooted in the history and development of the case, in order to avoid the kinds of abstraction which are characteristic of many existing studies in the area. The book will appeal to scholars working on democratic theory in applied settings, and will be of interest to anyone concerned with inequalities in civic participation.

© The Author(s) 2018

Rod DacombeRethinking Civic Participation in Democratic Theory and PracticeThe Theories, Concepts and Practices of Democracyhttps://doi.org/10.1057/978-1-137-58825-8_1

Begin Abstract

1. The Problem with Civic Participation

Rod Dacombe¹

(1)

King’s College London, London, UK

End Abstract

Introduction

This is a book about democracy, and the arguments which go on over its meaning and efficacy. An idea often invoked but little understood, democracy has passed into the everyday vocabulary of modern life, reaching beyond the sphere of formal politics into areas as diverse as education, work and family life.¹ Fundamentally, most discussion of democracy holds it as a ‘good thing’, which is to be pursued with vigour. Democracy is held as an essential element of the good life, of modernity, which developed societies can display as proof of their success, even as justification for war against those who do not share these ideals. And so it seems remarkable that there are those who would argue against its value as an idea, and as a means of organising society, yet an extensive body of literature has developed which raises a number of serious objections to many of the established features of democratic thought. It is the critics of democracy who provide the starting point for this book, and to whom this account of the civic lives of the residents of Blackbird Leys is addressed.

The analysis of democracy provides a perennial occupation for political scientists of all flavours—the questions it raises strike at the very heart of the kind of scholarship preferred by academics and researchers since Harold Lasswell (1958) famously declared that political scholarship involved the study of ‘who gets what, when, how’. And almost as soon as scholars started to develop a coherent programme for the study of democracy, a strong tradition began which took as its starting point the idea that a society organised by democratic means would be ‘chaotic, arbitrary, meaningless and impossible’ (Mackie 2003: 2). The problem with democracy, it is claimed, comes from a number of basic flaws in the democratic process, which tend to fall into two related themes. The first set of problems stem from the claim that democratic decision-making is ineffective and, in the most extreme cases, entirely undesirable due to the inability of democratic systems to provide reasonable and accurate aggregations of the desires of their citizens. The second series of critiques is focused more specifically on participatory and deliberative understandings of democracy, and suggests that both in theory and practice, these do not provide the outcomes their proponents desire.

This kind of analysis often goes on quite unnoticed by the practitioners, activists and citizens who are actively engaged in the democratic processes that are studied. In fact, those actually involved in the business of democracy tend to take a rather different view of its value (Klingemann 1999). And yet the questions that are raised by democracy’s critics are very real and of high practical significance. In the UK, there can be little doubt that democracy is in crisis , with the erosion of interest and confidence in its institutions fast becoming a cause for serious concern. Voter turnout has declined steadily, reaching disastrous levels at the turn of the century, and amongst some of the most deprived social groups the picture is bleaker still. Modern democratic life seems to reflect Carole Pateman’s insight, that ‘the outstanding characteristic of most citizens, more especially those in the lower socio-economic status (SES) groups, is a general lack of interest in politics and political activity’ (Pateman 1970: 3).

It is small wonder, then, that the debates around the proper place of democracy in political thought generate some of the most pressing questions addressed by scholars today. While some of the most interesting insights developed over recent years have come from political scientists whose areas of work might broadly be understood as ‘theoretical’, in this book I will argue that democratic life, and in particular, the place of civic participation ² within contemporary understandings of democracy, also needs exploring through empirical research, and that new methods of inquiry need to be developed to meet the challenges which exist in theoretical accounts. A failure to properly explore the implications of democratic theory in an applied setting leaves the idea of democracy somewhat disconnected from its application by activists and citizens.

Abstractions of the theory of democracy from its practice can be flawed in two areas. First, by focusing arguments and counter-arguments on the claims of other scholars, there is a danger that political scientists end up talking to each other, rather than extending their ideas and influence more broadly in society. Second, by separating the discussion of democratic practice from its original meaning and context, it is possible to miss some of the richest and most thought-provoking elements of civic life. This point is of vital importance. Too often, democratic theorists attempt to isolate democracy from its surroundings. One of the main themes explored in this book is that, in fact, democratic life is deeply embedded in its social context, and the success of democracy is closely tied up with the environment in which it is set. The research underpinning this book aims to remedy both these flaws in the existing work, by extending the debates of political theory into the world of practice, and also by focusing on the unique conditions of civic participation in one neighbourhood, in order to challenge some of the assumptions of the more prominent elements of democratic theory.

Democracy’s Critics

It seems remarkable to the casual observer that anyone would argue against democracy. However, history is littered with those who have spoken out against the introduction, and extension, of many of the democratic ideals readers living in Western liberal democracies will take for granted. In 1820 the Tory MP George Canning, later to become Prime Minister, made a famous speech arguing against the extension of the franchise and the abolition of the Rotten Boroughs, which seems indefensible now but was in its time an expression of the views of many in power. Stability was Canning’s key concern, and he suggested that the ‘[democratic] impulse, once given, may be too impetuous to be controlled; and, intending only to change the guidance of the machine, […] may hurry it […] to irretrievable destruction’ (Therry 1895). This clash between democracy and stability forms a core element of much of the literature against participation.

These concerns have merit, and democracy can be a fragile thing. In 1942 there were only eleven functioning democracies left on the face of the planet. From the late 1930s, the twin forces of fascism and communism combined to strangle the life out of democracy as a legitimate form of social and political organisation, almost eradicating the idea entirely (Keane 2009). As Gerry Mackie (2003) notes, these developments alerted political scientists to the very real dangers presented by unstable democratic systems. Even with the defeat of fascism at the end of the Second World War, the eventual democratisation of Spain and Portugal in the 1970s, and the fall of Communism over a tumultuous three-year period starting at the end of the 1980s, these concerns persist.

The collapse of democracy in the 1930s had been nothing short of spectacular. Until the early part of the twentieth century the democratic state was widely believed to be in a position of strength, with a sustained demand for greater participation in the industrialised West accompanied by a dramatic rate of industrial and social change. Importantly, these developments were largely divorced from violence (at least on the part of the advocates of democracy) and their objective (in many cases seemingly achieved) was a stable, democratic system of government, rather than revolution and social upheaval. The cost, to nations and their citizens, of the fall of democracy in the 1930s will never be truly established, but taken in the context of what came before, the shock to contemporary writers must have been astonishing.

It is no surprise, therefore, that perhaps the most influential democratic theorist of the modern era, Joseph Schumpeter , takes stability as one of the primary concerns addressed in his work. His classic Capitalism, Socialism and Democracy (1942), outlines a theory of democracy that explicitly excludes forms of democratic organisation based on widespread civic participation on the basis that they are both impractical and unstable. For Schumpeter , one of the most serious problems with ‘classical’ theories of democracy³ stems from their reliance on a model of citizen participation which he saw as unrealistic, and unlikely to be implemented in any practical form, due to the tendencies of citizens to remain uninformed and uninterested in political affairs (as Iris Marion Young (2000: 16) memorably suggested, most people ‘would rather watch television, read poetry, or make love’). In reaction to this, Schumpeter is very clear in outlining an alternative understanding of what he describes as the ‘democratic method’. This is the ‘institutional arrangement for arriving at political decisions by making the people itself decide issues through the election of individuals who are to assemble in order to carry out its will’ (Schumpeter 1942: 250). In this case, it is ‘the competitive struggle for the people’s vote’ (p. 269) which defines the democratic process, and the focus of democracy is on the small group of leaders who compete for the votes of the electorate.

Fundamentally, Schumpeter ’s democracy is an elitist model, trading off broad-based participation for stability and simplicity. It is of little importance that ‘the typical citizen drops down to a lower level of mental performance as soon as he enters the political field’ (Schumpeter 1942: 262). Rather, politics should be the occupation of the few, namely, those with the ability to take on the role of elected leaders. This role demands a certain level of skill and commitment but also commands autonomy. Schumpeter invokes Edmund Burke to suggest that, outside of formal elections, the electorate should not involve themselves in the activities of politicians—that they should accept, in his words, the ‘division of labour’ (Schumpeter 1942: 295) between themselves and the political class. If the cacophony of voices that make up the electorate were heard throughout the democratic process, decisions would be made in deference to a fickle and unruly mob.

Schumpeter ’s work was, and is, hugely influential, and elements of his thinking have come to dominate more recent democratic theory. John Dryzek (2000) suggests that thinkers in this tradition favour a form of minimal democracy , where the problems of participation are avoided by focusing primarily on regular elections to hold elected politicians to account, with a market-like process where candidates compete for votes replacing some of the more troublesome elements of democratic life. The basic premise of conceptions of democracy like this is that any attempt to identify a common will, which might be developed through extensive participation in democracy, is, in the words of William Riker, one of the most successful minimal democrats, ‘inconsistent and absurd’ (Riker 1982: 241). The consequent dangers of reaching towards high levels of participation are clear in the literature. Robert Dahl (1956) suggests that high levels of democratic participation amongst lower socio-economic groups are likely to lead to authoritarian (and therefore, anti-democratic) outcomes. Others echo this point, suggesting that totalitarianism of the kind experienced in the period leading to the Second World War is strongly associated with a politically mobilised working class.⁴

Conceptions of democracy like this have deep roots. Plato’s Republic was based on a notion of democratic participation that was emphatically elitist, and somewhat honorific. Participation in the demos was restricted to a small number of ‘great men’, excluding women, children, slaves, the idle rich and those who did not own sufficient property.⁵ The ruling class was instead to be composed of those who had demonstrated their worthiness on the field of battle, or through years of dedicated study. In this way, political responsibility was bestowed on those who were best suited to this kind of work, celebrating their achievements and rewarding their ability. The restrictions on participation here underline Plato’s belief that widespread popular participation in democracy would be disastrous, scorning the idea as a ‘theatrocracy’, which provides ‘the starting point of everyone’s conviction that he was an authority on everything’ (Plato 2005: 1389). This reliance on the wisdom of the few is echoed throughout the most celebrated writing on democracy. James Madison (2000), in the Federalist Papers, thought that the will of the people ‘pronounced by the representatives of the people, will be more consonant to the public good than if pronounced by the people themselves’. Where Madison noted the ability of elected representatives to clearly articulate the views of the public in the absence of direct partici...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Frontmatter
• 1. The Problem with Civic Participation
• 2. Participation and Democracy in Theory and Practice
• 3. Participation, Democracy and Neighbourhood Poverty
• 4. Participation in Real-World Settings
• 5. Democratic Participation in Blackbird Leys
• 6. Community Structure, Participation and Social Organisation
• 7. Participation and Social Isolation
• 8. Responding to Democracy’s Critics
• Backmatter