Democracy Rising is a series of blog posts on deliberative democracy: what it is, why it’s powerful, why the time is right for it, how it works, and how to get it going in your community. The series originates in the United States but will discuss principles and draw upon examples from around the world. Views and opinions expressed in each post are those of the individual contributor(s) only.
This post, the second of three, is adapted from Martín Carcasson, “Imagining the Robust Deliberative City: Elevating the Conversations We Need to Support Democracy,” first published by Public Agenda in October 2019.
The Bad News
In Part 1 of this sub-series I laid out the ideal form we need our political conversations to take. Here I want to examine the sober reality of our actual political conversations. My overall argument is that our current political system motivates very poor conversations, basically by rewarding bad arguments and manipulative tactics, and often by punishing good arguments. As a result, our conversations are not focused on addressing shared problems together, but rather on some alternative goal, such as winning elections, defending our identities and our teams, mobilizing likeminded choirs, gaining or protecting power, or appeasing donors. At times, addressing problems happens to line up with these goals, but not nearly often enough. We are thus led into a negative cycle of dysfunction, polarization, and hyperpartisanship.
To set the stage, let’s look at some insights from brain science and social psychology.[1] This research highlights how human nature has both positive and negative aspects that public processes can spark and tap into, with, unfortunately, the negative aspects being much more basic and easier to trigger. Bad public processes tend to bring out five key negative quirks of human nature:
- We crave certainty and consistency.
- We are suckers for the good-versus-evil narrative.
- We strongly prefer to gather with the likeminded.
- We filter and cherry pick evidence to support our views.
- We avoid values dilemmas, tensions, and tough choices.
Regrettably, our dominant political conversations almost seem designed in many ways to take these natural quirks and unleash them on our communities. The trouble begins with the two-party system and winner-take-all elections. Having this system at the base of our political conversations incentivizes communication either to the likeminded choir or to so-called “wedge” voters in the middle. Just as important, it almost completely removes incentives for messages designed to persuade or connect to the “other side” (meaning, in addition, there is little incentive to try to listen to or understand the other side). As a result, messages that link directly to the negative quirks of human nature—confident, simplistic, good-versus-evil narratives that avoid any sense of nuance and tensions—are rewarded. One side is lifted up as pure and correct; the other is cast as misinformed and corrupt. Rather than pushing back on these natural impulses, our current system encourages them. Such messages can easily either cherry pick evidence (that is, selectively utilize information that fits a narrative) or “nutpick” specific examples[2] (selectively promote a problematic argument from the “other side”—regardless of how minor or random its source—as representative of that side’s deepest beliefs and motives).
This basic model—of only needing to appeal to those on your side and, at times, some in the middle—also leads to discussions with very little productive interaction. It primarily supports the expression of individual opinions. Even our political “debates” are often simply joint press conferences, with each side working to get its talking points expressed and perhaps score a nice, short zinger that will make the news or go viral on social media. The panels on news shows that aim to establish a balance across perspectives often simply devolve into shouting matches, with arguments flying past each other, negligible “clash” (authentic engagement) and, certainly, minimal learning. Those watching likely accept the argument that fits their prior beliefs and dismiss the others.
Another factor undermining the quality of our political conversations is the dominance of a few voices, often those of the far left and far right political wings.[3] The “exhausted majority” is often silent. And increasingly the loudest and most frequently heard voices are simply pundits and partisans, often professional communicators seeking to send specific, predetermined strategic messages. They are not susceptible to persuasion or learning and will stay on message regardless of the arc of the conversation. Such communicators sell political ideas as if they were boxes of cereal or used cars. The purpose of the communication is to mobilize the likeminded, manipulate the undecided, and/or ridicule, undermine, or trigger the other side. The result is that the problems we face get harder to address.
A negative feedback loop and spiral of cynicism and partisanship typically follows. When the messages designed to mobilize or manipulate are heard by the other side, they tend to cause anger and frustration and thus help solidify negative assumptions and justify mean-spirited responses. Of course, those responses, when heard by the first side, do the same in turn, and away we go.
It’s pretty clear[4] that the animosity between political parties has reached excessive levels. The conflict is not merely one of political views or value differences; contempt is growing on both sides of the aisle. This “noxious brew of anger and disgust”[5] has significant repercussions, primarily because it further reinforces the simplistic narratives and narrows the thinking. Once people assume negative motives on the part of their adversaries, the possibility of productive communication breaks down. They may see any argument or action through those biased lenses and interpret it with ill will. In the end, they become more and more convinced that the problem is wicked people, not wicked problems. And with that assumption concerns about vanquishing the enemy far outweigh any impulse to address shared problems.
One prominent consequence of all this animosity and hyperpartisanship is the impact on the role of experts and facts. We know from social psychology research that facts struggle to prevail in hyperpartisan environments. Facts are unlikely to change minds when people are emotionally invested in their narratives and identities, and in some cases we are seeing evidence that the stronger the facts presented to show people they are wrong, the more likely the impact will backfire and they will simply dig in further.[6] Humans are quite adept at fitting new information into their existing narratives rather than allowing the new information to challenge them. In a state of hyperpartisanship, everything is interpreted through a lens that assumes corrupt motives for the other side, easily leading to the dismissal of any strong counterarguments as manipulation or outright lies. When facts and expertise are undermined in this way, we lose an essential basis for problem solving, as well as valuable common ground on which to build. If facts are merely ammunition when they fit your perspective and fake news when they do not, productive political communication is hopeless, and any solutions or actions derived from such processes are likely to be highly flawed.
Lastly, growing hyperpartisanship is clearly damaging our institutions. From the beginning, the Founders explicitly recognized the need for balance between unity and diversity in the United States, captured in the motto E pluribus unum (out of many, one). That tension can never be resolved but must be continually managed. There have always been centripetal forces that bring Americans together and, as expected in a diverse nation of immigrants that has never lived up to its lofty ideals, centrifugal forces that drive us apart.[7]
Unfortunately, the centrifugal forces seem to be strengthening as the centripetal forces weaken; or, in some cases, traditionally centripetal forces have been transformed into centrifugal ones, further knocking us off balance. Typically, for example, foreign affairs (and particularly wars) have brought Americans together, but since Vietnam the notion that politics stops at the water’s edge no longer seems to serve. The media used to be a common source of information but now have become politicized themselves and, more often than not, a source of partisanship and division. Our educational institutions are also more and more seen through the lens of partisanship, from kindergarten through university. Even at the local level, community organizations that used to bring people from different perspectives together and build social capital have withered, while national organizations focused on particular viewpoints have grown—another shift from forces that bring us together to those that divide us. All this division further undermines the conversations that need to occur.
In summary, in terms of the quality of our political conversations and the sort of engagement our political systems spark, the outlook is dreary. Tested against the keys to a high-quality conversation denoted in Part 1, our current model fails completely. Our leaders and dominant voices are often the most partisan; there is no clear presence of principled, impartial facilitators focused on elevating the conversation; and the information management is exceedingly poor. If we set out to design processes to ensure horrible, unproductive conversations that keep us from addressing shared problems well, our current national system would do very well. A two-party system with winner-take-all elections and politicized media that constantly broadcast and reward the loudest and most partisan voices is guaranteed to undermine any robust efforts at genuine engagement.
The bad news is that I do not foresee a clear path to change at the national level. The good news, however, is that as more and more people shift to focusing on the local level, opportunities will clearly arise. Part 3 will explain why and how.
* * *
[1] Martín Carcasson, “Process Matters: Human Nature, Democracy, and a Call for Rediscovering Wisdom,” a research report prepared for the Kettering Foundation, completed in July 2016. A brief summary is available as “Why Process Matters: Democracy and Human Nature,” Kettering Review (2017): 6–22, https://www.kettering.org/sites/default/files/periodical-article/Carcasson%20KFReview_Fall_2017.pdf.
[2] Ben Sasse, Them: Why We Hate Each Other and How to Heal (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2018), 106.
[3] Stephen Hawkins, Daniel Yudkin, Miriam Juan-Torres, and Tim Dixon, Hidden Tribes: A Study of America’s Polarized Landscape, report by More in Common, 2018, https://hiddentribes.us/pdf/hidden_tribes_report.pdf.
[4] Among many other sources, see Pew Research Center, Political Polarization in the American Public (2014); https://www.pewresearch.org/politics/2014/06/12/political-polarization-in-the-american-public/. Pew does such a report every 10 years; another is due out in 2024.
[5] Arthur C. Brooks, “Our Culture of Contempt,” New York Times, March 2, 2019.
[6] See, for instance, B. Nyhan and J. Reifler, “When Corrections Fail: The Persistence of Political Misperceptions,” Political Behavior 32, no. 2 (2010): 303–30.
[7] Jonathan Haidt, “The Age of Outrage,” speech delivered at the Manhattan Institute, December 17, 2017, https://www.city-journal.org/html/age-outrage-15608.html.
