Doing Politics

Video Presentation (with Buttermore and York)
Conference Discussion

There is ample anecdotal evidence that, Tip O'Neill notwithstanding, most politics, as the term is commonly understood, has been nationalized. Consider the rugged individuals who boast that they "don't need nor want government," and that "no bureaucrat will prevent us from building homes where we want to build our homes" (never mind that the home is in a flood plain along the Gulf Coast). They will, of course, scream bloody murder when the government disaster check hasn't arrived three weeks after the hurricane. Or a constituent who accosts his representative in no uncertain terms: "Congressman, make sure the government keeps its power-hungry hands off my Social Security." Comments such as these, so uninformed and yet so determined, force the most local official with a good record in public life and a positive personal story to hammer home his or her "just say no" national policies--tax cuts, balanced budgets, term limits, welfare cuts, and getting tough on crime. Thus, the political conversation is inconsistently nationalized although the subject being flaunted may have no relationship to those things that matter most in our communities. The inconsistency occurs when representatives are told to slash taxes, protect and or increase benefits, trim pork and bring home the bacon.

An even more ominous social transformation has occurred over the past two or three decades. Contrary to the optimistic musings of Mrs. Roosevelt, Americans have suffered from a diminished civic engagement and social connectedness more profound than the abandonment of the voting booth. Whimsical but disconcerting evidence in support of this proposition is offered by Robert D. Putnam, Dillon Professor of International Affairs at Havard University. Professor Putnam reports that America's enthusiasm for bowling has grown substantially over the last decade or so, but there has been a corresponding decline in the memberships of organized bowling leagues. Lest the reader think of this as a trivial example, Putnam argues that between 1980 and 1993 the total number of bowlers in this country increased by 10% while league bowling declined by 40%. This growing tendency to bowl alone illustrates another vanishing form of social capital. The broad social significance of bowling alone, according to Putnam, lies in the loss of social interaction and the occasional civic conversations that inevitably occur over beer and pizza. This is what solo bowlers forego. But perhaps at this point we should suspend assessments of why U.S. social capital is eroding and focus instead on the need to cultivate vibrant civic life in soil that until a quarter-century ago was hospitable to self-governance.

Doing the public's work--engaging in public politics--requires certain practical skills such as chairing meetings, speaking, working with diversity and handling different viewpoints, resolving conflict, and listening. These skills make social interaction possible and stimulate social capital. Practicing these skills is not an insignificant part of what we do when we "do politics."

But if you were to broach the subject of "politics" in polite conversation and ask people to describe what they do when they "do politics" what would we have? The responses are usually predictable and can be plotted along a continuum ranging from the very negative (lying, cheating, projecting a false image, stealing, stalling, etc.) to more traditional "governmental activities" (running for office, voting, passing laws, compromising, persuading, lobbying, etc.). Rarely will they provide phrases aimed at the highest ideals of politics (providing justice, making good decisions, caring for those unable to care for themselves, and collaborating with a multitude of stakeholders to work toward a common purpose), and we almost never hear phrases describing deliberative politics (listening, seeing the whole, seeing the parts, respecting one another, finding common ground, or making choices).

What we usually think of as "Politics as Usual" is the conjunction of what we do when we are not at our best (lying, stealing, etc.) and the things we must have (voting, campaigning, making laws, etc.). Understanding that what people call "politics as usual" contains both negative and necessary elements is essential if we are to avoid a false polarization between governmental politics and deliberative politics. Such a polarization would imply that deliberative politics and politics as usual are mutually exclusive rather than being complementary. It also leaves the impression that deliberative politics is just a way to educate citizens and permit civil discourse rather than being a key component of effective political decision-making. The politics we see around us in our daily lives, "politics as usual," is expressive (that is, everyone is free to say what she or he thinks); it is majoritarian (that is, to "win" one must get at least 51% of any group to agree to what he or she thinks); and it is adversarial (the struggle to "win" inherently pits us against one another to achieve a majority). These attributes of "politics as usual" are indeed very significant, but they don't contribute to the formation of a vigorous public (not just congeries of interest groups), or a discursive community capable of thinking about the common good. While each of us can enjoy a refreshing glass of cool water, we rarely pause to consider the common well, or source, from which the glass is drawn. Very few individuals in society, with the possible exception of environmental activists, would pause to raise their voice in protest of the possible pollution of our common source of fresh water.

If we are to seriously address vexing social problems such as environmental pollution, we must certainly redefine politics so that the citizen is something more than a bystander, client, or consumer. Indeed, citizens should be at the center, with greater control over and responsibility for their common future. But let us be very clear; this view of public politics is not to be construed as an alternative to politics-as-usual which we know only takes place in legislative arenas. It is instead the missing element--citizens working together to solve problems, even to change communities. Different from traditional civic activism, public politics embraces comprehensive problem-solving as opposed to dealing with issues one by one. Unfortunately, when the body politic, a hodgepodge of largely disinterested souls, is called into action, we are frequently ineffective. So many people stand on the fringes of involvement that civic action is fragmented and turf protection becomes a fine art. What passes as "the public" is subsequently unable to speak to officeholders with a coherent, knowledgeable public voice.

The loss of civic, or public involvement is quantitative as well as qualitative in nature. In the 1992 presidential election, more Americans than ever before--104 million--went to the polling booth, yet this total represented just 55 percent of eligible voters. The good news is that 1992 saw the highest percentage turnout since 1968. The bad news is that many other democracies do much better. In 1994, for example, 85% of Italians voted. And in the 1996 presidential election in Russia, 67% of the eligible voters trudged to the polls. But while voting is, for some, a duty and a privilege, for most it is the extent of our civic involvement. Most Americans are cautious and inconsistent when we "do politics." Consequently, we are concerned about some issues and apathetic about others. These inconsistencies, along with the institutional structures bequeathed to us by the framers, make it difficult to bring clarity to the chaos of public conflict.

What will it take to put the public back into politics, as well as improve the quality of that involvement? Only a small portion of the population will take an intense amateur interest in politics without being coaxed. While these relatively few activists are outspoken and programic, most folks will only involve themselves when they see a connection between what is most valuable to them and the specific issues of the day. Yet what I value and what others value could be at odds, so we wind up taking different approaches to solving the same complex issue. Consequently, before our kaleidoscopic menagerie of factions, interest groups, current fads, and powerful personalities can act together, choices must be made. Making these difficult choices together requires public deliberation, which generates public knowledge that informs the actions people take together. This is the kind of public knowledge "we the people" must bring to the table so that elected officials can do their job effectively, and this is the type of "politics" we must practice.