Corruption’s Such an Old Song: The Past and Present of Deceptive Democracy

And then Ruth Bader Ginsberg died. As mourners poured into the Supreme Court plaza, the

candlelit night gave way to memorialize the late Justice: a vigil of not only personal grief at the loss of a beloved, feminist-t-shirt protagonist, but of any surviving hope that our democracy had ever favored its people. Justice Ginsberg’s vacant seat was glowing under the eager eyes of the executives’ urgency to replace her with her inverse, and the country grabbed desperately for any power they had to stop it. They came up empty-handed.

American Democracy does not belong to the people. This is because it is no longer what it serves to do. A bit of history:

In America’s rowdy youth, when streets were teeming with drunken men and everyone had typhus, the electoral system was not much better off. This system, known as the “ticket system,” was largely unregulated by authority, which enabled the voters to decorate the voting system to their liking. Anarchically wonderful as this may seem in contrast to the reality of our current autocratic “democracy,” the ticket system was ridden with way-ins for corruptive pursuit.

The ticket system was a system of voting that relied heavily on the publicity aspect. Each candidate-representing ticket was easily distinguishable from another; they were printed in different colors, with different designs, and even perfumed such that everyone knew who you planned on voting for as you marched up to put your ticket in the box on election day.

A loud ticket made for an even louder voting scene. Since voters essentially wore their political choices on their lapels, the polls themselves were often a stage for debate, chaos, social intimidation, and general boozery. It was upon publicity and beneath anarchy that voter corruption thrived. Money-grabbing organizations, called “political machines,” were able to capitalize on the both the chaos as well as the knowledge of each voter’s opinion: they would bribe certain voters to vote in favor of their party or hire them to vote twice using thin slips of paper, which would go unnoticed in the havoc of the mob.

The self-determination of the ticket system was its own downfall. A public-run voting system seemed synonymous with corruption. This is where the Australian Ballot, designed to counter voter intimidation and deception, was introduced to American politics, and it remains as the system we will use on November 3rd of this year. Since voter corruption stemmed mainly from lack of privacy in voting, the Ballot intended to eliminate the role of social intimidation by making it impossible to tell how one was voting. The ballot was uniform and unscented, the voting booths were private, and the system in theory successful in eliminating the corruption from whence it was forged.

So why is it that, on November 3rd, 2020, we will have no way of knowing if the election results really reflect the will of the people? With President Donald Trump’s tightening autocratic grip, election hacking, poll worker shortages, and the paradoxical risk of mail-in voting, the 2020 election is pushing the very definition of corruption to its fringes. The only difference is that now, our democracy is privatized. Political corruption has shape-shifted from blatant bribery to a subtle, secretive funneling of power to the political elite. Pillars of democracy have “turned into instruments of patronage distribution to supporters and intimidators of opponents.” Like the ticket system, the executive rewards and punishes with bribery and incentive, and thanks to the Ballot, no one can know how they do it when it all happens behind the scenes.

Because the systems we have in place now were originally installed to minimize opportunity for corruption, we can draw that corruption evolves with its democracy. As democracies around the world grow older, they are falling victim to what Rounaq Jahan calls “waves of autocratization” in his article “Challenges to Democracy, Old and New.” Perhaps this effect can be attributed to the unspoken myth that our national democracy should be frozen in amber. The further America treks from its founding, the more afraid we are to alter the system. Ezra Klein explains in a Vox video that amendments to the constitution have become exponentially less popular in the last 70 years, signifying a national sentiment geared toward the preservation of our country’s original legislature. Corruption has permeated nearly every inch of the electoral system, and there is no sign of it stopping. The Australian Ballot is a part of this system, which is why it might be about time we reassess it.

To believe that our Democracy has reached its final and most-functioning form would render us sorely mistaken. America’s national mindset is dramatically hindered by the impression that corruption and democracy go hand in hand. This is where a distinction needs to be made: our democracy itself is not broken, rather it has been felled by autocracy and exclusion. These “early warning signs” of fascism do not stem from the intent of our democracy, but from the aspects of the system which we have neglected.

In truth, the aspect of democracy which we have neglected the most is ourselves. We have surrendered to the idea that eventually we will be able to restore democracy to the people and have a shot at pressuring the executive elite. This mindset reflects the poisonous myth of capitalistic success, the idea that if we keep trying hard enough to earn the political power we were promised, we will eventually restore balance to the system. But as long as we have true political revolution in mind, settling for short-term, faux-solutionist gestures will not be enough.

Like Klein explains, the salvation of democracy cannot come about as a product of desperate power grabs between the power and the people, nor can it be bought. It will need to take seed in actual principles of democracy. And right now, those principles need to be the antithesis of our system’s downfall, the moral opposite to money and power, which best manifest themselves in a culture of revolution.

To carry out this revolution, it will take a commitment to change and a succession from contentment. It requires that we do not try to be the elite, that we separate ourselves from them, and become their opposing force. It requires democracy to become a platform of constant amendment. Then, and only then, from the confines of corruption will we be free.