Gary Moreau's Reviews > How Democracies Die

On the surface, this is a book about the internal contradictions of democracy and how those vulnerabilities can be exploited by those interested in authoritarian power with, in the case of the Republicans, a “white nationalist appeal.” It’s a valid assessment to about half of us, and they make a very strong historical and horrifying case in support of it. (think fascism, communism, and MAGA-ism)

Every coin, of course, has two sides. The failure or success of any political system, including democracy, will always be a matter of perspective. You say to-mah-to, I say to-may-to. One person’s democratic failure is someone else’s democratic validation, and there is little question as to which side of that perspective the authors come down on. “Moreover, America is no longer a democratic model.”

It struck me, as I read the book, that what the authors are ultimately arguing is that the coin of democracy, which they acknowledge as having two sides, should be kept very, very thin. The democratic failure they expertly portray, in other words, is a failure in moderation.

The need for moderation, the authors convincingly argue, was well understood by the Founding Fathers. That is why we have three branches of government, the rule of law, a dual-chambered legislative body that virtually ignores the concept of popular representation in one of its chambers (e.g., the U.S. Senate), and the Electoral College, which, as the authors note, was, in the beginning, even less democratic than it is today, because the delegates had virtually no obligation to behave as the voters instructed them to.

It is this political machinery, and the all-powerful two party system that grew out of it, that has, until now, according to the authors, kept political extremists at bay. Inexperienced outsiders like Henry Ford, George Wallace, and Huey Long may have made a lot of noise among the populists, but were kept at bay by the party bosses who, by implication, were protecting some higher standard of democratic ideals.

The “thin coin” argument, however, is always employed by the side of the coin that is out of favor, or, more specifically, out of power. It is, however, a semantic argument. Did democracy fail or did it finally succeed?

There is little question as to the authors’ political perspective on that question. “This all [the nomination of Trump] should have set off alarm bells. The primary process had failed in its gatekeeping role and allowed a man unfit for office to run as a mainstream party candidate.” The result: “President Trump’s is the least prodemocratic of any U.S. administration since Nixon’s. Moreover, America is no longer a democratic model.” The Republican objective: “…use the techniques of constitutional hardball to manufacture durable white electoral majorities.” To be accomplished, of course, through large scale electoral reengineering that includes massive deportations, abusive voter registration laws, etc.

The book is well researched and well written. It will, however, do little to bridge the current partisan divide. In the end, the “thin coin” argument is an argument in support of centrism. Is that, however, really what people on either side of the political aisle want? Both political parties, it seems, are internally fractured between centrists and the more extreme wings of each ideology.

I do agree with the authors’ assessment that, “When American democracy has worked, it has relied upon two norms that we often take for granted—mutual tolerance and institutional forbearance.” That is spot on and why I would agree with the authors when they argue, “In our view, the idea that Democrats should ‘fight like Republicans’ is misguided.” I don’t, however, support their conclusion, “Reducing [political] polarization requires that the Republican Party be reformed, if not refounded outright.” That’s another “thin coin” argument.

I personally don’t believe, moreover, that pushing politics back into the smoke-filled back rooms, in an effort to keep the outsiders at bay, is what anyone wants. My own sense is that things have changed. Technology, in short, has redefined the way we live, work, and learn, and doubling down on the old coin isn’t going to work. What we need, instead, is a new coin. We don’t need a to-may-to or a to-mah-to so much as we need something completely new and different.

Those of us who lived through half of the 20th Century or more know full well the perils and failure of fascism, communism, and authoritarianism. These, however, were manifestations of an either/or world. As technology integrates our global environment, our economies, and our societies, the either/or world that gives rise to the “thin coin” debate makes that debate less and less relevant. We need, instead, to think in terms of and/but. We need to think less in terms of limiting extremism of any variety and more in terms of how we create a more inclusive and just world.

Historians deal in historical facts and figures. The best historians, however, rise above those facts and figures to help us to better understand the context in which they came to be. In doing that they prepare us to make a more informed decision about the future.

While the authors, in this case, have painted a vivid historical picture that will appeal to all of the people who now feel they are looking in, myself included, they fail, in my view, to rise above the historical facts and figures to give us a viable vision for the future. That makes for a very interesting read, but not one on which to build an inclusive and prosperous America.