When I wake up (sometimes in the
afternoons at the moment…) I find myself swamped by emails. Today I had a look
over at the Philosophy Community on Google+ for the first time in a couple of
weeks, and after only a moment’s scrolling, discovered this:
“Elite oligarchy is the
unbendable law of human nature, due largely to the apathy and division of the
masses. Democratic institutions do no more than shift the exercise of power
from oppression to manipulation.”
I thought to myself, hmm. And I continue to think, hmm.
One
of my first questions (to myself, mainly) was: imagine a political system
whereby parties did not use elected officials, but their entire membership or
affiliation; in a situation with mass gatherings and convergences of views,
opinions, beliefs, that will all have different tints, how would the exercise
of power be managed? Would progress be seen, conclusions made, actions
performed?
Having
read quotes from Robert Michels and Darcy K. Leach, it seems futile to write
something antithetical to the stance of the quote. Much of what is argued,
particularly by Michels, has great weight. First, that when a democratic body
initiates in a small number, it exists in a healthier state to reach conclusions
in a form that could be described as democratic, that is to say, through the
will of the people. Second, that when there is a growing democratic machine,
party or vessel, it becomes increasingly difficult to organize. Organize what?
Discussions, debates, voting ceremonies, speeches. Despite being in what might
be termed the Technological Age, no country has the power to rally hundreds of
thousands of people quickly into one place, and provide the necessary order,
peace and understanding for topics or matters of debate and discussion to be
addressed en masse. That is, imagine attempting to fit, oh, say, three million
people into a public city square for five hours on a Saturday afternoon, in
order to address a wholly-reaching, all important matter regarding human
rights. It would require vast, punctual, efficient transport; not to mention
large and powerful sound equipment, law enforcement, refreshments, a latrine or
toilet system of some kind or other, and probably a prohibition, or at the very
least, limitation, on the amount of alcohol people could not just purchase
(think proxy, here), but consume. How would this be established? There would
have to be some sort of stamp-card system for each drink bought, with, perhaps,
three drinks being the maximum. Taking all of these considerations into account,
the party or group would discover on Monday morning a rather large chit. How
could this be managed — through the use of a “member” system? Whereby, to be a
member of said democratic party, one must contribute, say, £3 a year? Fair
enough, this amount is small and for many people it can be earned in half an
hour of paid work. Less fortunate people, however, cannot piece together even
half of this sum for a cup of coffee on a cold winter’s Tuesday. What this
small membership also comes with, concomitantly, is the implication (perhaps
even accusation) that a person is
being charged, not to have a voice, but to have a voice which is legitimized. To be able to hold one’s
hand up and know that their words are being absorbed, chewed on, spun around
and considered with some level of meaning, and not merely cast aside as mere
verbal dung. Where membership is concerned, money is both authenticity and (to
a lesser degree) authority.
There
is both logic and merit, therefore, in having elected officials. A much smaller
number would mean less of a stress on transport, law enforcement and alcohol;
having a parliamentary establishment would fully enforce rules of etiquette and
behaviour, enabling these representatives to get down to the business of
representing.
These elected
delegates would likely be people of intelligence, charisma and authority. MPs,
for example. Hailing from constituencies spread across a country or region,
each carrying the views of (in the case of Great Britain’s First Past the Post
system) the highest accumulation of any party represented in a constituency
(that is to say, if one party held support from 8% of a constituency, and
twenty-three other parties could only muster 4% each, then the 8% would be the
party elected as the “winner”). Thankfully, this probably won’t ever happen to
the extremity of only 8% of a constituency being the so-called enfranchised by the time the voting is
counted and finalized. Worryingly, this number, if the party with 8% were to storm
their way to victory with much higher accumulations across the rest of the country,
could easily be forgotten provided any form of hung parliament or absence of a clear
majority are avoided. Nevertheless, it seems that there is an absence of
democracy if 8% of constituents are represented, and 92% with varying views are
left in a state of disarray.
Robert
Michels, who coined the phrase Iron Law of Oligarchy, claimed that ‘Who says
organization, says Oligarchy’. In a so called democratic state, people elect officials as a manifestation of the
representative voice of a country, region, constituency, to be a rational and
logistical means (no doubt suggested by people that have, down the years, been
elected, no less) of converging en masse. These elected are the mages of this world. The chosen ones, each with an
aspect of views, desires and social, economic, racial, political hues that
differ from opinion to opinion, from class to class, from psyche to psyche. However,
considering this part of the statement I found, “due largely to the apathy and
division of the masses,” it seems naïve to propose that, beyond being the sword
of their constituency, the elected official has no other role where
organization is concerned. Apathy and division. Aristotle argued that a large
and stable middle class, bearing much smaller edges of wealth and poverty
either side of it, would be the best possible social conglomeration through
which to achieve democratic polity. According to university research, the Great
Britain of 2013 has seven recognizable social classes, all the way from
“precariat” (precarious proletariat) through to “elite”. These two diametrical
groups include a total of between 21-22% of the population, meaning that 78% of
Great Britain is somewhere between
poor and rich. It is extremely easy
to simply say these things and come up with ostensibly logical redistribution
plans or to sit down, ponder and then contrive various vessels for investment.
Easy in theory; in practice, far more difficult. The 6% which account for
Britain’s social elite are likely the people with contacts all around the
globe; with real investments and sure monetary strategies. Some of it might
well be inherited; some if it could very possibly be hard-earned. A new,
reworked tax system, however, is not where I’m looking.
78-79%
of a so-called world power’s
population is somewhere in the middle,
a middle which itself is divided into five categories. Consider then, the three
biggest political parties in Britain; the Conservatives and the Liberal
Democrats (currently in a coalition government together) and the opposition
party, Labour. Labour, as a political party, speaks out in its very title to
its intended class. The very word labour
is almost laborious in and of itself. Say it, labour, feel the -bour
pull you onwards at the end. There’s almost a we’re in this together psychological message coming through. Or
maybe I’m just good at contriving bullshit.
Could apathetic and divisive be states of being attached to the 78% of Britain’s middle
spectrum? Age, wealth, living location, cultural and social capital, can all be
considered to separate these groups in one fashion or another. There exist
people with a social climbing ambition; equally, some people are happy in their
situation, content with working 9-5 each day in an industry, with two or three
children and an awareness of no real economic danger without ever being able to
jump out of bed one day and buy a brand new sports car.
Why are people
apathetic towards politics and the political philosophy? Life for many people
is a twenty-four hour cycle. This cycle involves the early morning cries of the
alarm, the steaming kettle and buzzing toaster at breakfast. The cold, frosty
morning meets you on your commute to work, be it via train, bus, car or another
method, and it is uncomfortable. Hustle and bustle, nobody with the time to
stop and greet with a smile; suits only half-ironed revealing creases around
the edges; people’s hair might not be fully arranged. Life is a rush. Come the
end of the working day, the only eagerness driving most is to return home
safely, have dinner and finally settle down with a book or a television programme
and sip a warm drink or a glass of red in order to wind down. Then they sleep, and repeat. This is a never-ending
cycle, which might also include driving children to and from school, helping
them with homework, engaging with them, bathing them and reading their bedtime
story; yes, oh yes, and in this cycle, where are people supposed to make the
time to consider their political principals? When spare time is found, people
are wont to steal away those precious moments in a state of languor, because
they feel the rest of their time is spent working towards the next day and the
next. This, then, is where we might
see apathy. Less and less, I suspect, are elected officials chosen and
supported through a passion that is white-hot. These political delegates are
selected to make decisions on behalf of people with whom, yes, some ideology
might be shared, but they are people who simply don’t believe they have the
time to make these decisions themselves anyway.
Division.
Seven billion
humans, give or take a few million, inhabit earth. Among those lucky enough to
voice their opinions, it is indubitable that there will be conflict. Different
interpretations leading to people standing on opposite sides of the chasm; be
the debate political or religious, and whether or not there are fully-fledged
differences in individual’s standpoints, or only minor distinctions, there
always exist these oppositions. Debate is perceived as a useful tool; a tool
with which people can define standpoints. Debate is a form of expression that
shelters speakers in an agreed level of respect from peers and listeners. Division
and debate together are a positive mixture; they illustrate that human beings
are always thinking; making calculations to find a new and improved system to
execute that will hopefully give a fairer future to more people than the
current system does. However, the fact remains that these debates are voiced by
the elected political manifestations of a constituency, and not the whole scope
of its constituents. This in itself is a form of manipulation. When one person
speaks on behalf of three million, there is bound to be at least one instance
of division; it is the delegate, however, who ultimately has the voice, and
because this oligarchical form of government, which will always supplant a
messy and disorganized mass attempt at democracy, has succeeded over a
monarchical form of rule (in Great Britain, anyway), it continues to stand,
sometimes camouflaged under the term democracy.
The larger the population, the more paperwork and minor quandaries, meaning, of
course, the birth and utilization of bureaucracy to take care of these nuances.
Ultimately, as
much as I wished to disagree with the statement that Oligarchy is the
unbendable law of human nature, I see no evidence to form an argument. All
around us people are delegating tasks. All around us there are people
privileged enough to have an opinion they can voice, but still society is
poisoned by an insecurity in the self, whereby people lack the courage of their
convictions and this is why, when a leader bravely presents his or her self to
their electorate, people already hope this potential prime being has the
qualities a leader should have.
As an aside. I have begun a blog dedicated to book reviews, to be updated as and when
I'm able to finish reading books. The first post is on Scott Lynch's The Republic of Thieves and the Gentleman
Bastards Sequence. Take a look at http://unheroicinsights.wordpress.com/
Secondly, I have written an article on the Lotus
drivers Kimi Raikkonen and Romain Grosjean over at http://fulltimesport.com/ -
please feel free to give it a read. Credit for Gus Harris, too, the owner of
the site, for some excellent sports reading.
S.C.
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