The idea at the root of democracy

Standing up for democracy should not be polarizing

In the last few months I took a break from writing to participate in a 10 person socratic style “democracy” seminar with one of our nation’s top law professors and legal theorists who created the class to better understand how people in this country are currently thinking about democracy. The invitation came to me quite coincidentally through some of the volunteer work I do to support abolishing the death penalty. I say this to suggest that at the time, though I wasn’t thrilled politically, I was otherwise perfectly content in “my” life without a better understanding of the idea of democracy. And I think most people find themselves in this category, regardless of political persuasion. But after taking the class and talking to friends, it is clear to me that democracy is critically misunderstood—and that in itself is dangerous.

In typical socratic fashion, every class started with a hypothetical question that made you challenge and clarify “your” beliefs. Here’s an example of topics:

• If you were on the senate committee responsible for approving supreme court justices, would you approve a nomination for a justice with an impeccably perfect career who had repeatedly made racial slurs in college 30 years ago but later publicly admitted and addressed those incidents expressing a perfect version of remorse and change? Then if we would say yes, as I did because no person should be defined by the mistakes of their past, we might be asked if them joining the KKK in college would change our response, and so on.

• An LGBTQ couple getting married walks into bakery run by a an orthodox Christian firmly against same sex marriage and requests that the bakery design a cake for their wedding with a design that represents this same sex union. Should the baker have to comply?

• Birthright citizenship was created for a very specific period of time, and it’s served its purpose. Should we get rid of it?

The questions I shared above all broadly belong to the idea of justice. In this blog, I have on several occasions pointed out that what we casually call an idea is comprised of a range or spectrum of expressions, and that all of the expressions are what create the idea itself. It is not much different than a color wheel. And through socratic engagement with questions like these, I found that the sliver of the idea that I was holding on to at the time I was asked a question shifted and evolved to create further expressions of justice through the process. In other words, the more I was forced to explore my self I found nothing consistent there, and this process of emptying led me to a more complete picture or understanding of justice. Then in witnessing others go through the same experience and respond in their own unique ways, an even more whole picture or vision of justice started to form. I have intentionally chosen the word vision here because the word idea comes from Greek idein meaning to see. And my point in sharing this is that as individuals we can only see so much. However, in engaging with others our vision or what we see (our idea) becomes significantly more complete.

A partial view of justice, for example, may lead to something like hanging or the death penalty. But, in exploring the idea of justice and engaging with people who have been victims, perpetrators, families of victims or perpetrators, the wrongly accused, wardens, etc. we are likely to see that practices like this fall incredibly short of what we were seeking. So as the idea of justice becomes more whole or complete, we begin to heal—as individuals and as a society—precisely because we have explored all angles together. Note that I say whole intentionally: to “heal” means to make whole. As much as we would like to take individual shortcuts or escape this reality and leave everyone behind, our own development is inherently dependent on our interactions with others. This collective participation—people coming together, intentionally or not, to form a more complete vision of society—is the root of democracy.

But today there is more talk about democracy than there ever has been in my lifetime, and if you ask me, that’s cause for serious concern: we should have been standing up for this mysterious character we call democracy all along. Our call to support the basic human right to collaborative expression is long overdue. And our sudden interest has politicized the very idea of democracy. We should have all rallied for democracy when a stifling and seemingly arrogant neoliberal democratic agenda of political correctness became more important than supporting the working class. But we didn’t. And now this same spirit of repression has reached too far: into top universities, government, science, and history—so far that our executive branch is rewriting African American history on museum websites.

So while it might look like this is all the usual political pendulum swinging from one “side” to the other, on closer inspection there is no other side. It is one thing. And within it there is a nonpartisan cancer of repression that thrives in our society of individualism. When we reject democracy, meaning dēmos the people + kratia (from kratos) strength or power, we contribute to our own decay. But the solution is right in front of us.

When we stand fearless in the power of unity and ask you to stand up for democracy, we are not asking you to go against your beliefs or have any beliefs at all. Nor are we asking you to protest against the current government, unless you are called to do so. We are asking you to remember that you are part of a greater whole and that every part of that whole is needed to be complete; and in doing so to recognize that you have a responsibility to take action. A society that censors democratic discourse is broken and unwell. And a person who lives in that society is no different, whether they realize it or not. So this is no time to sit on the sidelines as a spectator. It is now and indefinitely time to see yourself in the other and stand beside the people that are or may be repressed.

These people are closer to you than you may think—likely your favorite college professors. Host a zoom conversation and seriously debate the current issues with your friends, sign a petition, or write your congresspeople on behalf of others in your community. This is all the spirit of democracy. What matters is that you stand up for collaborative forms of expression.

So will you join us in standing up for democracy?

First they came for the Communists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Communist

Then they came for the Socialists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Socialist

Then they came for the trade unionists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a trade unionist

Then they came for the Jews
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Jew

Then they came for me
And there was no one left
To speak out for me

Pastor Martin Niemöller