EVERY NOW AND THEN, the Washington Post runs a series that plucks at the strings of Beltway hearts. Inevitably, these series distill the collective wisdom of the capital’s political elites — sometimes right, sometimes wrong, sometimes an instructive mixture.
The most recent example was a front-page six-parter concerning the public’s alleged ignorance of and cynicism about politics. It employed surveys, focus groups, and experts in an exploration of contemporary political alienation. In some respects, the series was competent and informative. But it erred in overstating the extent and meaning of public ignorance, and did so in ways that flatter students of the masses-as-morons school of political analysis.
The American public would have difficulty passing a civics test, yes — this is strictly dog bites man. As the Post reported, only a quarter of Americans can name their two U.S. senators. Barely half can name the speaker of the House, and only a third can name their congressman. Is this cause for despair over American democracy? Probably not, for three main reasons.
First, survey questions are poorly designed if they ask people to name politicians by their official titles. Relatively few Americans can do this. But large majorities can pick the right name off a list — a task more akin to the actual act of voting. People may not be quick to blurt out Newt Gingrich’s exact title, but they likely know something about where he stands and the role he plays. After all, if no one has heard of Gingrich, how can he be widely unpopular? Surveys endeavoring to test the citizenry’s knowledge must not be animated by a spirit of “gotcha.”
Second, the Post’s surveys were conducted from November 1995 to January 1996, nearly a year before the general election. Unless some national crisis is looming, normal, sensible people simply do not focus on politics at such a time — nor should they have to.
Last, the series missed a critical point: The electorate is not the same as the public. Those surveyed were random adults, not likely voters. In most presidential elections, just over half of adult citizens turn out to vote; in non-presidential elections, the percentage is lower still. Some nonvoters are truly without a clue about politics and probably will remain so for life. Other nonvoters are young people who as yet have few responsibilities. (When they buy property and have children in school, their interest in politics will increase.) Others are ineligible. Still others stay home on election day because pollsters have already declared the winners. Politicians hoping to attain office by capitalizing on public ignorance should realize this about opinion polls: Voters know more about politics than nonvoters.
The contention here is not that ignorance of politics poses no problem. Americans themselves believe that they need to do more to keep up with the political world if the government is to work better. It would be nice if more people recognized that, to balance the budget, we have to come to grips with entitlements, not just discard a few bureaucrats, cut congressional pay, and end fancy lunches for Boutros Boutros-Ghali (though admittedly these aren’t bad ideas).
But to argne that Americans must be experts on the most complex political issues suggests an acceptance of direct democracy not in accord with the Constitution or with American traditions. Traditionally, leaders decide policy, subject to periodic judgments at the ballot box. It is only when politicians act from daily polling that it is vital for the public to be exceptionally well informed. And if we do things that way, why have elected leaders at all?
In this vein, political scientist John Geer has suggested that opinion polling has made political realignments more difficult than ever. Currently, candidates and whole parties can simply switch positions (or lie about them) with the fluctuations of the polls. In the past, politicians couldn’t know what voters thought before an election took place. They had to guess; often they were defeated as a result. Compare today’s creeping 30-year Republican realignment with upheavals like the Civil War and the New Deal.
Political elites quite naturally favor the masses-as-morons paradigm: It serves as self-justifying protection against term limits, tax simplification, and other populist reforms. “If only the public understood how hard we work and how important we are to their lives,” goes the thinking, “they surely wouldn’t begrudge us our pay, our perks, our power.” Masses-as-morons validates the kind of poll worship and hyperpragmatism that separates politics from governing.
So we may be forgiven for asking, Just who are the real cynics here?
Robert Maranto teaches government at Lafayette College and is the author of Politics and Bureaucracy in the Modern Presidency.