Meslin - Teardown: how to rebuild democracy from the ground up

Drain the swamp!

Sung by hopeful choirs of thousands, this three-word anthem echoed through stadiums across the United States in the autumn of 2016, a tidal wave of rage that swept their unlikely hero into the White House. Donald Trump told his adoring crowds, Our movement is about replacing a failed and corrupt political establishment with a new government controlled by you, the people. Meanwhile, an almost identical message was reverberating through crowds of equal size, as Bernie Sanders preached rebellion against a system held in place by corrupt politics. The only thing that can stop this corrupt machine is you! proclaimed one. This is what a political revolution looks like! echoed the other. Both peppered their speeches with the word rigged.

The seeds for these radical sermons had been planted years earlier by the Tea Party, a decentralized and leaderless right-wing movement, and Occupy Wall Street, a decentralized and leaderless left-wing movement.

We came to protest the blatant injustices of our times perpetuated by the economic and political elites.

Born from obscurity, our movement is a spontaneous force shaking the very glass foundation of the oligarchy that rules in our name.

You probably cant tell which of these quotes is from the Tea Party and which is from Occupy. Despite originating at opposite ends of the political spectrum, both of these anti-establishment uprisings were born from the same sentiment: power has become increasingly concentrated in the hands of the few, disempowering ordinary people like us. The two movements spread quickly, attracting tens of thousands of supporters to their marches and rallies, and inspiring the two underdog presidential candidatesboth of whom attracted larger crowds than any establishment candidates had seen in decades.

But these two restless movements were just the tip of an iceberg. Peoples lack of faith in our political system has reached a crisis point, extending far beyond the United States. A recent poll revealed that only 13 percent of Canadians trust politicians. This is consistent with other surveys across Western nations, which regularly rank politicians as one of the least trusted professions, typically placing them higher than only lobbyists and/or psychics. While some people express their cynicism and anger by attending marches and rallies, most simply give up and tune out. For these people, a rapidly growing group, politics has become a spectator sporta reality show that feels removed from their own lives. While the final hours of the 2016 US election were tense, with Hillary Clinton and Trump in a virtual tie all evening, the real story is that the largest bloc of voters chose neither of them. The largest group stayed home.

In Canada the previous year, there were cheers from political observers celebrating our increased voter turnout, but the truth is weve set the bar so low that we cheer for failure. Even with the highest turnout in two decades, one out of three voters stayed at home. Here, too, the largest voting segment in the entire country was the group who voted for no one.

The numbers are even worse when it comes to measuring political engagement beyond voting. Between elections, how many people get involved with the decision-making processes that affect their lives, their families and their communities? The answer is almost none. Its hard to blame them. Politics has become a demoralizing farce. Most decisions are made behind closed doors by political insiders, while our legislatures have been reduced to arenas of toxic adversarialisma childish circus and an embarrassment to our species. But the more we tune out, the more power the insiders have. And the more power they have, the more reason we have to tune out. You can see how quickly this snowball of apathy can grow.

So we find ourselves in a crisis of cynicism, flowing in three directions. First, we have our growing collective cynicism towards politicians. Second, theres a reverse flow: political elites are cynical about us. Unless theyre asking for our votes or donations, political leaders seem uninterested in our capacity to participate. But the third direction of cynicism is the most dangerous: weve lost faith in each other.

Stereotypes abound of a mindless, consumer-driven, self-absorbed society filled with people who are completely uninterested in politics, their community, or the pursuit of the common good. Think of how weve normalized the use of the word populist to describe political messages that are self-serving, ignorant or hateful. The actual word simply means support for the concerns of ordinary people. So the way were currently using the word endorses the belief that ordinary people are crude by nature and that the elite educated political class needs to operate independently from the desires of the populationto protect citizens from themselves. Ironically, this is exactly the kind of condescension that has propelled so-called populist leaders into power in the first place.

I believe in people. I look around, at my friends, my family, colleagues, neighboursand I see individuals who are inspiring, caring and open-minded. And sometimes Ill start up a political conversation with a stranger just to make sure Im not deluding myself from within a social bubble. I tend to do this in the two places that are most conducive to long discussions with complete strangers: taxicabs and barbershops. Ill broach a political topic, and the first response is almost always dismissive or self-deprecatingOh, I dont know much about that, or I dont really careaccompanied by a shrug. Its as if theyre trying to live up to our own cynical clichs of human nature. But if I gently push a little further, like heating up frozen soup, their opinions and ideas begin to thaw and the individual flows outwards. Even if I disagree with their views, I find myself appreciating their thoughtfulness and the complexity of their positions.