Does democracy scale?

Does human nature?

In Federalist 10, James Madison argued that a large republic contained safeguards denied to smaller versions. This was a novel concept. Previous experiments in self-government had been small in geographic extent. Citizens could know each other and build common bonds. As chief promoter of the new newly drafted Constitution, which would convert the thirteen existing republics—that is states—into a single republic, Madison had to counter the conventional wisdom. His argument was that while factions—his name for parties—might seize control of small republics, they would be neutralized by opposing factions in bigger ones. Ergo the large republic was the better bet.

Events proved Madison wrong. The parties that emerged in the fight over ratification persisted into the first years of operation of the new Constitution. Far from being neutralized by the larger scale, they became broadly sectional, with Federalists holding sway in the north and Republicans in the south. Trouble was already being stored up for the future.

Yet the question motivating Federalist 10 remains apt today. Political mavens quibble over the terms republic and democracy. The underlying issue is whether self-government scales. Can a system of government designed in classical times to solve the problems of city-states work on a scale hundreds of times larger? The population of the United States in 1789 was about half the population of greater Houston today. Even assuming that the Constitution was a perfect fit then, why would we think it should work today?

Part of the concern in 1789 was logistical. A message from Georgia to Massachusetts might take weeks to arrive, and the answer weeks more to return. Some government decisions have to be timely. How could they be, under such limitations? 

We've solved that problem. But we haven't solved another one. Self-government isn't a matter of citizens governing themselves individually. We call that self-control. Self-government is about people governing each other collectively. Can I govern you well if I don't know you?

With the best of intentions, I might apply the golden rule and do unto you as I would have you do unto me. But what if you and I have different tastes and aspirations? The problem wasn't simply that Georgia was far from Massachusetts. It was that people in Georgia might not understand what people in Massachusetts wanted and needed.

Here the question is whether human nature scales. People are shaped by their circumstances. Circumstances change from place to place. Georgia wasn't simply far from Massachusetts. It was different from Massachusetts.

The problem was compounded by growth in numbers. If two of us have to decide where to go to dinner, we can work it out. If our party is ten, it gets harder. Make it a million, or 100 million, or 335 million, and somewhere along the way the system grinds to a halt—the way Congress has ground to a halt lately.

Self-government works badly when individuals and groups seek only the immediate interests of themselves. It works better when they can imagine themselves in the positions of those they disagree with. This leap of imagination becomes the basis for compromise, for accepting less than the full program today, in the hope of revisiting the issue tomorrow. You give a little, you get a little.

Empathy is easiest with someone you know well, harder with someone you know a little, and hardest with someone you know not at all. We can know a few people well and a larger group a little. Beyond that, we’re guessing.

Winston Churchill famously said that democracy was the worst form of government except for all the others that have been tried. He said that a lifetime ago. Was it true then? Compared to fascism and communism, the contemporary rivals, yes. But that’s a low bar.

Maybe it’s still true. There are three times as many people in the world as there were then. America’s population is two-and-a-half times as big as it was. The complexity of problems seems to have gotten greater. But maybe democracy is still the best. 

If so, that’s kind of discouraging.

But even if it’s the best, that doesn’t mean it can’t be made better. We’ve got work to do.