The Democracy Deficit

The Democracy Deficit

Professionally run advocacy groups have largely taken the place of federations, unions, and farm groups. The result: some peoples' voices are not being heard.

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“Voice and Inequality: The Transformation of American Civic Democracy” by Theda Skocpol, in Perspectives on Politics (March 2004), American Political Science Assn., 1527 New Hampshire Ave., N.W., Washington, D.C. 20036.

When it comes to the making of government policy, the decades-long shift in America’s civic life from large, broad-based membership organizations to professionally run advocacy groups has had definite benefits: It has brought to the fore fresh voices (female, minority) and expertise and raised important issues. But, argues Skocpol, director of Harvard University’s Center for American Political Studies, it has also marginalized masses of Americans and caused their interests to be represented less well.

This unfortunate result can be seen in the contrasting fates of the GI Bill of 1944, which provided educational benefits and other entitlements to veterans, and the proposal for universal health insurance put forward by the Clinton administration during 1993–94. Both measures were popular with the public, but only the first became law. The American Legion, a fellowship federation with a nationwide network of chapters, drafted, lobbied for, and helped to implement the GI Bill, “one of the most generous and inclusive federal social programs ever enacted.” But in the case of the Clinton proposal, “highly specialized professional and advocacy associations influenced the drafting of the legislation.” They made it “far too complex” for ordinary understanding—and thereby sealed its doom.

According to Skocpol, the great transformation in American civic life between the 1960s and the 1990s, often attributed chiefly to Americans’ individual choices, was crucially brought about by “elite, well-educated Americans.” The Vietnam War, opposed by the “highly educated” young, drove a wedge between the generations; most traditional fellowship organizations (“racially exclusive and gender-segregated”) were hit by the civil rights and feminist “revolutions”; and, as women came to do more paid work, they had less time for volunteer activities.

Distrustful of bureaucratic, majority-rule institutions, “rights” activists created liberal advocacy groups—among them, the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Com­mit­tee, founded in 1960; the National Organization for Women, founded in 1966; the Women’s Equity Action League, founded in 1968; and the National Abor­tion and Reproductive Rights Action League (now called NARAL), launched in 1973. The formation of such groups in the 1960s and 1970s led to the rise in the 1980s of opposing conservative groups and business associations.

Instead of raising money from a broad array of members who pay modest dues, advocacy groups seek support from foundations and through computerized direct-mail appeals to affluent adherents, who are “heavily skewed toward the highly educated upper-middle class.” The groups’ leaders have “little incentive to engage in mass mobilization” or to develop state and local chapters. Their lives are “more socially enclosed” than were those of their counterparts of previous generations, who tended to regard themselves as “trustees of community.”

As fellowship federations, unions, and farm groups fade in importance, says Skocpol, the opportunity is being lost for people in blue-collar and lower-level white-collar occupations to learn civic skills and political knowledge and, in some cases, to move into leadership positions at the district, state, or national level. Today’s advocacy groups “are not very likely to entice masses of Americans indirectly into democratic politics.” Or, as the botched Clin­ton health plan demonstrated, to represent well their values and interests.

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