Time for a democratic reset

‘Amor mundi’, love of the world, is a basic tenet of Hannah Arendt’s philosophy of life and closely related to her idea of republican (i.e., democratic) politics. Currently, Western democracies have strayed far from the ideals stressed in this view.

Our leaders seem more preoccupied with self preservation and personal aggrandizement than public service, sometimes leaning heavily toward authoritarianism. Our supposed political priorities seem wildly out of whack with the public interest or good. “Contemptus mundi,” scorn for the world, appears to be winning. Democracies would benefit from an Arendtian rebirth of principles.

Key to Arendt’s ideas are the complex concepts of plurality, natality and action based on responsibility — the very premises upon which democracy is built. In their simplest forms, plurality means acknowledging that human reality rests on living respectfully with others. Natality implies that the uniqueness each new birth brings into the world offers hope for original beginnings and societal renewal. Action means political participation based on shared responsibility for making the world better.

By the world, Arendt envisaged the relationships formed by the interactions between people. The love she imagined is not self-serving, manipulative, abusive or exclusionary. Absent are the racial and gender discrimination, religious divisiveness, coercion and control that presently dot our political landscapes.

To live well together we must confront our differences and disagreements, take responsibility for not only our actions but also their consequences. They form the basis of any claim to citizenship we might imagine, and they represent what no political leadership can assume for us or take from us.

Arendt’s second call is for our leaders and our systems to promote and create public spaces and opportunities where we can engage with other citizens, preferably face to face, airing our various perspectives and considering those of others. This means we are invited and welcomed into the conversations which shape our lives, both on a grand and small scale. In addition to asking what and why of our leaders, we should ask them how their actions contribute to democratic participation.

Many of our current political (so-called democratic) leaders suffer from unwarranted arrogance, are seemingly cynical about citizen participation and distrustful of even their own colleagues. Treating our governments as private support systems for their personal whims, they make hasty, arbitrary and reactionary decisions, concerning themselves more with their images than their actions.

We share a responsibility to keep them grounded, humble and open to challenges.

Readers have recently raised serious questions about governmental priorities regarding the public good, especially when it comes to human well-being versus political and economic expedience. Could some of the billions being committed to the new arms race in the name of defence not be better committed to environmental crises and improving the life chances of the marginalized and disadvantaged?

Where is the democratic debate about the world being safer and friendlier as a result of “arming Canada to the teeth?” And how does our supposed economic independence square with more money for military industrial complexes around the world?

Somewhere along the line, our politics has become an arrangement of insiders and outsiders, with our leaders, people at the top, claiming, like corporate CEOs, to have the right and the wherewithal to force their views of the world on not only their own parties but also on the general population.

In my view, this calls for a democratic reset, not of the divisive populist kind, but an invitation to all to participate in world improvement. It’s far too easy to rely on technology driving pre-framed consultations — they are no substitute for the nuances and complexities of face-to-face interactions.

The most recent and best example of citizen participation, in my view, is the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. It could serve as a model for democratic renewal based upon invitation, inclusion and respect. It is an educational model in which listening, hearing and thinking together was prioritized over quick, often shallow, reactions and decisions. It served to alleviate some of the disempowerment from, and disenchantment in, our current political processes.

We all could benefit from an educative model of politics — experimenting with systems and strategies that envision better inclusive and equitable futures, together with others whose voices are currently silenced and ignored.

This is Arendtian amor mundi — citizens loving the world enough to take time and make the effort to participate responsibly, contributing in spaces and places imagined for us by democratic leaders who have room and time for all who wish to participate.

John R. Wiens is dean emeritus at the faculty of education, University of Manitoba.