Democracy Isn't Supposed to Have a Throne

The most hopeful thing about the next generation of political leaders isn't any one of them. It's that there are more of them.

I made a comment about Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez the other day.

If AOC ever makes it to the Oval Office, we will be living in a very different world.

And it might just stand a chance.

Then again, that's too much hope to hang on one person.

That last line bothered me.

Because I don't actually think my hope is in AOC.

What excites me is that there seem to be more people talking about government differently. AOC. Elizabeth Warren. James Talarico. Pete Buttigieg. They aren't the same politicians. They don't agree on everything, and I certainly don't agree with everything any of them says.

That's kind of the point.

What interests me is the larger idea taking shape around them: that government should actually function. That it should solve problems. That a society can decide there are certain things its citizens shouldn't have to fight for alone. That healthcare, housing, education, wages, infrastructure and affordability aren't just individual problems to be survived but legitimate questions for all of us to solve together.

If that movement continues growing, does it really matter which one eventually sits behind the Resolute Desk?

Maybe we've been thinking about the presidency all wrong.

We've become so accustomed to Donald Trump behaving as though the presidency were something approaching a throne that we've almost forgotten democracy isn't supposed to work that way.

America doesn't elect a supreme leader.

It elects a government.

Hundreds of representatives and senators are elected by people across the country. Governors and state legislators have their own mandates. Judges aren't supposed to take orders from presidents. Members of Congress aren't employees of the White House, including those who happen to belong to the president's party.

They aren't supposed to bow to authority.

They're supposed to challenge it.

That's the entire fucking idea.

Power checks power.

Congress tells presidents no. Courts tell governments no. Opposition parties challenge governing parties. Members challenge their own leadership. Journalists challenge all of them. Citizens challenge everybody.

Somewhere along the way, we've started treating that friction as evidence that government isn't working.

Sometimes it's evidence that democracy is.

And that makes me reconsider what I originally said about AOC.

If she ever becomes president, perhaps we won't be living in a different world because she got elected.

Perhaps she'll get elected because we're already living in a different world.

Because enough people will have decided they expect something different from their government.

And if that's happening, AOC herself becomes less important.

Maybe it's Warren.

Maybe it's Talarico.

Maybe it's Buttigieg.

Maybe it's somebody we've never heard of who is sitting in a city council meeting somewhere right now waiting for their turn.

That's what a movement is supposed to do.

If your entire political project depends upon one extraordinary person winning one election, you don't have a movement.

You have a hero.

And heroes are fragile.

They lose elections. They make mistakes. They disappoint you. They retire. They die.

Ideas don't have to.

Ideas spread.

They get picked up by another candidate, another generation, another voter. Eventually the radical thing becomes the thing everybody takes for granted.

That's the world I find myself hoping for.

Not one where we finally find the right person to wield enormous power on our behalf. That's dangerously close to wishing for our own benevolent king.

I want something far less exciting.

Thousands of people throughout government representing millions of citizens, arguing with each other, negotiating, challenging authority, checking power and slowly moving society toward something better.

Messy.

Frustrating.

Slow.

Democratic.

Then perhaps presidential elections wouldn't feel like we're deciding the fate of civilization every four years.

The person sitting behind the Resolute Desk would still matter.

Of course they would.

They just wouldn't have to save us.

Because democracy was never supposed to have a throne.