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Two decades ago, two authors posed a radical challenge to our understanding of capitalism.
In their book, A Postcapitalist Politics, Katherine Gibson and Julie Graham argued that despite all claims to the contrary, we do not live in a capitalist economy. Instead, we live in a world of diverse economies, in which capitalism exists alongside cultures of gift-giving, mutual aid, nonprofit organizations, government programs, social enterprises and unions/worker collectives – as well as slavery and other types of forced labor.
These “alternative economies” rely on fundamentally different kinds of transactions and labor. And while they may sound marginal, these alternative economies make up an enormous part of the global system. For instance, anywhere from a third to half of economic activity around the world takes place via unpaid household labor. Viewed from this perspective, traditional capitalism soon becomes a minority portion of the economy; it’s merely the tip of the economic iceberg.
I believe it’s time for a similar transition in our understanding of democracy. Just as we do not live in a single, coherent economic system, we do not live in a single, coherent democratic system. And just as we live in a world of diverse economies, we should welcome a world of diverse democracies.
We usually assume that democracy means elections. We elect politicians, and then they govern our cities, states and countries.
But increasingly, we hate how this narrow interpretation of democracy actually works. We invest so much hope, energy and money in elections, then end up with politicians beholden to their rich donors; bitter polarization that drives us apart and prevents us from solving problems; and little power to do anything about it. Even when our candidate wins, he or she inevitably becomes a “slave” to the broken system.
Over the past couple of decades, alternative forms of democracy have emerged, although their implementation has been spotty and siloed. What we need is to move from a self-destructive reliance on one singular form of democracy to a diverse ecosystem, as we have with capitalism.
Different practices of democracy vary according to who is engaged, how they are engaged and the scope of their authority. Direct, deliberative and participatory democracy empower citizens (and often noncitizens and others who are typically ineligible to vote) to participate in and sometimes make decisions about policies, laws and budgets that govern our societies, relating to issues from climate change to homelessness. Voting is just one form of democracy.
Others are participatory budgeting, randomly selected citizens’ assemblies, participatory policymaking and legislative theater. These approaches are also taking root outside of government, helping us make decisions together in our communities, workplaces and personal lives.
However, despite the growing track record of success, democratic practices beyond elections are far from commonplace. What will it take to get us there?
I’ve spent the past 20 years exploring this question. And I believe that to shift our understanding and practice of democracy, we must find inspiration from parallel work to reimagine the economy.
In their book, Gibson and Graham used an iceberg to illustrate the array of diverse economies.
But icebergs are naturally weighted so that their lower mass is kept underwater, with only a small portion visible above. This balance is hard to shift; it’s literally weighted against change. Even if we melt away the top, most of the iceberg remains hidden.
Diverse democracies are not frozen in place. As I describe in a new white paper, I instead prefer an image depicting an ecosystem, with interconnected parts. What happens in one decision-making space impacts the others.
A healthy ecosystem of democracies requires diversity. Different species thrive in different contexts. Pine trees do well on alpine slopes, but less well on desert dunes. Citizens’ assemblies work well for resolving divisive political questions, but less well for deciding budget allocations. We need diverse democracies, because different approaches work at different times for different issues and different people.
The solution to our crisis of democracy is not to perfect elections or to replace them with randomly selected citizens’ assemblies. What we need is to deepen and connect the diverse ways that we practice democracy, building a more resilient and effective democratic ecosystem.
So what might a healthy ecosystem of diverse democracies look like in practice? Fortunately, we have some real-world examples.
In 2021, Paris became the first big city to create a permanent citizens’ assembly.
The city council voted to establish a people’s chamber of government, a randomly selected body of citizens with a substantial role in government. Each year, the city randomly selects 100 residents to serve on the assembly, balancing the participants to reflect the city’s diverse population. The assembly has the power to submit bills for debate in the city council and to evaluate and convene hearings on existing city policies.
The assembly builds on the success of the city’s participatory budgeting program, the largest in Europe. Every year, residents decide how to spend €100 million to improve the city. They propose ideas, deliberate, then vote on which projects to fund.
To keep the participatory budgeting process dynamic, it has a different focus each year. Picking the theme is a divisive issue, so this decision is delegated to the citizens’ assembly (which is great at resolving big, divisive questions). By combining them into one “ecosystem,” participatory budgeting, the citizens’ assembly and city council become stronger individually as well.
Can this ecosystem approach function on a more complex, national level? South Korea has demonstrated that it can. Via its national participatory budgeting program, named My Budget and launched in 2018, citizens can submit, discuss and prioritize programs. The government then screens them for feasibility and sends them to a Citizens’ Budget Committee for review. The committee discusses and prioritizes the proposals, and the government includes them in its national budget. The National Assembly, an elected body, then approves the budget.
The Citizens’ Budget Committee consists of as many as 450 people from across the country, randomly selected and balanced to ensure that marginalized groups and sectors are well represented. Informing its discussions is the government’s Expert Support Council, supported by online and in-person training.
For the 2021 national budget, 63 proposals were funded through My Budget, valued at $201 million. That is a small amount relative to the total national budget, but it’s a microcosm of what’s possible.
Right now, we are headed toward the opposite of a healthy ecosystem of democracies. Democracy is under attack by billionaires and corporations. Right-wing funders and authoritarian regimes have directed billions of dollars to think tanks, university centers, media and hackers, all working against a broad and effective democracy ecosystem – government by the people.
When an allegedly grassroots movement pops up to overturn valid election results or downplay a social issue with widespread popular support, like efforts to reverse climate change, chances are that it’s bankrolled by a handful of billionaire donors, as Jane Meyer and Nancy McLean have thoroughly documented, or by autocrats such as Vladimir Putin. These anti-democratic forces are even coordinating their work globally, through networks such as the Atlas Network and Mont Pelerin Society.
Unfortunately, the response to these attacks from the “pro-democracy side” has focused on making elections work better. While this is important, it is the democratic equivalent of “clean coal” - a better version of an inadequate solution.
For example, organizations such as Democracy International, National Democratic Institute and Freedom House promote free and fair elections as the way to promote democracy. And this limited focus has been internalized by social movements. In July 2023 the 22nd Century Conference brought together leading community organizers to “effectively block the rise of the authoritarian right while advancing pro-democracy strategies and campaigns.” It did not define democracy explicitly, but by default only discussed electoral democracy. Even when advocates call for “expanding democracy work,” it usually only extends to elections.
We need to learn from climate change advocates, who don’t call for better oil refineries; rather, they think big and demand a transition to more diverse and renewable energy sources. We need a just transition for our democracy as much as for our climate.
This transition will not be easy. Like the just transition for climate change, it will require many people to change their jobs and skills. Politicians must share more decision-making power with citizens. Civil servants must spend more time engaging people. Citizens must learn how to deliberate with their neighbors and decide complex issues. These changes will require a massive investment in training and supporting individuals and institutions.
The transition must also be just, and follow different paths in different places. If you face constant discrimination, work a 70-hour week or don’t speak the dominant language, you’re less likely to sign up for a citizens’ assembly.
There are signs of a transition underway. In recent years, leading global institutions have begun shifting resources and attention toward diverse democratic approaches. The United Nations, European Union and even World Bank have committed hundreds of millions of dollars to innovations in participatory and deliberative democracy.
So far, however, this democratic transition has been as slow as our climate transition. We have experimented with alternative energy sources and innovations in democracy, while continuing to pour vastly more resources into cars and elections. We have toyed with alternatives, while the ice caps and our trust in democracy melt away. Extreme weather events and authoritarian regimes are wreaking havoc at a faster rate than our efforts to counteract them.
Most of our biggest problems - from climate change, to war, to disease - are more equitably addressed if we move decision-making power away from oligarchs and billionaires toward the rest of us. To do this, we need a democracy ecosystem.
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Josh Lerner is co-executive director of People Powered, a global hub for participatory democracy.
He has 20 years of experience developing, researching and working with community engagement programs around the world. He was previously co-founder and co-executive director of the Participatory Budgeting Project, a nonprofit organization that empowers people to decide together how to spend public money.
Josh completed a PhD in politics at the New School for Social Research and a master’s in planning from the University of Toronto. He is the author of “Making Democracy Fun: How Game Design Can Empower Citizens and Transform Politics,” Everyone Counts: Could Participatory Budgeting Change Democracy? and over 20 articles exploring the future of democracy.
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