Why I Don't Vote
One of my co-workers told me that I should post my reasons for not voting. In response, I have dug up a commentary that I wrote on October 14, 2002, addressing this very question. I did post this online but didn't tell folks about it; I think writing this piece was just a method for me to clarify my thoughts before November 2. With a few minor exceptions, I have reproduced the entire commentary as it was originally posted.
As November 2 draws near, I of course am bombarded by messages from friends, acquaintences, and the mass media, reminding me to go to the polls; informing me of how this election is the "most important in our lifetime"; trying to convince me that in this razor-thin campaign, my one vote "really does matter." Yet, despite some pangs of guilt from all of the mounting social pressure (I am human, after all), I did not register by the October 8th North Carolina deadline. Ultimately, I did not decline to register due to laziness (though I won't deny that played a small part in my decision), but rather, to principle.
I have voted only once in my life: the 1994 mid-term elections that brought in Gingrich & Co., ushering in the so-called Republican "Revolution." I was a sophomore in college and sent in my absentee ballot to my home state of New Mexico. At the time, I was relatively radical—I called myself a Christian Social Anarchist, which begs the question of why I bothered to perpetuate the state's existence by voting—and I remember casting my ballot for the Green Party candidate in the gubernatorial contest (he didn't win).
After '94, I probably wised up to the fact that anarchists, out of principle, shouldn't vote, and I haven't cast a ballot since. Nowadays, I remain a Christian, but I have shed my anarchism for the more moderate ideology of libertarianism. While I share social anarchists' distrust of state power, I do not agree with their critiques of capitalism. Relative to other economic systems, capitalism facilitates greater productivity, innovation, and wealth—including greater wealth for the poor.
Certainly, a libertarian would not vote for either of the two main parties due to any principled stand. Usually, a libertarian vote for a Democratic or Republican candidate is one for the "lesser of two evils." After all, to paraphrase one of my co-workers: These days, the main difference between the two parties is that Democrats favor solvent Big Government, while Republicans favor insolvent Big Government.
Fortunately, despite the stranglehold that the two major parties have on the American political imagination, one still can place a vote for a third party candidate, including the Libertarian nominee (this year, it's Michael Badnarik). While I certainly respect and admire my fellow libertarians who choose to express their beliefs through electoral politics, I must decline for two reasons.
The first is practical. When people say that individual votes don't count, they usually refer to the fact that out of the millions of ballots cast, a single vote is statistically insignificant. This is especially true in our Electoral College; if a given voter's state is solidly in one candidate's camp, then his/her single vote to the contrary is materially meaningless. However, my practical reasoning runs deeper. My individual vote wouldn't count precisely because public policy—in real terms—moves at an agonizingly slow pace. [I have to give credit to a political scientist friend of mine for having described some research that illuminates this point. However, I must admit that I have not read this research myself, nor do I know the authors' names.] As a libertarian, I see only two worthwhile and efficacious functions for the state: a limited national defense (not the bloated, interventionist defense we have now) and a limited judicial system. A vote for either Kerry or Bush would bring me nowhere near my desired public policy outcomes, and a vote for Badnarik—as much as I may like the policies of the Libertarian Party—would serve simply as a protest.
My second reason for not voting is based on principle. In line with my vision for the state, I would not feel right participating in a system that facilitates the growth of state power. While libertarian legal scholars encourage a strict interpretation of the Constitution, one which—they argue—would hold government growth in check, I believe that an even better constitution would limit state functions explicitly to defense and justice—while disallowing any amendment that would increase state size/power. Our current system is far from that ideal. Our elections allow—and even encourage—voters to choose candidates based on (a) who can provide the most goods (e.g., pork-barrel projects, corporate welfare, etc.), (b) who best can infringe upon the rights of "unfavorable" groups (e.g., pot smokers), or (c) both. Since we do not have a constitution that explicitly limits the state to defense and judicial functions—while irrevocably preventing future growth—we now witness campaigns that are electoral free-for-alls: positive rights run amok.
As such, I do not vote. Our system is both inefficient and corrupt, and I call on all libertarians to boycott the vote. Let your true protest be heard!
For another commentary on the virtues of non-voting, see Brian Doherty's excellent piece in Reason Online, published on (when else?) Election Day.
Copyright © 2004-5, Kevin O'Donovan. All rights reserved.
1 Comments:
Excellent question! I choose not to take action for a variety of reasons. First of all, relatively powerless, individual actors (such as myself) do not make major changes in public policy. I am neither wealthy nor powerful so political figures won't take me seriously. Secondly, even if I had a high profile, the probability of libertarian principles becoming adopted by the general population is slim to none. Most Americans (most people, actually) are not ready to live under libertarian principles and methods (partially out of fear). Finally, one of the major tenets behind libertarianism is a life free from formal political activity (campaigning, lobbying, and yes, voting). To participate in the political process seems to counteract what I ultimately desire from my politics - that is, the end of formal politics.
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