How Voting Against Erodes Our Democracy

Every time the presidential election approaches, I feel pressure to vote from almost everyone I speak to. I usually ignore it, but when the pressure mounts, I feel obligated to explain my reasons, though few are willing to read or listen seriously.

There are many reasons I choose not to vote, and I’ve explained some in the past. In a way, it’s similar to how some Christians say they live “in the world” but not “of the world.” I do not feel like a citizen of any country, even though I live in the U.S. Even as a child, I’ve always felt like an outsider looking in, and I’ve preferred it that way.

But beyond such abstract philosophy, there are also political reasons tied to our current predicament in the U.S. and elsewhere. One reason the pressure to vote is so intense is that both sides of the political divide feel the other poses an existential threat to democracy. For Democrats, Republicans represent a fascistic threat, while for Republicans, Democrats pose an oligarchic threat, ruled by “elites.” Voting is seen as a way to combat these threats. People do not vote for what they want, but for what they do not want. Meanwhile, what they want remains unclear. No one seems to have a positive vision for the future—they’re determined only to avert negative outcomes. I’m more interested in understanding how these perceived threats formed in the first place, rather than suppressing them through voting against the other, which only addresses symptoms, not the cause.

Both sides’ arguments have some truth. The fascistic threat of Trump requires little explanation, especially to my friends who lean overwhelmingly toward the Democrats. What’s less clear to them is the threat that ordinary Republicans perceive. It’s not obvious because whatever the educated elites do is more sophisticated and complex—harder to articulate or diagnose. But fortunately, there’s now a tangible example we can all relate to: immigration.

Americans living closer to the border have long experienced the impact of immigration firsthand. For many liberals, immigration has mostly been an ideological issue, not a practical or existential one. Conceptually, it sounds generous and compassionate to help struggling groups, but generosity always comes with sacrifice. The burden of that sacrifice has mostly been borne by those living near the border. Texas Governor Greg Abbott forced ideological liberals to experience the reality firsthand by busing immigrants to big cities like New York. Predictably, New Yorkers didn’t simply welcome them with open arms, sacrificing their own well-being. Almost overnight, liberals became immigration realists, not willing to accommodate the endless flow of immigrants with their tax money.

This is just one example of elites throwing working-class Republicans under the bus. Even now, Democrats don’t admit to their mistakes. Because political elites, on both sides, typically hold degrees from prestigious universities, they live with the privileges that come with those brands. They are disconnected from the realities of the working class. Those feeling left behind want the “swamp drained” by an anti-establishment figure like Trump. Their discontent has reached a point where they’re willing to achieve that by any means necessary. So, how did we get here?

My sense is that most blue-collar Republicans are misdiagnosing the problem, even though their grievances are real. I attribute much of this to technological disruptions. Their negative attitude toward “Big Tech” aligns with this. Democrats, with their neoliberal economic ideologies, pushed globalization and technological advancement without considering those who don’t embrace productivity for productivity’s sake. After Hillary Clinton’s loss, neoliberalism fell out of favor, but the push for productivity never did. In debates about AI, even the anti-AI camp views increased productivity positively. But let’s apply some critical thinking here.

AI advocates argue that eliminating certain jobs, particularly blue-collar jobs that don’t require much thinking, is a good thing because it will allow people to move on to more “important” or “meaningful” jobs. But they fail to see their own bias. Just because some tasks are mindless doesn’t mean they’re unimportant or meaningless to everyone. Consider, for instance, why ceramics has become so popular in recent years. From a productivity standpoint, it’s a step backward—machines can make mugs, plates, and bowls exponentially faster and cheaper. So why are people spending so much time crafting a single mug? Part of the appeal of ceramics is the ability to empty your mind while working the clay with your hands. Many wish they could make a living doing ceramics, but the vast majority cannot because industrialization took those opportunities away. The same is true for blue-collar jobs. Just because they don’t require a college degree doesn’t mean they’re meaningless or that everyone would benefit from their elimination.

Every society needs both liberals and conservatives. We humans have limits to how fast we can adapt to change. If someone we love dies, we don’t move on the next day. It takes time to accept the loss and adjust. Likewise, we can’t adopt new technologies overnight. Some will inevitably push change faster than most can adapt, while others will push back. Both forces are necessary to maintain balance.

Conservatives naturally resist technological disruptions, and I find this reasonable. Among younger generations today, there’s a lot of nostalgia for a past they never experienced. Look at the popularity of Friends, which depicts social life before smartphones and social media, or the resurgence of vinyl records and film cameras. Why do people long for a less productive past? Even if they identify as “liberal,” their actions say otherwise. It’s clear that productivity doesn’t define what is “meaningful” for everyone. So why do we continue to assume it’s inherently good to keep increasing productivity?

Many conservative Republicans don’t value productivity over simple joys in life. Even though educated liberals may call them “stupid,” there’s nothing stupid about the meaning one finds in life, whatever that may be. Because of unconscious biases among the political elites, the lives of conservatives have been turned upside down by technological disruptions. Their discontent is understandable, and it has been brewing for decades without anyone advocating for them. Trump is simply an opportunist who understands their discontent, having himself been snubbed by elites throughout his life.

Western thinking tends to attribute social movements to leaders, but as Robert Paxton, an authority on fascism, explained in a recent New York Times article, fascism arises from the people. Leaders like Hitler are essentially followers riding the existing wave. Trump is merely a symptom. By suppressing him, we only delay a greater reckoning. We need to address the discontent brewing among millions of Americans, but our “elite” leaders are not equipped for the job. In this sense, the election is just a distraction that fuels further division.

We have to ask ourselves: do we even have democracy today? What is democracy, anyway? What exactly are both sides of the aisle supposedly trying to protect? In my view, the two key benefits of democracy are preventing the concentration of power and harnessing collective wisdom. I would argue that the real threat to democracy in America is systemic, not the actions of our political opponents.

First, pressuring people to vote for a “winnable” candidate just to suppress the opposition is a form of tyranny. It concentrates power by silencing minority voices like those of Jill Stein, Ralph Nader, and even Bernie Sanders. I find this deeply concerning because peer pressure is the primary mode of social organization in Japan, where it has historically led to grave mistakes. During World War II, for instance, Japanese soldiers, fearing ostracization, participated in atrocities, ignoring their own moral compasses. I believe a similar phenomenon occurred in Nazi Germany, a highly collectivist society where peer pressure played a significant role. In such systems, exaggerating convenient truths and suppressing inconvenient ones become necessary tactics, which leads to the demonization of opponents. This is how fascism grows among the people, and some egomaniacal figure exploits the situation to become a “leader.”

Second, the “wisdom of the crowd” fails when people vote against what they think is the wrong solution, instead of voting for what they believe is the right one. James Surowiecki’s example is based on a 1906 experiment by British scientist Francis Galton, in which a crowd guessed the weight of an ox. While individual guesses varied widely and even experts made mistakes, the average guess was nearly perfect. This collective wisdom wouldn’t work if everyone voted against what they thought was wrong; doing so would amplify errors and biases rather than bring us closer to the truth. When we vote against the wrong candidate, the factors we focus on differ from those we consider when voting for the right one, leading to a decline in candidate quality.

Ironically, democracy in America is eroding—not because of our opponents, but because of the way we believe we are defending it. If we truly care about democracy, we should focus on voting for candidates we believe in, rather than against opponents, and we should resist peer pressure in the process.

The current situation reminds me of the Twilight Zone episode “The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street,” where neighbors who once got along well begin turning on each other due to mysterious incidents no one can explain. While I don’t think space aliens are involved in our current situation, the mysterious impact of technological advancements is something we all feel. Unable to fully understand it, we turn on each other, especially on social media. Each side has become increasingly more paranoid of the other. As an outsider coming from Japan, I feel it is unfortunate that half of this great nation cannot trust the other half. The rabbit-hole effect of social media has fueled the division to the point they cannot even have a civil discussion face to face. Whether you agree with my perspective or not, I hope you understand why I’m not interested in voting.