In this political season we are hearing and reading a lot of political opinions by well-known commentators and by some number of “reporters” (who are proving that they are either incompetent or corrupt, or both). Increasing depths of emotion shown by certain on-air talent, and segments of the web log community, piques one’s curiosity. The existence of the old political-correctness edict of “never discuss sex, politics or religion” indicates that this emotional phenomenon is long-recognized. The ordering of “politics” ahead of “religion” in the edict shows that the subject of politics may evoke every bit as much emotional outpouring as religion (we’ll leave “sex” for another posting).
But there have been almost no discussions about the similarity of religious faith and faith in government systems. One definition of “faith” could be: a deep-seated belief in something, despite its lack of scientific proof or preponderance of unambiguous evidence. For example, many of us who believe in God will readily admit that we can neither prove that God exists nor prove that God does not exist. Similarly, those of us who believe in a democratic form of government which offers almost unlimited personal and economic freedom can still have difficulty in coming up with a quantifiable measure of the superiority of that form of government.
We seem to be reduced to looking at long-term trends, comparing anecdotes, and similar less-scientific approaches. On the religious side, if we had the courage to do so, we could ask a large number of individuals why each is a Christian, a Jew, a Hindu, a Muslim, etc. I seriously doubt that we would learn very much from such an exercise (and we would run the risk of angering some number of our interviewees). Even if we tried a less broad range, asking Christians why they are Catholic, Lutheran, Methodist, Baptist, etc., the results would likely be the same.
For governments, the easier poll would be to investigate political party affiliation, as an indication of the individual’s preferred form of government. Here, too, it’s likely to be somewhat awkward or dangerous to ask a U. S. citizen why he or she is a registered member of a recognized political party, a follower of a lesser political movement, or politically unaffiliated. Even if we are successful in learning what party a person belongs to, we must keep in mind that we still have only an inference of that person’s belief in a form of government.
However, one thing we do learn, usually fairly quickly, when discussing a person’s political affiliation is how deep political belief and commitment to the party can be. The individual’s explanation of why is only occasionally convincing or fulfilling. Most of us—at least those curious enough or foolish enough to engage in such a discussion—become familiar over time with the limited number of responses we can expect.
One list of reasons for initial political party selection, or continued affiliation, is:
- Cultural / community tradition
- Family tradition
- Overwhelming single-issue concern
- Personal animosity against current or former politician(s)
- Perceived permanent position in economic class
- Occupational association with political party
- Political apathy or indifference
- Other
Although this list can be illuminating, it is not completely satisfying. What percentage of registered voters fall into each category? Do a significant number of people in the same category choose different political parties? What about variations by age, gender, occupation, education, economic status, etc.? Although it leaves us wanting more information, this list may be useful at some point.
We can find quite a number of articulate descriptions of how specific individuals have evolved from one position of religious faith to another, e.g., author and college professor C. S. Lewis’ journey from intellectual atheist to faithful Christian. However, thoughtful accounts of changes from one political belief to another are more difficult to find.
Among the more interesting and believable insights into evolving political philosophy is that of the author Nevil Shute (“On The Beach”, “A Town Like Alice”, etc.). He lived in England through World War I, the economic boom of the 1920s, the recession of the 1930s, World War II, and the decline of Britain under the post-war Socialist government, before emigrating to Australia. Nevil Shute’s change in political outlook is reflected in his novel, “In the Wet”, in which he describes an electoral reform that dramatically improves national government.
One category of political allegiance is only too abundant: irrational diatribes against the authors’ most-reviled ogres as “reasons” for selecting one political party or one form of government over others. These anecdotes do serve to remind us that a segment of our population really is “strange”, “unbalanced”, or “malicious”. Curiously, I think the weirdos would be categorized as Other (above), the same as would real people who made an effort to be informed and took their party affiliation choice seriously.
One recent study does give us a slight hint about political motivation. It turns out that politically conservative people donate significantly more to charity than do politically-liberal people. Authors of the study noted that conservatives tended to have a number of “absolutes” in their belief systems whereas liberals liberals tended to see everything in life as relative. But, like many studies, this one leaves us wanting more information.
In summary, we really don’t know very much when it comes to why people believe in one form of government or another, and we don’t know much more about why they affiliate with one political party or another. It seems certain that only a few put forth much effort in making a political party selection—either initially or thereafter. But we can remain content in the knowledge that people generally make only two important votes: when they vote with their wallets, and when they vote with their feet.
