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Electoral Systems

by John Peart on April 8, 2011 in Essay, Politics, University with No comments
electoral-systems

This piece assesses the strengths and weaknesses of proportional and majoritarian electoral systems, and was written as part of my degree. This work was a formative assignment for the ‘Introduction to Political Science’ module, GV101.

Are majoritarian or proportional electoral systems better?

Electoral systems – the set of rules that regulate competition between parties and/or candidates during elections, that decide how vote shares map to seats in parliament and indeed, how the electorate express their preferences – have traditionally fallen into two categories; majoritarian – which include Single Member Plurality (or ‘First-Past-The-Post’), the Two-Round System and Alternative Vote – or proportional – like open or closed-list PR and the Single Transferable Vote[1]. This essay will assess the consequences of each type of system, with relation to the formation of parliaments arising from each, leading to a conclusion that neither is more beneficial and in fact a third way is possible and preferable.

The debate in this field is diverse, with many scholars sitting on either side of the proverbial fence on the matter. The debate is heated and often exaggerative in nature; Lewis comments that “the surest way to kill the idea of democracy in a plural society is to adopt [...] first-past-the-post…” (1965, p. 71)[2], whilst Rokkan claims that it is “simply impossible” to make statements about the benefits of proportional electoral systems compared with majoritarian electoral systems (1970, p. 166)[3]. None-the-less, countries continue to adopt different types of electoral system in the hope of achieving the best political outcomes – but what are these outcomes, and are they a benefit to the citizens within those countries? Traditional argument tends to follow that choosing an electoral system is about an ‘opportunity cost’ or ‘trade-off’; you have to choose between parliamentary representation or government accountability, between cohesive parties or individually accountable politicians, between majority or proportional electoral systems[4]. The suggestion here is that there is a linear trade-off between these two factors and they are mutually exclusive. Of course the crux of the issue with electoral systems is not the system itself, but the types of parliament and government that form because of the electoral system. Proportional electoral systems tend to produce minority or coalition governments, which will produce a very different set of political outcomes than majoritarian systems, which tend to create single-party governments[5].

There are many perceived benefits to a proportional electoral system; representation gains are among the biggest of these. Because seats are allocated in direct proportion to the share of the vote, parliaments tend to be a microcosm of society, representing a broad range of interests, ethnic backgrounds, economic backgrounds, and so on. The principle outcome is that parliament maps, as closely as possible, the preferences of the median voter and the government that forms, usually a coalition of two or more parties, will do the same[6]; the policy outcomes therefore, are most beneficial to the greatest number of people. This breadth is not witnessed in majoritarian plurality systems; Duverger’s Law showed that majoritarian systems were far more likely to create two-party systems than proportional systems which generated multi-party races (Duverger, 1959)[7]. Having a two-party system does not necessarily mean that the preferences of the median voter are unaccounted for however, as in majoritarian systems, parties will shift towards the median voter in order to gain a larger vote share, and can be sufficiently broad to capture all of the political spectrum. The majoritarian electoral system and two-horse race can mean that representation is disproportionate in parliament, and in many cases the government can have a large overall majority even though they receive less than 50% of the vote. We see this in the UK, where with only 43.2% of the vote in 1997, the Labour party secured a landslide majority with over 63% of the seats in Parliament. Clearly under majoritarian systems, the preferences of voters are not expressed well enough.

On top of these representation benefits associated with proportional systems, there is a by-product in countries that suffer from long-running ethnic or religious conflict, like Northern Ireland, where a proportional electoral system – in this case STV – forces a power-sharing agreement in Stormont; parties have to overcome traditional religious divides and work together. With the exception of some dissident terrorist attacks, the peace accord in Northern Ireland is strong, arguably because of the choice of proportional electoral system that means citizens on both sides of the religious divide have representation within the Assembly.

There are consequences of proportional systems that might be less desirable however. Coalitions, by definition, require compromise, negotiation and debate to survive. If parliaments are formed of many small parties, rather than two large parties like in a majoritarian system, you can end up with a stalemate in government formation. Countries can go for months without a government – like in Belgium, where 200 days after their most recent election, a coalition agreement still could not be reached – but more than this, when coalitions form, they can be made of such divergent ideologies that they are incapable of agreeing on anything, with one partner vetoing the coalitions actions if the policy option is not within their ‘winset’ (Tsebelis, 2002)[8]. Policy inaction, particularly when exogenous shocks occur, is a very dangerous thing; perhaps making majoritarian systems a better option.

The principle gain from majoritarian systems is government accountability because they tend to lead to single-party government. In a proportional system, coalitions formed of several parties have very little clarity of responsibility; governments are generally formed after elections and the policy outcomes are generally very different from those in the coalition partners’ manifestos.  When these policies are implemented and effects are felt, it is very difficult to know which parties to blame and which parties to reward and so, come the next election, poorly performing parties from the coalition will likely remain in power. In effect, proportional electoral systems can serve to entrench bad government permanently. Of course, the extent to which this occurs will depend on how parties approach the coalition process. If parties are following an office-seeking theory[9], where policy will be very flexible so long as parties get in to power then the clarity of responsibility will be low; you could argue that this is exactly the situation in the UK with the current coalition government – albeit that this was formed by a majoritarian electoral system. When 80% of the electorate were against an increase in higher education tuition fees, why did the coalition, which should more accurately represent the median voter, vote to increase fees, and who, of the Liberal Democrats or the Conservatives, are voters to blame at the ballot box? At least, some would argue, under a majoritarian electoral system, you are more likely to get single party government and you are therefore, as a voter, more easily able to identify who is responsible for the policies coming from parliament. Furthermore, if the government is doing a bad job, a small shift in votes will equate to a radical shift in seat allocations in Parliament – though in countries like the UK, this means elections are fought in a minority of ‘swing seats’ and the rest of the country is not engaged fully in the electoral process, which is clearly a negative consequence. Another consequence of single party government and large seat swings is that you are even less likely to have policy that maps to the median voter; you are likely to have a skew, either to the left or right, and so again the trade off arises – do we prefer policy that maps our interest more closely – and so do we prefer proportional systems – or governments that we can attribute reward and punishment to – and so prefer majoritarian systems? Many political scientists would argue the former is preferable, notably Lijphart who argued that proportional systems were “virtually synonymous with electoral justice” (1984, p. 140)[10].

But there is a third way. Several political scientists have suggested that rather than a direct trade off between these factors that the relationship is actually able to be maximised in a way not dissimilar from that shown in  figure 1. This can be achieved by creating small multi-member constituencies (Shugart & Wattenberg, 2003)[11]. The system works because, principally, it decreases the incentive to ‘tacitically’ vote (Cox, 1997)[12], it reduces the number of people able to co-ordinate around individual candidates and allow for a broad range of elected representatives whilst still maintaining a line of accountability. Both accountability and representation are desirable in parliaments and neither a pure majoritarian system, nor a pure proportional system can provide both. A small multi-member mixed electoral system however can reduce the unrepresentativeness of parliaments by 75% and reduces the ideological distance between the median voter and the government more so, whilst it only increases the average number of parties in government by one-half and adds one large viable party to parliament, and though coalition is more likely, it only includes two or three parties at most, not the same sort of fractious and broad coalitions that we see in Belgium and Iraq. (Carey & Hix, 2010)[13]. Clearly a system that can give us the “best of both worlds” is the best option.

In conclusion, it is clear that in reality neither electoral system – majoritarian or proportional – will be better than the other, because neither give us the desired political outcomes we desire; they perpetuate the idea of a trade off. We should in fact seek a middle ground; a well designed electoral system should be able to combine the best of both worlds – high accountability and fair representation (Carey & Hix, 2010)[14]. A mixed multi-member system with low district magnitude provides this, and I would suggest to you that the middle option is the best.

[1] Clark, W. R. et al. (2009). “Principles of Comparative Politics”. Didcot: Marston Book Services Ltd. pp. 463-532.
[2] Lewis, W. A. (1965). “Politics in West Africa”. London: Allen and Unwin. pp. 71-72.
[3] Rokkan, S. (1970). “Citizens, Elections, Parties”. Oslo: Universitetsforlaget. p. 166.
[4] Lijphart, A. (1984). “Democracies: Patterns of Majoritarian and Consensus Government in Twenty-One Countries”. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.
[5] Carey, J. M. & Hix, S. (2010). “The Electoral Sweet Spot: Low-Magnitude Proportional Electoral Systems”. p. 4.
[6] Downs, A. (1957). “An Economic Theory of Democracy”. New York: Harper & Row.
[7] Duverger, M. Brogan, D. W. (ed.). (1959), “Political Parties: Their Organisation and Activity in the Modern State”. London: Methuen & Co. LTD.
[8] Tsebelis, G. (2002). “Veto Players: How Political Instituions Work”. New York: Princeton.
[9] Riker, W. H. (1962). “The Theory of Political Coalitions”. New Haven: Yale University Press.
[10] Lijphart, A. (1984). “Democracies: Patterns of Majoritarian and Consensus Government in Twenty-One Countries”. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. p. 140.
[11] Shugart, M. S. & Wattenberg, M. P. (2003), “Mixed Member Electoral Systems: The Best of Both Worlds?” Oxford: Oxford University Press.
[12] Cox, G. (1997). “Making Votes Count: Strategic Coordination in the World’s Electoral Systems”. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
[13] Carey, J. M. & Hix, S. (2010). “The Electoral Sweet Spot: Low-Magnitude Proportional Electoral Systems”.
[14] ibid, 2010. pp.

 

Absolutism

by John Peart on April 8, 2011 in Essay, University with No comments
thomas-hobbes

An assignment looking at Thomas Hobbes’ ‘Leviathan’, written as part of my degree. This work was a formative assignment for the ‘Introduction to Political Theory’ module, GV100.

Does Hobbes’ employment of natural rights take him in an absolutist direction?

In this essay, I will aim to assess the political thought of Thomas Hobbes, through analysis of his work, Leviathan. I will explain his theory of human nature, leading to his views on the natural rights of mankind and ultimately, the link he creates between this and his view that absolutism, preferably centred in a monarchy, is the best form of government. I will then attempt to analyse this reasoning, leading to a defence of his theory.

Leviathan starts with Hobbes outlining his methodology for exploring human nature, or “The Science of Nature”; by breaking down humanity and politics into their smallest possible component parts, he can explore our base motivations and look at the inter-relationships between them, drawing conclusions about the State of Nature, and ultimately, good government. Book I dismisses the Classical notion that there is an eternal good or bad; something we can grasp and obtain knowledge of in order to better ourselves in a Platonian way.

“But whatsoever is the object of any mans Appetite or Desire; that is it, which he for his part calleth Good: And the object of his Hate, and Aversion, evill; And of his contempt, Vile, and Inconsiderable. For these words of Good, evill, and Contemptible, are ever used with relation to the person that useth them: There being nothing simply and absolutely so; nor any common Rule of Good and evill, to be taken from the nature of the objects themselves; but from the Person of the man” (I, IV, p. 39)[1]

Hobbes asserts that there is no moral eternal concept of good and bad for us to grasp and to follow, but instead mere interpretation on a person-by-person, society-by-society basis. Further, he goes on in chapter VI to compound his accusation, claiming men are only moved to act by desire; “… there is nothing by Motion, or Endeavour; which consisteth of Appetite, or Aversion, to, or from the object moving.” (I, VI, p. 40)[2]. These claims lead us to a State of Nature in which men are individualistic, unsociable, and principally at Warre with one another. Hobbes says we find “three principall causes of quarrel.” (I, XIII, p. 185)[3]; Competition, Diffidence and Glory. Man is naturally competitive because of scarcity, we compete for reputation and for security, and we trust no-one incase they try to take our property or try to kill us and we are suspicious of everyone because we are all equally capable of doing harm. The State of Nature then, is almost a complete State of War.

Hobbes argues, that in the State of Nature, we have a Right of Nature:

“The RIGHT OF NATURE… is the Liberty each man hath, to use his own power, as he will himselfe, for the preservation of his own Nature; that is to say, of his own Life; and consequently, of doing any thing, which in his own Judgement, and Reason, hee shall conceive to be the aptest means thereunto.” (I, XIV, p. 86)[4]

This Right of Nature gives man unlimited right to preserve himself and makes no obligation on him to respect the rights of others to self-preservation. The Right of Nature, our unlimited Liberty and our constant fear of a painful death makes the State of Nature inherently unstable, Hobbes argues; the State of War, acting as an adjudicator over disputes, means there is no security for man and so we drive for peace (I, XIII, p. 84)[5]. This peace takes the form of a covenant between all people to form a political society in order to provide what individuals cannot provide on their own and resolve the problem of our natural condition; we create the state to provide stability and security. This entire theory is in direct contrast with Aristotle, who believed humanity was naturally drawn to political community, because it suggests an entirely self-interested motivation for politics and is based on a model of individualism.

For Hobbes the contract between the people should be an alienation contract and should pass our Liberty and our Judgement to a sovereign power – preferably a monarch:

“His Power cannot, without his consent, be Transferred to another: He cannot Forfeit it: He cannot be Accused by any of his Subjects, of Injury: He cannot be Punished by them: He is Judge of what is necessary for Peace; and Judge of Doctrines: He is Sole Legislator; and Supreme Judge of Controversies; and of the Times, and Occasions of Warre, and Peace: to him it belongeth to choose Magistrates, Counsellours, Commanders, and all other Officers, and Ministers; and to determine of Rewards, and punishments, Honour, and Order.” (I, XX, p. 132)[6]

Hobbes argues that the problem with the natural condition is that we have a right to unlimited Liberty and we can reason our actions and judge them by what is in our best interests, even when this is in conflict with others, and so in order for there to be peace, providing stability and security, and ultimately the conditions under which people are able to self-preserve without fear of a violent and painful death, there must be one final judge of the Law of Nature. Hobbes’ assertion that there is no epistemological right and wrong which we can inherently know and learn from makes this possible; someone must set the boundaries of right and wrong and if the decision is not centred in an absolute sovereign monarch, we will return to the State of Nature as we are all self-interested and will interpret the Laws of Nature to our own gain. There must be an alienation contract which allows us to give up our rights to Liberty and Judgement, because these are the very things that cause us conflict in the State of Nature. This form of governance, where law is determined purely by the Sovereign, is now commonly referred to as Hobbes’ “Command Theory” (Austin, 1832)[7]. We continue to obey the Sovereign because we formed the Leviathan and it is an extension of us but also, because we surrender our judgement to the Sovereign, we cannot challenge their decisions because they are the ones who judge – if they were subject to a higher judge, they wouldn’t be sovereign any more. Absolutism – unconditional and unified sovereign authority to which we have no right of collective resistance – and absolute sovereign power can be justified because the State of Nature is a near complete State of War, we are self-interested but seek security and stability and investing trust in an absolute Sovereign is the necessary condition for peace.

I will now assess some of the critiques of Hobbes’ work and show why Leviathan’s main thrust is correct. It is fair to say that the idea of an all powerful Leviathan has been a bone of contention for political philosophy and one of the largest areas of debate centres around political obligation – why would we obey the Sovereign and why would we centre the power in one person, when our natural condition is pushing us toward self-interest and diffidence? Hobbes’ central observation on human nature is that we all have equal ability to cause harm, however, creating the Leviathan makes all but one of us less powerful, and one significantly more powerful and able to harm us. The so-called “Grotian problem” (Grotius, 1625, 1609)[8] gives grounds to this argument because of Hobbes rejection of the individual right to secession. Because the Sovereign is the final judge, and there are no real restrictions on his power, there is no exit option and we would arguably not enter into a state where our hands were tied, especially if it meant we had no real right to protect our Right of Nature. Later contract theorists like Locke sought to address this problem with the idea of explicit and tacit consent (Locke, 1948)[9], but there are of course answers from Hobbes himself; in chapter XVIII he describes the Sovereign as a mere extension of ourselves and so the Leviathan would never act in a way that would harm the political society. More than this though, we are obligated to obey the Leviathan, not just because we are instrumental in creating it, but also because of Hobbes’ earlier claims that justice is keeping our promises despite our self-interested, egoistic motivations (Taylor, 1938)[10]. Hobbes also says that breaking the covenant would be “against the reason of [man’s] preservation” (I, XV, p. 205)[11] because he would not be accepted into any society; and so if societies that provide peace and security are ones ruled by absolute monarchy, man would be foolish to go against his only chance of guaranteed self-preservation. The contract ensures that man keeps his promise and overrides his self-interested non-compliance (Gauthier, 1988)[12]. Warrander (1957)[13] goes on to note that we obey the Sovereign because we still fear a punishment from the Sovereign, which as Hobbes’ argues is unfounded because the Sovereign would not ‘hurt itself’ as an extension of the body politic.

Aside from the obligation to follow a Sovereign, the terms of how that Sovereign should take shape is also hotly debated. Clearly, Hobbes favours a monarchy, and some political thinkers agree with this interpretation, including Goldsmith, who argued that Hobbes was correct in assuming that only in a closed system and with a single validating power can you truly get unity and peace (Goldsmith, 1980)[14]. Hart (1961)[15] and Kelsen (1945)[16] disagree however, attempting to show that it is still possible to achieve validation when there is a division of power. They believe that Hobbes has confused the need to have finality within a regime and the need to have a final human authority, arguing that a set of written rules in the form of a constitution to constrain the power of the government can have the same effect as an absolutist monarch. This is of course totally missing the point that Hobbes is making. Hobbes believed that Sovereignty had to be centred in a single person, rather than a group – or groups – governed by a set of written rules because of Judgement. In democracies, for example, where there are many people to judge, there will be conflict of interpretation, necessitating the need for a single decision making authority. That can only exist in a monarchy. Moreover, a set of written rules can never be complete enough to not need interpretation, and if there is someone that is making judgements about the Sovereign’s actions, based on an interpreted constitution, then the alleged Sovereign ceases to be a sovereign power; Hobbes defines a Sovereign as that which has power to set limits on others, but upon which no limits are placed; and as you cannot get a complete set of objective rules that govern decision making, you must have a single, human, decision maker.

I conclude then that Hobbes was correct in assuming that the employment of natural rights takes him in an absolutist direction, because unlimited Liberty causes a problem of wreckless war, that without eternal moral standards we need someone to create and impose them, and that the only way to impose this is by creating a single absolute power, meaning we treat politics in a not dissimilar fashion to the way we treat religion, except in this case the Leviathan dictates the moral laws we abide by, not a holy scripture.

[1] Hobbes, T. Tuck, R. (ed.) (1996). “Leviathan”. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
[2] ibid, 1996.
[3] ibid, 1996.
[4] ibid, 1996.
[5] ibid, 1996.
[6] ibid, 1996.
[7] Austin, J. Rumble, W. (ed.) (1995), “The Province of Jurisprudence Determined”. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. p.117
[8] Prof. Paul Kelly lecture on Hobbes and Natural Law gave a digressionary talk on what he termed “The Grotian Problem”, referencing Grotius’ works “De Jure Belli ac Pacis” (1625) and “De Jure Praedae” (1625). Kelly, P. (2011). “Hobbes and the Birth of Modern Natural Law”, [Lecture] GV100: Introduction to Political Theory. London School of Economics and Political Science, Old Theatre, December 2010.
[9] Locke, J. Gough, J. W. (ed.) (1948). “The Second Treatise of Civil Government: and a Letter Concerning Toleration”. Oxford: Blackwell.
[10] Taylor, A. E. (1938). “The Ethical Doctrine of Hobbes”. In: “Philosophy”. Vol. XIII. pp. 406 – 424.
[11] Hobbes, T. Tuck, R. (ed.) (1996). “Leviathan”. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
[12] Gauthier, D. (1988). “Hobbes’s Social Contract”. In: Rogers, G. A. J. & Ryan, A (eds.) “Perspectives on Thomas Hobbes”. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
[13] Warrander, H. (1957). “The Political Philosophy of Hobbes: His Theory of Obligation”. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
[14] Goldsmith, M. M. (1980). “Hobbe’s ‘Mortal God’: Is There a Fallacy in Hobbes’s Theory of Sovereignty?”. In: “History of Political Thought”. Vol. I. pp. 33 – 50.
[15] Hart, H. L. A. (1961). “The Concept of Law”. Oxford: Clarendon Press. pp. 97 – 107
[16] Kelsen, H. Wedberg, A. (ed.) (1945). “The General Theory of Law and the State”. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. pp. 110 – 116.

Rerum cognoscere causas

by John Peart on March 4, 2011 in The Beaver, University with No comments
beaver

“To know the causes of things”. That’s our motto and in fact it’s the core aim of the new LSE100 course that the School has launched to improve our employment prospects. The logic is that LSE graduates are very skilled in our own fields but employers don’t like our narrowly focused programmes and instead would like us to have broader skills. Thus, if you’re a first year, you now have to take part in the LSE100 course to develop your skills to “think like a social scientist”. Good idea, no?

Well, there seems to be some debate about just how good an idea it is. From the very first week, students have been complaining about the new course and its not surprising, given what the School is trying to do with it.

First and foremost, it feels a little bit like the School is attempting to teach us all the social sciences while teaching us none. While that might sound a little counter-intuitive, bear with me. Because this course is delivered to first years across 37 departments in the school – a total of 1271 students – the course has to be pitched in a way that is accessible to mathematicians and to anthropologists (Is it just me that sees an issue with that principle?). You can’t design a course that fits that many people, all who applied to the LSE with unique expectations about what they want to study. I’ve heard people saying that they feel at some points the course is like a GCSE level subject while others argue they don’t understand an ounce of what’s going on. Moreover, LSE100 counts a whole 0 per cent towards your final degree classification. So whilst you’re sat in the Peacock Theatre, you can be safe in the knowledge that this compulsory fifth module is of no consequence to everything else you do. Then the administration wonders why people are questioning the relevance of the course when not only is it pitched poorly and counts for nothing, but more than that, for most of us, the course overlaps with content already on our respective degree programmes.

Now I’m not going to just sit here writing all the things that I think are wrong with LSE100, because, for what its worth, I actually think it’s a good idea. So instead, let’s get constructive.

Firstly, if you’re going to make me sit a compulsory module, make it a core module as part of my degree programme – don’t tag it on as a fifth and expect me to care about it because it appears on my transcript. Make it worth the effort! Most, if not all students have an outside option available in their first year – swap it for LSE100.

Secondly, because you can’t teach us all at the same level, as I mentioned above, make LSE100 customized for each department so I don’t study the same content twice. In the School’s defense, they’ve given the SSLC an explanation of why the course is designed this way – mostly money and inflexibility of the School as a whole – but whilst these changes might take significant investment, students will soon be paying anywhere up to £9000 as a minimum to study at the LSE – and they should have their money invested in a course designed around them.

Thirdly, get the timing right; don’t make me sit through lectures on writing skills in our sixteenth week of the academic year! I can appreciate why the LSE has timed this module the way that it has – we don’t feel overwhelmed with work in our first term and we don’t get burdened during year two’s exam period. But seriously, giving me a lecture on essay writing – that admittedly could have been pretty useful – when I’ve already finished all my formative work this year, is a little nonsensical. I don’t know about you, but if I haven’t figured out how to write an essay by week sixteen, you may as well book me for a resit now! Of course not everyone takes qualitative subjects so these skills aren’t useful to them right now on the course, but if LSE 100 is designed to boost our skills set, boost it right at the beginning so we can hit the ground running, not 16 weeks too late.

Now I could go on, but I dare say someone will write for the Beaver either commending or condemning my comments and elongating the debate, so instead I’ll leave you on this note: LSE100 is a good idea and a potentially very useful course. But the LSE needs to get serious about this. If it doesn’t, it will be seen as a laughing stock forever more, and they wouldn’t want that – not with all the money they’ve invested in those luxury embossed folders.

The UGM

by John Peart on January 20, 2011 in LSESU, Politics, Student Movement, The Student Movement, University with No comments
ugm

Controversy struck today at the LSE SU’s Union General Meeting (UGM) as students put forward an amendment to the constitutional bye-laws. The motion, which can be found on the Students’ Union’s website, proposes that the UGM change it’s current voting format back to a “voting in person” system, which was removed under a constitutional reform package last year in favour of online voting.

YOU CAN VOTE ON THE UGM MOTION AT WWW.LSESU.COM/VOTE UNTIL 5PM ON FRIDAY 20TH JANUARY 2011

Now I’ll say this first off, until I walked in the room and started listening to the debate, I had no idea how I was going to vote. I had an instinctive feeling that this would be a bad thing to do, but couldn’t come up with any one valid reason to oppose the motion off the top of my head. As such, I was going to let it fly on by and see how it turned out (I would have probably electronically abstained to try and achieve quorum, but of course, there’s no option for that on the voting system!). Instead, a rather different thing happened. Daniel Kroop, the Postgraduate Officer for the LSE SU, opposed the motion and, for me at least, hit the nail on the head, and gave me the answers I was looking for. I decided to get off the fence and second his opposition.

There have been problems with the new voting system since it was first introduced. It isn’t very user-friendly as a piece of technology, on most occasions motions don’t achieve quorum – i.e. not enough people vote for it to be valid, and if you haven’t been to the UGM, the only thing you can see online to know how to vote is the motion itself. At the same time, UGM attendance has been decreasing on average, with the biggest UGMs only being ones where keynote speakers like the Director or the President of NUS is in attendance, so people can have a crack at authority bashing (For the hacks out there, thats normal person speak for accountability). Legitimate concerns therefore have been raised about the future of the UGM and the legitimacy of that sacred institution that LSE SU prides itself on. We’re the only students’ union in the whole of the UK that holds a weekly general meeting, don’t you know?!

And this of course leads to the question of causality. What caused a highly politicised campus, that has been engaging in SU campaigns in their thousands, to desert one of the ways it can control the direction of its students’ union? Clearly the proposers believe this is due to the change in voting system, and of course the logical solution to that is to change it back. Or is it?

I ask the question whether the UGM is poorly attended because people can’t vote at it, or because they don’t care about the motions being put forward; whether it’s because they can’t vote there, or because it’s an inaccessible monolith, filled with the same old hacks week in, week out; whether it’s because they can’t vote there, or because they find other ways to engage with and shape the students’ union; whether it’s because they can’t vote there, or because they simply don’t know it exists?

Now I don’t have the answer to those questions, and neither will the proposers of this motion. What I can tell you, is that as a member of NUS’ National Executive, I go to students’ unions, and I go to general meetings all across the country on a pretty regular basis, and all of them are struggling with the same question: why don’t people turn up to make their voice heard?

Most of them come to the conclusion its because students’ unions are too inward facing, don’t reach out to their members enough, and need to try harder to involve those hard to reach groups. And here comes the main reasons I decided to oppose the motion. It isn’t a broken voting system we need to deal with, its a broken culture at the LSE.

If you want people to vote for your motions, it will and it should take more than a 2 minute speech and 1 minute rebuttal in a room of 150 people. A students’ union can and should be about transforming students’ lives, but its their job to engage them in the way they want to be engaged. And I’m sorry, but a one hour meeting every Thursday is not an accessible way to engage the majority of students at our university. 4% of our students are part-time students, likely with working responsibilities outside university, you can’t expect them to have a voice with an “at UGM” vote. Some students at our university have parental and caring responsibilities, you can’t give them a voice with an “at UGM” vote. Some students aren’t fortunate enough to not need to work to supplement their studies… I could go on, but you get the idea. Online voting might not be perfect, but at least it gives everyone the opportunity to voice their opinion.

Not only that, the new constitution is all about widening the reach of the SU beyond the four walls of the Old Theatre. Assemblies might not be well attended, but they are there, and do we blame low attendance on the voting system, or because we’re getting something wrong as a student body making sure people turn up to them? And its precisely these structures that are meant to support students to have a voice.

In the long run, we need to stop considering whether we want to protect our traditions and start thinking about the people this actually matters to, and that’s the students that currently don’t have a look in; not because they choose not to turn up to UGM, but because they don’t know anything about the democratic processes of the SU or we’re having the wrong conversation with them. It’s easy to blame our failings on structures when in fact the problem lies much deeper and is embedded in the very fabric of our institution. People don’t engage with the students’ union’s democracy because they don’t know about it or its not accessible, not because they of the voting system.

In sum, and to use a timely analogy right now, it’s useless swapping the taps on the bath when your entire plumbing system isn’t working – you won’t get any more water.

I have written on the challenges of student engagement previously, after delivering keynote speeches to the DCQE at University of Portsmouth and QSN’s Student Engagement Symposium. You can read the articles here: