In 2014, Scotland had a referendum on secession from the United Kingdom. The process was an exemplar of democracy. The country was evenly divided between the proponents and opponents of the schism. In the end, the Scots voted 55% to 45% to remain part of the UK. The voter turnout was 85%.
In this election, the issue was clear, the decision straightforward and the significance paramount. There was only the single question on the ballot. Choosing whether Scotland was to be an independent country or, alternatively, was to maintain its 300-year old affiliation with its neighbors, was not a decision to be taken lightly. This referendum was in fact an exercise in democracy worthy of praise. Vigorous public debate. No tanks in the street; no violence of any consequence. Both sides were bound to abide by the vote and both sides did so. Up for consideration was an existential question with broad implications for the cultural, political and economic nature of Scotland. All this was peacefully settled by democratic means.
This Scottish election, with a clear yes or no choice on a critical issue, was a far cry from your run-of-the-mill US election with dozens of votes to be cast on candidates, initiatives, referenda, bond issues, tax measures and advisory measures. Many of these votes involve complicated arguments, often enigmatized by proponents with a clear self-interest. Ballot decisions range from the profound to the perfunctory. Ballots may be long and confusing. To do a proper job of voting takes time and involvement.
It is rare that an election is decided by one vote, but for every voter, the results do matter. The world is different because Donald Trump was elected President and Hillary Clinton was not. It is different because a bond issue for the local schools passed or failed. It is different when a referendum on same-sex marriage wins or loses. Your vote doesn’t decide an election but it does matter. However, while every vote is worth serious consideration, to think that one’s vote would or should be decisive is more than just silly, it is arrogant.
In most elections of consequence, there are campaigns to get out the vote. In political circles, everyone knows what GOTV means. These efforts fall into two categories. First, partisans who support a candidate or an issue will try to identify their supporters and make sure that they vote. These are efforts aimed at winning a specific election. They are a legitimate part of the electoral process. If you feel strongly about something on the ballot, then of course you wpuld try to have others see you point and vote your way.
In addition to partisan efforts to get supporters to the polls, however, there are generalized efforts to get people to vote because it is their civic duty to do so or simply because it is good for society. These efforts are arguably misguided. If people have neither the interest, initiative nor inclination to vote, why should they be encouraged to do so? To the contrary, maybe they should be encouraged to stay home. Because the issues are complicated and the result consequential, the last thing the polity needs is misinformed and uninformed participants voting willy-nilly on matters of importance to our lives. Voters are deciding what we do as a community, who makes the rules, and who has to pay for it. We do not need do-gooders driving know-nothings to the polls to randomly flick the levers of democracy.
Undeniably, there have in the past been blatant efforts at voter suppression. At this point in history, limiting the franchise to white men who own property is unthinkable. Likewise, no one would condone the use of literacy tests or shotguns to prevent certain minorities from voting. Voter identification is probably not a terrible idea, but it is largely unnecessary and probably ill-advised. Voter fraud is not widespread and there is some nasty history associated with compulsory identification documents.
What limits to voting might be acceptable? There is no reason or interest to revisit gender discrimination in voting. The other significant twentieth century expansion of the franchise, however, was to lower the age of eligibility from twenty-one to eighteen. This was promoted with the claim that one old enough to fight is old enough to vote. This argument smacks of fairness, but soldiering and voting are largely unrelated. Eighteen-year old humans constitute an ideal labor pool for the military. They are mostly fully grown and pushing the peak of their physical prowess. Maybe more importantly, their brains are not totally developed making them more adaptable to military life than would be older recruits. (It has been suggested that one way to end all war would be to set the minimum age for a soldier at fifty.)
That eighteen is a viable age for the army does not mean youth of this age have the maturity one would hope for in a voter. Clearly some do, but most don’t. Eighteen- to twenty-year olds vote in notably lower proportion than their elders. They are disproportionately not attracted to the process and they do not seem to care enough to exercise their ill-conceived franchise.
One might logically argue that there are voter qualifications should be imposed but nothing so subjective and so easily manipulated would likely pass muster. Universal suffrage allows fools, idiots and bigots to vote but that is just the nature of the beast. Limiting the franchise, even for defensible reasons, would be a classic slippery slope. And so even the immature, the morons and the voluntarily ignorant get to vote. Thankfully they pretty much choose not to do so.
In an ideal world, voters would be well-informed and their votes well considered. Why would one want to encourage those disinclined to vote to do so? If they cared – and if they thought things were so dystopian, they would care — they would do their homework and opt to vote. Since they do not care enough to vote, leave them alone and let them stay home on election day.