It is true, nevertheless, that the simple juxtaposition of political rights and citizenship does not satisfactorily reveal the complexity of democratic action; above all, it does not manage to throw full light on the spatial prism of democracy, where, in particular, participative behav- iours from the bottom can be observed of individu- als operating within specific territorial areas (especially within the urban dimension), even if they do not organi- cally and legally possess the status of citizens of that spe- cific territory. Indeed, if we begin with this remark, the participatory forms with the highest rate of inclusiveness, abandoning the term citizen in favour of that of stake- holder, manage to embrace anyone who has an interest at stake, i.e. all those who depend on the policies in place on a territory, though they are not citizens of it. Observed from this bottom-up perspective, those individuals that live on the territory without being residents or having legal citizenship also produce participative potential. Commuters, who work in the city though they do not live there, city users, who neither work nor reside within urban boundaries but use the city for cultural, economic and social consumerism and, finally, migrants, all come under the first type. All these categories are highly influ- enced by the choices made at a local level for a variety of public policies, of which policies for security and pub- lic order are one of the cornerstones. In brief, they are stakeholders who, through participative forms able to include their voice, aim at re-equilibrating their position compared with the privileged categories of the third gen- eration metropolises: the citizen-inhabitants, who have access as such to the multiple electoral circuits of differ- ent territorial levels, and the metropolitan businessmen, who thanks to their own resources can affect urban poli- cies by lobbying or by their involvement in the local con- sultation arenas.
The TransMilenio system has not been fully imple- mented yet. As of September 2016 (Fig. 3), the net- work was composed of 12 trunks and was extended for 113 km, with 147 stops; the service had a commercial speed of 26 km/h, and the daily passengers were approxi- mately 2,4 million (TransMilenio 2016). However, the TransMilenio was not simply intended to improve urban mobility issues. According to the mayor Peñalosa, the TransMilenio was supposed to be “the place where the vice-president of a large corporation or the doorman of a building would feel good. A place where they would meet as equals in an environment that respected human dig- nity” (Ardila-Gómez 2004, p. 332). In Peñalosa’s vision, the construction of the BRT network contributed to a more democratic urban space: “the TransMilenio sys- tem built ‘democracy’ into the urban fabric because the system is citywide and buses are symbols of equality” (Cesafsky 2017, p. 15). The TransMilenio was then con- ceived not as a modal alternative exclusively for the poor or the rich, but rather as an opportunity for social inclu- sion, within a wider strategy of urban regeneration. The system intervened on the quality of public transport ser- vice, put forward the idea of everyday mobility as a key element for a more democratic access to the city, and contributed to an overall improvement of the image of Bogotá. However, several components determine how TransMilenio contributes to an improved urban access, as the next section explains.
Although Held (1995) raises the idea of one world government, several other scholars have put forward alternatives to achieve a cosmopolitan democracy. One of those alternatives is governance through the city. Today, over fifty percent of the world’s population lives in cities, a percentage that will only increase over the next couple of decades (Barber, 2013). Due to the high density of citizens in cities, issues such as climate change, terrorism and migration have a huge impact on cities. As a result, the city is increasingly becoming an important political actor on the world stage (Van der Pluijm & Melissen, 2009). Introducing the term ‘global city’, Sassen (2001) was one of the first to write about the growing influence of the city in international relations. Sassen states that cities constitute the place where globalization materializes, combining global flows of money, information and people through transnational networks of cities. She therefore argues that “the city is a far more concrete space for politics than the nation” (Sassen, 2004, p. 655).
While certainly there are many contradictory discourses and problematic practices to be found at each site, rather than advocate change from the top down, I suggest that majority-white community arts organizations focus on their daily rituals. This suggestion is limited neither to majority-white organizations nor community arts organizations, of course, but in my countless hours of participation among well-meaning white people, it is noteworthy that saying, not doing, seemed to be the currency of each organization. That may be a practice of particular groups of class-privileged, highly educated white people (as well as people of color), the tendency to turn any group process into a graduate school seminar—but if it is an aspect of “white culture,” it is one that can be changed, possibly to dramatic results. Critiques of deliberative democracy (Kohn 2002; Ryfe, 2005) focus on the difficulty of talk-based public process. Polletta and Lee (2006) identify a central paradox of public conversation: personal narrative is valued for its persuasive and humane values even as those who value this type of communication believe that it is not effective at a policy level because of its emotional tenor. Other social critics argue that many attempts at “public conversation” simply serve the interests of elite groups, and that citizen voices are generally left out of the conversations. Ryfe (2005) suggests
governance. Nevertheless, there have recently been a variety of encouraging efforts to make scientific activity more responsive to social values and to develop citizens’ capacity to engage in more effective democratic governance of science. This essay introduces a special issue of the Kennedy Institute of Ethics Journal on “Science, Expertise, and Democracy,” consisting of five papers that developed from the inaugural Three Rivers Philosophy (TRiP) conference held at the University of South Carolina in April 2011. The pieces range from a general analysis of the in-principle compatibility of scientific expertise and democracy to much more concrete studies of the intersection between scientific practices and democratic values in areas such as weight-of-evidence analysis, climate science, and studies of locally undesirable land uses (LULUs).
This book takes us some considerable distance further in critically rejuvenating this subject and analysing the seeming paradox that there appears to be more ‘participation’ than ever in the contemporary workplace but that it is producing less and less real ‘democracy’. The key for future theoretical work in this area, as Harley et al.’s introduction stresses, is the need to take account of the actors forming the prime movers for any instance of participation, their interests in doing so, and the context in which they are doing it. Recently, the main impetus has come from employers, keen to improve motivation and extract employee know-how within the current confines of power relations in the workplace, and from the state, which – as Harley et al. point out (p. 14) – needs to bring forward measures to promote its own legitimacy to a greater extent than does management. The omens for a new era of critical research into worker participation now appear more promising than they have done for some time. The EU- imposed resurrection of representative participation as a result of the EWC and ICE Directives sets us off into unknown territory, particularly in relation to the synergies or frictions with unionised forms of employee representation that may result. Overlaying this, recent evidence suggests the existence of generally low levels of job satisfaction in the high pressure twenty-first century workplace that have not been significantly mollified by such opportunities for participation present to date (Green and Tsitsianis, 2005). Assuming workers conclude that continued organisational ‘voice’ is preferable to the resigned silence of ‘exit’, worker demands for more meaningful opportunities for intervention in organisational decision-making are indeed possible. Harley et al. and their contributors have done us a considerable service in reasserting the salience of this topic of enquiry and emphasising its complexity. Hopefully, it will provide the inspiration over the next few years for renewed critical scholarship of the increasing variety of employee voice mechanisms now becoming available.
This is not the case, however, for the Montonen-Olive duality and its gen- eralization. As we have seen in Section 2.2.3, all particles – ‘electric’ charges, ‘magnetic’ charges, dyons – exist on an equal footing in the complete quantum theory. In this sense, they all are equally ‘fundamental’ from an ontological point of view. What the duality specifically implies, here, regards not mutual composition of the particles as rather their different modes of appearance when considering the different classical limits of the quantum theory, i.e. the dual perspectives. As seen, the particles interchangeably play the role of Noether charges or topological charges depending on the perspective under which the theory is considered. The democracy associated with the duality results from this kind of modality in their appearance: we could say that it is a “represen- tational” or “functional” democracy, rather than an ontological one. 55
Dewey’s challenge to a traditional or liberal view of democ- racy, in Democracy and Education (1916), is usually contrasted as participatory. Where liberal democracy could be oversimplified as a state of maximum freedom from government interference and freedom to pursue individual desires, participatory democracy requires an engaged citizenry, working across communities of difference to examine and revise social arrangements. This is in keeping with a pragmatic, evolutionary view of social life as continually changing and adapting. But as a moral way of being, democracy means recognizing social interdependency and working to safeguard social responsibility. Our understanding of participatory democracy also includes what Parker called “associa- tive democracy” (Parker, 1996). According to Dewey (1966/1916), a democratic society has two requirements: (a) it is composed of groups with many and varied interests that are consciously communicated; (b) there are varied and free points of contact with other groups, open relationships, where what is healthy are those relationships that foster more future interactions, not fewer. This conception sees democracy as a mode of associated living, an unfinished process, a “lived social phenomenon” (Ross, 2014, p. 152), which is “much broader than any particular view of political democracy” (Thayer- Bacon, 2006, p. 21). It reflects Dewey’s idea of human interdependency, where a healthy society, like a healthy individual, depends on face- to- face interactions. Parker (1996) and others have gone further, to associate the term democratic with pluralism in reference to the vital importance of diversity— of ideas, of experiences— to a healthy democracy. While we also see
deontological terms) could do great harm? Perhaps the manager of a democratic nonprofit committed to feeding malnourished developing-world children is faced with a situation where acting autocratically would likely fulfil their mission and save more lives, whereas through deontological grounds, it could be argued the manager’s moral duty is consulting other organizational member. We therefore have competing duties: the duty to consult other equal members democratically on important decisions and a duty to save as many lives as we can. Kant (1785) claimed that “a conflict of duties is inconceivable”, there will always be a duty which we are clearly more obligated to follow. However, in a situation where children’s lives are (potentially?) at risk, and our (definite) commitment to democratic organizing is also at risk, it is perhaps not such a simple choice. This points towards a final potential issue with the deontological justification, where the manager of the NPO exaggerates or omits information to make certain duties more primary than others i.e. “I had to bypass the democratic process, we had a moral duty to those children”. It is at this point that our commitment to justifying workplace democracy through deontological means is potentially tested a step too far. It may even lead to a slip back into consequentialism as we debate outcomes based upon actions rather than moral duties.
Academics have largely agreed that democracy is the preferred political system (Ottoway, 2009; Ohlson & Kovacs, 2009). This sentiment is also reflected outside the academic sphere, as recent studies have shown broad support for democratic systems and liberal values, among individuals globally (Pew Research Center, 2015, 2017). During post-conflict democratization, international actors must find a balance between countering possible resentment from locals and establishing a workable and efficient political framework (von Bogdandy et. al., 2005, p. 596). However, in the case of Bosnia neither of these were goals were met with full success, resulting in the perception of widespread corruption, eroding the legitimacy of the established institutions.
Lippmann thought current conceptions of democracy asked too much of the average citizen: “Man’s history being what it is, political opinion on the scale of the Great Society requires an amount of selfless equanimity rarely attainable for anyone for any length of time” (Lippmann 1922, 36). Lippmann is not only concerned with the issue of time, but also with how the public utilizes what little time they devote to public affairs. He cites three studies from the early twentieth century that found that the average citizen spends little more than fifteen minutes per day reading the paper. Lippmann is hesitant to base too much on the findings of these studies, because he acknowledges there are other sources people turn to for information (magazines, etc). He does, however, acknowledge that “the time each day is small when any of us is directly exposed to information from our unseen environment” (Lippmann 1922, 40).
According to Mill, democracy ends up becoming a government of the masses with prerogatives, in detriment of the minorities. In simple terms, what determines its nature which is the representation of the different ways of conceiving power and society, which transforms into a dictatorship of the masses. There is no less injustice because minorities suffer it. For Mill the concept of the majority is a mentis that does not necessarily express the feelings and purposes of the electors. The minorities ought to be properly represented; on the contrary it is no more than a false democracy. Stuart Mill (1862) assumes the electoral reform proposal presented by Mr. Hare in a text titled “Treatise on the Election of representatives”, whose thesis is that of establishing a national representation and not a local one: “the votes would, as a present, be given locally; but any elector would be at liberty to vote for any candidate in whatever part of the country he might offer himself” (p. 140).
universality. Democracy is a political institution – or, more accurately, a family of sets of political institutions – that has evolved over time and, who knows, that may further evolve in the future or even disappear completely. So if there is to be a human right to democracy at all, it can only be a right that is relative to specific historical circumstances. But once this point is accepted, the question whether the relevant historical circumstances currently obtain internationally is once again wide open. The moral case for a human right to democracy thus doesn’t seem to achieve that much.
The structure of Indian administration was said to be a steel framework since there was no scope for popular participation though the beginnings of Democ- racy had been made in 1919 by the introduction of Diarchy in India. Secondly, though Indian Constitutional system establishes political democracy, it does not encourage democratic administration. Lord Bryce had compared Indian admin- istration to Plato’s Philosopher King. The Scheme of “Democratic Decentraliza- tion” has been called neither democratic nor decentralization as evidenced from the Constitution of the local bodies at various levels. All Democracies need in- tensity of politics and in India, there is a tendency to minimize it. The thinking organs of the Political Parties have to be mobilized in order to reflect public concern about it. The elected representatives do not possess the qualities of comprehensiveness and objectivity about it. As regards decentralization, central controls, supervision and direction were strong in system. A over burdened cen- tre has started spreading the burden more evenly throughout the nation. It enables the large reserves of human energy and ability which might otherwise remain dormant and unused to participate in the administration of Welfare pol- icies. A good State of its health requires freedom from Parliamentary interfe- rence. Local authorities must be free from the suicidal consequences of their well-known devotion to the divine right of things as they are.
Secondly, largely because the effect of regime type was not the primary focus of the majority of the studies review above, the question of how democracy is best measured is not addressed in this literature. The Freedom House and Polity indices, which have been the preferred measures in this literature, have been widely criticized (see, for example, Gleditsch and Ward 1997; Cheibub, Gandhi and Veerland 2010). These continuous scale measures have been condemned for conflating important differences between regime types. For example, Gleditsch and Ward (1997, p.380) argue that “vastly different temporal, spatial, and social contexts support the same autocracy scale value”. Critics of these measures propose categorical measures, which group countries into categories such as democracy/autocracy as the alternative. However, it can be argued that categorical measures of regime type equally obscure important information. Categorizing countries into either democracies or autocracies implicitly assumes that all democracies/autocracies are equal. It seems reasonable to argue that some democracies are more democratic than others, etc. In addition the question arises of how many categories regimes should be classified into. While Cheibub et al. (2010) propose a dichotomous measure, research on democracies and dictatorships has found that so-called anocracies/hybrid regimes/semi-democracies behave differently from both full democracies and autocracies. Moreover, empirical studies have found that the inclusion of a third middle category makes a significant difference for results (see, for example, Epstein, Bates, Goldstone, Kristensen and O'Halloran 2006). In this paper, I address the question of choice of measure by using two types of measures: a discrete ordinal variable (Polity IV) and a categorical measure (PRC).
Where these defenses of democracy go wrong, according to Achen and Bartels, is in their commitment to the “folk theory” of democracy. The folk theory “celebrates the wisdom of popular judgments by informed and engaged citizens” (9) and, crucial- ly (since we would all presumably want to celebrate such a thing), it postulates that many of us in fact resemble such citizens. In Achen and Bartels’s telling, this theory lies behind a certain populist ideal in democratic theory and practice, which seeks to maximize the role of the public in policy making, including through referenda. The problem, the authors suggest, is that the empirical track record of attempts to imple- ment this ideal reveals “a mishmash of heightened responsiveness to popular impuls- es, behind-the-scenes elite influence, and self-defeating choices stemming from the limited political expertise and attention of ordinary citizens” (86).
Owing to the relatively undeveloped state of African economies, democracies lend themselves to popular demands for immediate consumption at the expense of profitable investments for financial development. By the same token democracies could be prone to conflicts resulting from social, ethnic and class struggles that retard financial intermediary activities due to instability. In summary, democracy in the African continent presents a potential risk to financial development because it may be open to pressures from interest groups (Olson, 1982). On the contrary authoritarian regimes in Africa suppress conflicts, resist sectional interests and take coercive measures for rapid financial intermediary development. Our results on financial depth and activity confirm the findings of Rao (1984) who postulated that authoritarian regimes orchestrate economic growth by sacrificing current consumption for investment, which makes them rather effective at mobilizing savings. Mobilized savings is a direct source of liquid liabilities and growth in money supply. Most African democracies are dysfunctional and thus rampant local capture and competition for rents seriously undermines the development of the financial sector. Conversely, authoritarian regimes with political centralization reduce both the risk of capture and the scope of competition for rents by local governments. In financial development policies in the continent, authoritarian regimes could better orchestrate mechanisms for effective mobilization of savings for investment.
With these terms in place, we can now address the question: what is the relationship between democratic legitimacy and epistemic considerations? We can distinguish between two main approaches. According to the first, democratic legitimacy is independent of epistemic considerations and is established on grounds of the moral values embodied by democracy. That’s the deep proceduralist scenario I mentioned earlier. Alternatively, epistemic considerations are at least one factor in the determination of legitimate practical authority. This is the approach epistemic democrats take. The main focus of my paper is on the question how epistemic considerations should be brought to bear on the justification of practical political authority. In the next section, I will criticize the instrumentalist way of characterizing the relationship between epistemic considerations and the legitimate practical authority of democracy. In the rest of the paper, I will propose an alternative – proceduralist – way of characterizing this relationship.