Part II: Chapter III, 3

Returning, then, to original simple democracy, we find the true starting point for government on a large scale. It cannot expand because its form is inconvenient, not because its principle is unsound; monarchy and aristocracy cannot expand because they lack the capacity. If we retain democracy as our foundation and reject the corrupt systems of monarchy and aristocracy, the representative system emerges naturally. It remedies at once the defects in the form of simple democracy and the other two systems' lack of knowledge.

Simple democracy was society governing itself without any intermediate means. By grafting representation onto democracy, we obtain a system of government able to embrace and unite every variety of interest, and any extent of territory and population. Its advantages over hereditary government are as great as those of the republic of letters over hereditary literature.

This is the system on which the American government rests: representation grafted onto democracy. It gives the form a scale that in every case matches the reach of its principle. What Athens was on a small scale, America will be on a great one. Athens was the wonder of the ancient world; America is becoming the admiration of the present. Of all forms of government, this is the easiest to understand and the most desirable in practice. It excludes at once the ignorance and insecurity of heredity and the inconvenience of simple democracy.

It is impossible to imagine a system of government able to act over so broad a territory and so wide a range of interests as representation immediately makes possible. Even France, large and populous as it is, occupies but a small place within the system's capacity. Representation is preferable to simple democracy even in small territories. With representation, Athens would have surpassed her own democracy.

What we call government—or rather what government ought to be—is no more than a common center in which every part of society comes together. No method serves the community's various interests as well as representation in accomplishing this. It gathers together the knowledge needed to serve the parts and the whole. It keeps government in a state of constant maturity. As I have already observed, it is never young and never old. Neither childhood nor senility can overtake it. It is never in the cradle or on crutches. It allows no division between knowledge and power; and, as government always should, it rises above all the accidents that befall individuals. It is therefore superior to what is called monarchy.

A nation is not a body whose shape can be pictured as a human body. It is rather like a body enclosed by a circle, with a common center where every radius meets; representation forms that center. To join representation to what is called monarchy is to make government eccentric. Representation is itself the delegated monarchy of a nation, and cannot lower itself by sharing that authority with another.

Two or three times in his parliamentary speeches and publications, Mr. Burke has used a jingle of words that communicates no thought. Speaking of government, he says, “It is better to have monarchy for its basis, and republicanism for its corrective, than republicanism for its basis, and monarchy for its corrective.”—If he means it is better to correct folly with wisdom than wisdom with folly, I shall dispute with him only this far: it would be better still to reject the folly altogether.

But what is this thing Mr. Burke calls monarchy? Will he explain it? Anyone can understand representation, and see that it must encompass varied knowledge and talents. But what guarantees those qualities in a monarchy? When the monarch is a child, where is the wisdom then? What does that child know of governing? Who, then, is the monarch, and where is the monarchy? If a regency must do its work, monarchy proves a farce. A regency is a counterfeit kind of republic; the whole of monarchy deserves no better name. It takes as many shapes as imagination can invent. It has none of the stable character government ought to possess. Each succession is a revolution; each regency a counterrevolution. The whole affair is a perpetual spectacle of court cabals and intrigue, of which Mr. Burke is himself an example. To reconcile monarchy with government, the next in succession would have to be born not a child but a grown man, and that man would have to be Solomon. It is ridiculous for nations to wait, and government to be interrupted, while boys grow into men.

Whether I have too little understanding to see, or too much to be deceived; whether I have too much pride or too little, or too much or too little of anything else, I leave aside. What is certain is that what is called monarchy always strikes me as a foolish, contemptible thing. I liken it to something kept behind a curtain, attended by great bustle and fuss and a marvelous air of solemnity. But when by chance the curtain opens and the assembled company sees what is there, they burst out laughing.

Nothing like this can happen under representative government. Like the nation itself, it possesses an enduring strength of body and mind; it stands openly before the world, honestly and with dignity. Its merits and faults alike are visible to everyone. It does not live by fraud and mystery or trade in cant and sophistry. Instead it inspires a language that travels from heart to heart, felt and understood.

We must shut our eyes to reason and shamefully degrade our understanding not to see the folly of what is called monarchy. Nature works in an orderly way in all things, but this mode of government works against nature. It overturns the development of human powers. It subjects the mature to the rule of children, and wisdom to the rule of folly.

The representative system, by contrast, always runs parallel to nature's order and unchanging laws, and answers to human reason at every point. For example:

In the American Federal Government, more power is delegated to the President of the United States than to any other individual member of Congress. Accordingly, no one may be elected to that office under the age of thirty-five years. By then a person's judgment has grown more mature, and he has lived long enough to know people, affairs, and the country, and to be known by the country.—But under the monarchical plan (quite apart from the many odds against anyone born into the world winning a prize in the lottery of human faculties), the next in line, whoever he may be, is placed at the head of a nation and its government at the age of eighteen years. Does that look like an act of wisdom? Does it accord with a nation's proper dignity and mature character? What sense is there in calling such a boy the father of the people?—In every other matter, a person is a minor until the age of twenty-one years. Before that age he cannot be trusted to manage an acre of land, or inherited ownership of a flock of sheep or a herd of swine; yet, astonishingly, at eighteen years he may be entrusted with a nation.

That monarchy is a bubble, a mere court device for obtaining money, is evident—at least to me—from every angle. Under the rational system of representative government it would be impossible to run up a bill of expenses on the enormous scale that this deception permits. Government is not intrinsically a very costly institution. The entire expense of America's federal government, founded as I have said on representation and spanning a country nearly ten times as large as England, is only six hundred thousand dollars, or one hundred and thirty-five thousand pounds sterling.

I trust that no one in his right mind will compare the character of any European king with that of General Washington. Yet in France, as in England, the expense of the civil list alone, to support one man, is eight times greater than the entire expense of America's federal government. It is almost impossible to give a reason for this. Most Americans, especially the poor, are better able to pay taxes than most people in France or England.

The fact is that representation spreads so much knowledge of government throughout a nation that ignorance is driven out and deceit prevented. The tricks of courts cannot be practiced on such ground. There is no room for mystery, nowhere for it to take hold. People outside the representative body understand the nature of its business as well as those within it. Any pretense to mysterious importance would be scorned there. Nations can have no secrets; the secrets of courts, like those of individuals, are always their faults.

Under representative government, the reasons for every action must be public. Each person has a stake in government and considers it part of his own business to understand it. His interest is involved because his property is affected. He weighs the costs against the benefits; above all, he refuses the servile habit of following those whom other governments call Leaders.

Excessive revenues can be obtained only by blinding people's understanding and persuading them that government is something marvelous and mysterious. Monarchy is admirably suited to this purpose. It is the popery of government: a contrivance maintained to entertain the ignorant and lull them into paying taxes.

The government of a free country, properly speaking, resides not in persons but in laws. Enacting those laws costs little; once they are administered, the whole business of civil government is done. Everything else is a contrivance of courts.

If we go back to simple democracy, it gives us the right starting point for government on a large scale. It cannot expand because of problems with its structure, not its principle. Monarchy and aristocracy cannot do the job because they lack the ability. So we can keep democracy as the foundation and reject the corrupt systems of monarchy and aristocracy. Representative government then offers the natural solution. It fixes the structural problems of simple democracy while also fixing the other two systems' lack of knowledge.

Under simple democracy, society governed itself without any intermediate method. Add representation to democracy, and we have a system that can bring together and govern all kinds of interests, over any size of territory and population. It is as much better than hereditary government as a world in which people can write and publish freely is better than a world in which only authors' descendants can write.

This is the system on which the American government is founded: representation joined to democracy. Its structure can expand in every case to match the reach of its principle. America on a large scale will be what Athens was on a small scale. Athens was the wonder of the ancient world; America is becoming the marvel of the present one. This is the easiest form of government to understand and the best to use. It avoids both the ignorance and uncertainty of hereditary rule and the practical difficulties of simple democracy.

We could hardly imagine a government able to work across a territory and a range of interests as large as those that representation can cover. Even France, with its great size and population, is only a small point within the reach of this system. Representation is better than simple democracy even in a small territory. With representation, Athens would have surpassed its own democracy.

What we call government—or, rather, what we should understand government to be—is simply a shared center that brings all the parts of society together. No method serves the community's different interests as well as representation does. It brings together the knowledge needed to serve each part and the whole. It keeps government fully mature at all times. As I have said, it is never young or old. It cannot be either an immature child or a person who has lost the powers of age. It is never in a cradle or on crutches. It does not separate knowledge from power. It stands above the accidents that can affect individuals, as government always should. It is therefore better than what is called monarchy.

A nation is not a body shaped like a human being. Think of it instead as a body within a circle, with every line from its edge meeting at a shared center. Representation creates that center. Joining representation to what is called monarchy puts government off-center. Representation already puts the nation's authority in the hands of people to whom it has delegated that authority. It cannot lower itself by sharing that authority with another power.

In speeches to Parliament and in print, Mr. Burke has used a meaningless play on words several times. Speaking about government, he says, "It is better to have monarchy as its foundation and republicanism to correct it than to have republicanism as its foundation and monarchy to correct it." If he means that correcting foolishness with wisdom is better than correcting wisdom with foolishness, I will only reply that it would be far better to get rid of the foolishness altogether.

But what is this thing Mr. Burke calls monarchy? Will he explain it? Everyone can understand representation. We can also understand that it necessarily brings together different kinds of knowledge and talent. But what guarantees those qualities in a monarchy? When the monarch is a child, where is the wisdom? What does that child know about governing? Who then is the monarch, and where is the monarchy? If a regent must govern instead, monarchy is exposed as a farce. A regency is a false kind of republic, and the same description fits monarchy as a whole. It can take as many forms as the imagination can dream up. It has none of the stability government should have. Every succession changes the government, and every regency changes it back. The whole system is a constant scene of secret plots and scheming at court. Mr. Burke himself is an example. For monarchy to work as government, the next person in line would have to be born a grown man, and one as wise as Solomon. It is ridiculous for nations to wait and interrupt their government while boys grow into men.

Perhaps I have too little sense to see monarchy's value, or too much sense to be deceived. Perhaps I have too much pride or too little, or some other fault. I leave those questions aside. What is certain is that monarchy always looks foolish and contemptible to me. It is like something hidden behind a curtain, surrounded by a great commotion and a show of solemn importance. But if the curtain accidentally opens and everyone sees what is there, they burst out laughing.

Nothing like that can happen under representative government. Like the nation itself, it has lasting strength in both body and mind. It stands openly before the world, honestly and with the confidence of an adult. Everyone can see its strengths and weaknesses. It does not depend on fraud or secrecy. It does not rely on empty claims or misleading arguments. Instead, it encourages words that people feel and understand, words that speak directly from one person to another.

To miss the foolishness of monarchy, we must close our eyes to reason and degrade our own judgment. Nature follows an orderly pattern in everything she does, but this form of government works against nature. It reverses the growth of human abilities. It makes adults subject to children and wisdom subject to foolishness.

Representative government, by contrast, always follows nature's order and unchanging laws. It makes sense to people in every respect. Here is an example:

In the American federal government, the President of the United States receives more delegated power than any individual member of Congress. A person therefore cannot be elected president before the age of thirty-five years. By then a person's judgment is more mature. He has lived long enough to know people, public affairs, and the country; and the country has had time to know him. But under monarchy, the next person in line is put in charge of a nation and its government at the age of eighteen years, whatever he is like. This is in addition to the many chances against any person born in the world receiving the lucky share of human abilities. Does that look wise? Does it fit a nation's dignity and adult character? Why call such a boy the father of his people? In every other situation, a person is legally a minor until the age of twenty-one years. Before then, he cannot be trusted to manage an acre of land or to inherit a flock of sheep or a herd of pigs. Yet, astonishingly, at the age of eighteen years, he can be trusted with a nation.

To me, at least, every way of looking at monarchy shows that it is an illusion, a court trick for obtaining money. Under a rational representative system, it would be impossible to run up the enormous bill that this trick permits. Government itself need not cost very much. As I have said, America's federal government is based on representation and covers a country nearly ten times as large as England. Its total cost is only six hundred thousand dollars, or one hundred and thirty-five thousand pounds sterling.

I assume that no reasonable person would compare any European king favorably with General Washington. Yet the civil list—the money spent to support just one man—in France and also in England costs eight times as much as the entire federal government of America. It is almost impossible to explain why. People in America, especially poor people, can generally afford taxes better than people in either France or England.

The reason is that representative government spreads knowledge about government throughout a nation. That knowledge drives out ignorance and prevents people from being cheated. Court tricks cannot work in those conditions. There is no room for secrecy and nowhere for it to begin. People outside the representative body know as much about public business as those inside it. Anyone pretending to possess some mysterious importance would be laughed off. Nations cannot have secrets. The secrets kept by courts, like those kept by individuals, always hide their faults.

Under representative government, every decision needs a publicly stated reason. Each person has a stake in the government and considers understanding it part of his own business. It affects his interests because it affects his property. He looks at the cost and compares it with the benefits. Above all, he does not follow the submissive habit of obeying those called Leaders in other governments.

Governments can collect excessive revenue only by keeping people from understanding and persuading them that government is something mysterious and extraordinary. Monarchy is well suited to that purpose. It is the government equivalent of religious rule by the pope: it keeps ignorant people entertained and makes them accept taxes without protest.

Strictly speaking, a free country's government resides in its laws, not in the people holding office. Making those laws does not cost much. Once they are carried out, all the work of civil government is done. Everything else is a device of the court.