Reflections on civic challenges: A letter from Atlanta, USA

Greetings from Atlanta, capital of the southern state of Georgia where I have spent a few weeks talking to people deeply committed to civic engagement – and at this moment in time, that means the November 5 election. Understandably, the world tends to focus on the Presidential race, but in every state and county there are many other elections which happen at the same time – the so called down ballot races.

Americans elect so many more people than we do – from sheriffs to school boards and municipal judges. I’ve been fortunate to spend time with organisations here which spend a great deal of time and energy on these other contests – working hard to ensure voters understand what’s on the line. Between elections they’re also the people watching closely, holding elected officials to account for what they said they’d do.

Across Georgia this time there are just under 2,000 elected posts on ballots – which differ entirely depending on where you are. In Atlanta for example there is an election for one member of the Atlanta City Council and for the District Attorney, as well as members of Congress and of course the directly elected President.

The US is a deeply democratic nation on paper, and no system is perfect, but some of the consequences of their approach and the mechanisms they use, have left me more convinced of the virtues of the Australian model.  

I get two reactions when I tell people here that we have compulsory voting: they’re either horrified at the prospect and immediately say ‘it could never work here’, or they’re intrigued and I see them begin to roll through the implications in their minds.

Kamala Harris raised a billion US dollars in 3 months – the fastest fundraising in US political history. While a huge percentage of that has gone into content creation and ad placement across platforms and the crazily diverse media markets here, a massive slice also goes into the ground game to get out the vote.

Hubs pop up in every state and county for the major contenders and generally, that means the two major parties: Republicans and Democrats. These local offices are staffed by a few paid people and armies of volunteers, enlisted to door knock and call people, manage campaign materials, distribute yard signs etc. So far, not dissimilar from Australia, but the scale of this thing and the money required to fund it can have a deeply distorting effect on the democratic process.

Convincing Americans to participate in their democracy is traditionally hard – and expensive.  Having said that, data from the Pew Research Centre shows the turnout for the 2020 Presidential election was the highest in over a century at around 66%. That year there was a lot of mail-in voting which is not the case this time round.  This year there has been record early voting, but recent numbers show that younger age groups are not turning out. We’re less than a week from election day and so far across 39 states, around one in ten Americans under 40 have voted. There are all sorts of reasons why this might be and election day is still before us, but there is clear evidence of the disengagement of younger voters, which I saw first-hand in the suburbs of Atlanta. So a big chunk of the electorate – and the people who will live with the consequences for longer – are so far bailing out of the process.

Another critical implication of compulsory voting is that in Australia, parties looking to form a majority government have to court the middle ground – they won’t get elected otherwise.  What we’ve seen in the US is parties and candidates taking a more extreme position and laying the bet they’ll get more of their base to the polls than the other guys – only possible where there is voluntary voting. In addition, our system offers greater opportunity for smaller parties and independents to participate – which with the gargantuan sums required, is all but impossible here.  

For some Americans compulsory voting is antithetical:  forcing people to participate is inherently undemocratic. The history around the development of our distinctive systems is important but fundamentally the Australian thesis is if you’re going to be affected by the policies of one political party over another, you should play a part.

The civic challenge is real in both countries. Significant numbers on both sides of the Pacific are disengaged and disenchanted – thinking it makes no difference which candidate they vote for, and/or their single vote makes no difference. Having seen the alternative up close in the US, I’d rather be starting from a basis of mandated participation than mustering the massive resources to persuade people to briefly engage every few years.

The other Australian institution for which we should be eternally grateful and deeply protective is our Electoral Commission – state and federal. In the US, voting systems and voting rules vary from state to state, and often from county to county. Elected officials control the process and it is therefore open to partisan influence. This can take many forms including gerrymandered boundaries which favour one party over another, and/or voting arrangements which severely restrict the capacity of some communities to participate in the process. Different systems breed confusion, and allegations of voter fraud can proliferate, leading to distrust in the results and questions of legitimacy around the outcome. There is of course much more to the growth of these conspiracies, but a fragmented and differential approach to casting your vote makes for fertile ground.

We have seen some challenges to the integrity of the Australian Electoral Commission from time to time, including during the referendum last year. Thankfully these were swiftly addressed, but if I’ve learnt anything here it’s that a central, common system, run independently of elected officials is key to maintaining faith in our way of government, particularly in an environment ever more prone to mis- and disinformation.

Understanding how democracy works and how you can play a part in it is critical. Civics education is increasingly vital everywhere – and I’m proud of the contribution we make at the VLF through our schools program and Law Week.

Whichever side you’re on, the stakes are high here – for the US most of all, but as we know there are profound implications for all of us. Over the last few weeks, I’ve had the privilege of watching the intense grassroots small democratic effort by true believers: door to door, call by call, conversation by conversation.  I’ve bailed up passersby with Hallowe’en candy as an incentive - to ask if they’ve voted or have a plan to, and to give them plain English materials on local referenda which are on the ballot. I’ve been at a rally where the Vice President made her impassioned pitch to Georgia voters – and the tv cameras. And on the day of the US election, I’ll be volunteering with the American Civil Liberties Union as an observer – to help ensure the ballot is free and fair.

Distance sharpens perspective and gives you an opening to be entirely curious about people, places, and this moment in time, free of daily responsibilities. This opportunity to bear witness up close is extraordinary and precious, but not unique. The levels of commitment and persistence I’ve seen here remind me of so many at home.

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