voting in bad faith
TRANSCRIPT
Voting in Bad Faith
Joanne C. Lau
� Springer Science+Business Media Dordrecht 2014
Abstract What is wrong with participating in a democratic decision-making
process, and then doing something other than the outcome of the decision? It is
often thought that collective decision-making entails being prima facie bound to the
outcome of that decision, although little analysis has been done on why that is the
case. Conventional perspectives are inadequate to explain its wrongness. I offer a
new and more robust analysis on the nature of voting: voting when you will accept
the outcome only if the decision goes your way is an act of bad faith: you are not
taking part in a ‘process that decides what we will do’. This analysis sheds light on
understanding the intrinsic nature of voting and what we are doing when we make
decisions collectively.
Keywords Voting � Democracy � Collective decision-making �Bad faith
In June 2011, the Australian parliament was debating whether to introduce a carbon
tax. Then-opposition leader Tony Abbott demanded a plebiscite to determine
whether the government should impose a fixed price on carbon emissions. ‘If the
people have their say and their say is conclusive one way or another, that should
settle the matter,’ he said (Abbott moves for vote 2011). Yet Abbott opposed the
idea of imposing a carbon tax; he also said that, ‘My position on a carbon tax is that
I am against it in opposition [sic] and I will rescind it in government (Gillard says
Abbott 2011).’ Were his party in power, Abbott specifically stated that he would
rescind the carbon tax even if the plebiscite came back with a majority ‘yes’ result.
J. C. Lau (&)
Virginia Tech, 219 Major Williams Hall, Blacksburg, VA 24061, USA
e-mail: [email protected]
123
Res Publica
DOI 10.1007/s11158-014-9246-x
Is there something wrong or inconsistent about Abbott’s statements? Do
collective decision-making processes, like voting, presuppose that those participat-
ing have implicitly agreed to be bound by the outcome of that process? There seems
to be something morally wrong about voting where you do not plan to be bound by
the outcome of the decision. It is, at the best, an odd notion. It is, at the worse,
inconsistent. But what exactly is wrong about it?
I will refer to the practice of casting a vote without intending to be bound by the
outcome of the decision as ‘voting in bad faith’.1 So—if anything—what is wrong
with voting in bad faith? Some obvious answers—that it is unfair, or that you are
acting untruthfully—prove inadequate as full explanations. I shall suggest it is
something deeper in the internal logic of making decisions by voting at all that
vitiates voting in bad faith.
Little attention has been paid to this aspect of electoral ethics so far, although
there is fertile ground for exploring this question.2 My paper will proceed as
follows. I will begin by outlining two common accounts—unfairness and
misrepresentation—for why we might think that it is wrong to vote without
intending to be bound to the outcome of that vote. However, both of these accounts
have shortcomings. I will then offer a positive account for why voting in bad faith is
wrong: when we vote, we are making decisions about ourselves, including how we
ought to act. To agree to be part of the decision-making process, but then go against
the collectively-made decision is effectively sham voting: it is pretending to vote,
but not really voting at all.3 As such, voting in bad faith is wrong because it violates
the purpose of what we are doing when we vote.4
Outlining the Problem of Voting in Bad Faith
To flesh out the issue of voting in bad faith, I will first establish why we might think
that it is a problem at all with reference to some common cases.
1 This is in contrast to terms such as an ‘utmost good faith’ clause in insurance law, which requires the
agent to fully and candidly disclose all relevant information for the purposes of taking out a policy.
Voting in bad faith suggests that the agent is not disclosing all relevant information when it comes to
deciding how to vote. It should also be distinguished from the Sartrean idea of acting in bad faith.2 The primary discussant in the contemporary literature on electoral ethics is Jason Brennan, but he does
not cover the point I am making here. Other theorists have considered questions relating the importance
of democracy, but make no discussion on what exactly an analysis of collective decision-making process
may be binding (Brennan 2012; Christiano 2004; Christiano 2009).3 There is an analogy here between voting in bad faith and bargaining in bad faith (in labour relations
law): the latter is sham bargaining, going through the motions of bargaining, but without any intent of
reaching a negotiated settlement. It is a form of abuse of process. So too is voting in bad faith a sham:
going through the motions of voting, but without any intent of reaching a social decision that you will
consider binding upon you [Olson Rug Company v. National Labor Relations Board, 304 F.2d 710 (7th
Cir. 1962)].4 The account is intended to apply to different types of collective decision-making processes.
J. C. Lau
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Consider the following example. We are a group of friends who are deciding
where to have dinner. I want Indian food, and you want to go to your favourite
Italian place. Obviously, it would be silly for us to each go to our preferred
restaurants and eat alone, since the whole point of our deciding where to have dinner
is for us to have dinner together. We put it to a vote, and the majority of the group
decides to go to the Indian restaurant. As we are heading there, you announce that
you refuse to join us and are going to the Italian restaurant anyway. At the very
least, we might find this a little bit odd; at most, we might think that you have
wronged us by taking part in the decision and then still following your own plans
regardless of the outcome of the decision. If you were going to go to the Italian
restaurant all along, then why not simply declare that outright?5
Or suppose that we are directors for a company with a choice of two policies it
can adopt. The company cannot adopt both policies—perhaps they are inconsistent
with each other, or that we do not have funding for both. I think we should have
policy A, and you support policy B. We put it to a vote with the rest of the board,
and policy A wins. The board takes steps to implement policy A. Meanwhile, you
announce that you refuse to go by the decision we have voted upon and implement
policy B. Again, we might think that there is something wrong with your actions.
Why bother to put it to a vote at all, if you are not going to respect the decision that
we have all made together?
What underlies our reaction to the above cases is that we think that those who
take part in a decision-making process ought to obey whatever decision is made by
that process, even if they have not voted for it themselves.6 To fail to do so—that is,
to vote in bad faith—seems wrong to those who have taken part in the vote and
bound themselves to the outcome. The reason is that there is a standard of practice
that necessarily involves being bound to the outcome of the vote, and that a
violation of that standard is, prima facie, an action that wrongs the other members of
the voting collective. However, the diagnosis is not complete. In the following
sections, I will examine why we would think that voting in bad faith is wrong.
5 How we ought to act can be subject to other considerations. Contrast the ‘friends at dinner’ case with a
case where, on the last day of a conference, I am with a group of strangers. We are deciding where to go
for dinner, as per the above example. If we decide to get Indian food, but you decide to go and have
Italian food after we vote on it, then it seems rather odd of you to do that, but it would also be less bad
than in the case of the friends. Why? In the case of friendship, our decision concerns a pre-existing plural
subject—when we decide where we should go for dinner, there is some ‘we’, governed by the practice of
friendship, that obligates us to be bound to the outcome. The group of strangers are less bound, because
the conference-going ‘we’ is less firmly fixed. Political members fall somewhere between friends and
strangers, and there is an existing practice of democratic politics, so we need not worry about the alleged
disanalogy (Helm 2008).6 It might argued that voting is different from the dinner and the company case in that political
membership is not voluntary in the same way that friendship and business partnerships are. Clearly, all
individuals within a jurisdiction may have an obligation to obey the law, but my interest is in whether
those who participate in the democratic decision-making process may have an additional obligation on
that basis.
Voting in Bad Faith
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Free Riding, Unfairness and Circularity
What is wrong about voting in bad faith? One potential explanation is that those
who do so are treating their fellow voters unfairly. Notably, under the theory of fair
play, you (as a member of a cooperative scheme) are bound to contribute to the
scheme because it would be unfair to the other members if you benefitted without
contributing to its production.7 The free-riding individual is thus treating herself
differently from how she expects others ought to treat themselves, and is relying on
the fact that others will act correctly to obtain her benefits for free.
As such, free riding is a form of unfairness. Unfairness occurs when people who
we reasonably expect ought to act in some particular way do not act in that way, and
as a result of that they are in a better off position than others who did act as they
ought, that is, the others contributed to a scheme that he or she did not, but he or she
benefits from that contribution.8 However, certain conditions must be met in the
theory of fair play for unfairness to arise. Hart outlines those conditions as follows:
‘When a number of persons conduct any joint enterprise according to rules and
thus restrict their liberty, those who have submitted to these restrictions when
required have a right to a similar submission from those who have benefited by
their submission.’ (Hart 1955, p. 185)
In other words, a joint enterprise must be in place, to which voters contribute and
receive benefits according to a set of rules. In the voting case, the rules by which the
scheme applies are just that we (collectively) abide by the outcome of the
democratic procedure, regardless of the outcome. Our benefits and costs, then, are
simply others being bound by the outcome when our side wins and being ourselves
bound by the outcome when our side loses.
As Davidson points out, however, every act is an act under a description, and
there are multiple possible descriptions that are applicable for any act (Davidson
1963). That poses problems for the Hartian account, insofar as individuals who do
not act under a description that involves taking part in the same sort of scheme. An
account of fairness would only apply if voters’ act-descriptions involve participating
in a particular joint enterprise or convention, such that a voter deviating from the
rules of that enterprise or convention would be acting unfairly.
But, therein circularity arises. Voters must understand that they are reasonably
expected to behave in a particular way. Where would this come from? The voting
scheme would have to have some way, independent of the act-descriptions of the
actors themselves, to identify who are relevant members of the scheme, and it would
have to have built into the scheme the fact that members must be bound by the
7 Various versions of this description exist in the literature on the theory of fair play (Broad 1916; Cullity
1995; Hart 1955; Klosko 1987; Nozick 1974).8 There are clearly other forms of unfairness: Unfairness in a sporting match involves not adhering to the
rules agreed upon by the participants. Unfairness in selection processes occurs where a selector displays a
bias for one individual over the others by considering irrelevant or extraneous information. What is
important in these cases is that the person who is acting unfairly does so by behaving contrary to an
agreed standard of practice, at the expense of those who do act according to the rules.
J. C. Lau
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outcome, and that that those who not bound by the outcome were wrongly
arrogating themselves over the other voters. But that just stipulates by what the
members are bound. It does not provide any analysis of why they should be so
bound.9
This section outlines the dialectic in the ordinary analysis of voting in bad faith.
The principle of fairness, which seems to be obvious in accounting for the
wrongness of not abiding with a collective decision, is problematically circular. The
scheme identifies its members by saying that the members are those that are bound
to the outcome of the decision.
Misrepresentation and False Intentions
Another explanation for the wrongness of voting in bad faith might be that the
intention of accepting the result only if it goes your way is a form of ‘false
representation’, in that you are misrepresenting yourself as being committed to
respecting the outcome of the election, when you all along had no intention of doing
so.
Misrepresentation is commonly analysed in relation to contract law. There, it is
the giving of false information by one party to the other, which induces them to
enter the contract.10 However, a moral analysis suggests that there is something
wrong with misrepresentation irrespective of how it causes the other party to
respond.11 We think misrepresentation is morally wrong because it gives rise to a
false expectation on the part of the other agents involved.
For example, suppose I promise that I will feed your cat while you are on
vacation, when I actually have no intention of doing anything of the sort. There, I
have given you cause to form the reasonable expectation that your cat will be looked
after, and you would act accordingly. When you return from vacation and your cat is
close to starvation, you are rightfully outraged by the fact that I have not kept my
promise to you. There, I have wronged you because my false promise caused you to
act to your (and your cat’s) detriment.12
9 Even if the Hartian account is circular, it might not be viciously so. We might see voting as a Lewisian
convention: we have a practice of following the rules of our decision-making process, and the decision-
making process involves adhering to the outcome of the election, even if it is not what we individually
have decided. We do not all have to agree on the convention; as long as enough of us recognise it as such
and follow it, then that is sufficient to be bound to the practice. Once the convention is constitutive of the
‘voting game’, then to take part in the game means that you are necessarily engaging in the conventional
practice and bound by the conventional understandings of that game (Lewis 2002; Searle 1964).10 If the misrepresentation causes you to believe a wrong set of facts, and act on them in a particular way,
then you can seek remedy. If the misrepresentation had no effect on you, then no wrong was done at law.11 On a Kantian view, misrepresentation is wrong because it is not universalizable. Misrepresentation can
only be successful if people generally tell the truth. Universalising a principle of misrepresentation would
lead to serious failures in social and collective trust, and therefore cannot be a maxim that should be held
by everyone. It would render all attempts to communicate with others incoherent (Kant 1996).12 Wrong is also done even if I intended to keep my promise to you, but you know that I hate cats and
therefore hire a professional pet sitter instead, and I subsequently renege on my promise. However, that is
outside the scope of this discussion.
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In the voting case, the misrepresentation lies in purporting to agree to respect the
outcome of the election, with no intention of doing so. To all external appearances,
the voter in bad faith votes as if he intends to adhere to the outcome. But if he, like
Tony Abbott, will not abide by the outcome if it goes against him, allowing others to
believe that about him constitutes a false representation.
While the misrepresentation account is promising, it works only if the common
understanding of voting implies a commitment to respect the outcome of the
election. But, of course, the common understanding of voting could have been
otherwise, so this cannot adequately explain the wrongness of voting in bad faith.
Suppose that a dictator holds an election. He can overturn an electoral outcome
that goes contrary to his views, and makes it clear that he will do so if he does not
like the outcome of the election. There, the fact that the dictator has the particular
power of overturning the election makes him an exception to the rule that we are
bound to the outcome, and as such frustrates the purpose of having such a rule at all.
But where it’s widely understood that the dictator might well repudiate the results
of an election if it goes against him, then he is not making a ‘false representation’ at
all when he is casting his ballot. Indeed, he is being blatantly honest about the fact
that he has no intention of being bound to the electoral outcome, and all the other
voters are aware of this. Insofar as we would still think that something is amiss, even
if he had not falsely represented his intentions, then misrepresentation cannot fully
explain voting in bad faith. Consequently, explaining the wrongness of voting in bad
faith by appealing to misrepresentation is weak and incomplete.13
The Intrinsic Nature of Electoral Decision-Making
So far I have examined two likely answers for why voting in bad faith is wrong.
However, they both cannot fully explain the problem of voting in bad faith. I now
present a positive account: an analysis of the intrinsic nature of voting can explain
the wrongness of voting in bad faith.
Consider the dictator case again. If he was being honest with his intentions, did
the dictator really ‘cast a vote’ at all? There is a sense in which he did: he checked
the appropriate box on the ballot paper and put the paper in the ballot box. But it is
hardly part of a social decision-making process (which we take elections to be) if
the dictator has both the power and the intention to overturn the democratically-
made decision if it goes against him; the election will have decided nothing, and the
dictator still decides everything.
Voting is, first and foremost, a decision-making procedure. Simply put, to vote is
to make a decision. One additional feature of such decision-making relates to the
objects of that decision. In one sense, this is quite obvious: if you are making a
13 It is irrelevant what the other voters know of the dictator’s intentions and actions. Even if the dictator
did not announce his intentions and had planned to wait and see what the outcome was before deciding
whether to overturn the decision, we would say that he is still doing something wrong by not following
the collective decision. Given our conventional practices, a natural and reasonable inference from his
silence would be that he would be bound. There, we might say that he is misrepresenting his intentions by
omission.
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decision, you are making a decision about something. However, where we are the
objects of that decision, then we are making a decision about ourselves and what we
ought to do, and that places an additional obligation on us as to how we ought to
act.14 A failure to abide by the process that one participates in frustrates that
process; it defeats the purpose of deciding by a vote in the first place.
This is a stronger claim against the actions of a voter in bad faith (such as the
dictator) than the charge of misrepresentation, because it gives us a principled
explanation for why voting in bad faith is wrong. It is wrong because we are
breaking an obligation that we have incurred, as the objects of the decision-making
process.15 Further, it is internal to the logic of voting as a decision-making
procedure that it decides something. Hence, no one can announce that they are
‘engaging in a voting procedure which won’t (necessarily) be allowed to decide
anything’ without pain of self-contradiction: either it is a voting procedure and
hence decides something, or else it doesn’t decide anything, in which case it is not a
voting procedure.16
A similar puzzle has been discussed in Wollheim’s voting paradox. There, I may
feel that A ought to be the case for moral reasons, but as a dedicated democrat I hold
that the result of the voting procedure ought to be the case. The voting procedure
results in not-A, and therefore I seem bound to think both that A ought to be the case
and that not-A ought to be the case (Wollheim 2001). It could be argued that the
internal logic account of voting that I have presented also raises a paradox: if ‘voting
in bad faith’ is not really ‘voting’ at all in the sense that I have described, then there
really is no such thing as ‘voting in bad faith’, but rather, it is something else—call it
‘schmoting’. I do not find this to be problematic. What the internal logic account raises
is merely an apparent paradox. It would be truly paradoxical if schmoting were and
were not voting at the same time. But this paper shows that schmoting is, logically, not
the same as voting. Like Wollheim, I am simply doing with that apparent paradox
what one should always do with paradoxes: dissolve them.17
There are some additional features of voting in bad faith worth mentioning,
although I will not dwell on them much. Some scholars have noted that voting also
has non-instrumental functions. The franchise allows voters to express themselves
14 This is similar to Raz’s ‘pre-emption thesis’, where an authority’s reasons for actions replace, rather
than operate alongside, reasons that the agent’s have before entering into legal arbitration (Raz 1985). By
extension, the reasons arrived at by collective authority replace an individual agent’s reasons for action.15 Specifically, there is an interpersonal duty owed to the other participants in the decision-making
process, who are taking part in good faith.16 We can disambiguate voting proper from other actions that look like voting. For instance, straw polls
look as though people are voting, but they do not (by definition) ‘decide’ anything. As such, the
appearance that people are voting in them is merely illusory. Certainly the issue of voting in bad faith
cannot arise in those cases, anyway: if the vote decides nothing, then it cannot be the case that one is
doing anything wrong by voting in the election without intending to be bound by its outcome (since
nobody is).17 It could also be suggested there are other ways of solving Wollheim’s paradox (Barry 1973; Estlund
1989; Goldstick 1973; Honderich 1974; Paris and Reynolds 1978; Weiss 1973). Likewise, there may be
other ways of solving the ‘‘schmoting’’ paradox other than the way I have described, but all of the
possible solutions to the schmoting paradox would still necessarily consider schmotes not to be votes, and
as such my point can still be made.
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politically (Brennan and Lomasky 1997), or to show their membership among those
who count as political decision-makers (Brennan 2009; Scanlon 1998). As such, we
may think that voting in bad faith is also wrong on a non-instrumentalist account of
democracy—to vote in bad faith is to fail to respect one’s fellow citizens. This could
be understood in at least two different ways. Firstly, by failing to adhere to the
democratically-made decision, the voter in bad faith lacks consideration for the
views of her political peers. That is, one cannot consistently vote in bad faith while
respecting other members of the polity as Rawlsian free and equal citizens. Insofar
as we think that respect and social esteem are valuable, those who vote in bad faith
fail to adequately recognize and value those qualities in their fellow voters.18
Secondly, those who vote in bad faith disrespect the process that has been agreed
upon by their political peers. By failing to show procedural respect, the voter in bad
faith fails to properly participate in the discursive nature of political life, or to
understand the role of voting as a procedure that promotes just decision-making in
society (Griffin 2003). Although my focus in this paper is on the role and function of
voting as a decision-making process, it is important to identify these other features.
Below, I examine the implications of being bound to obey the outcome of the vote.
Voting is Necessarily Binding Procedure
Decision-making procedures, where we are the objects of those decisions, are
decisions about what we collectively ought to do.19 That is, we intend the outcome
of the decision to be binding, regardless of what way it goes.20 Someone who is
voting in bad faith, however, will not let the vote make the decision for him. Instead,
he has already decided on what his course of action will be, and intends to ‘abide’
by the outcome if and only if it goes a particular way. As a result of this, the person
who votes in bad faith—a ‘schmoter’—is not participating in a voting procedure at
all, insofar as voting is a decision-making procedure and he will not let the vote
make the decision.21
Note that the internal logic account that I have presented is not susceptible to the
circularity problem from which the fairness account suffered. Voting is not, as the
18 We may also think that there is a simple Kantian argument here for respect for autonomous persons, or
an argument pace Honneth for respecting social esteem (Honneth 1996; Kant 1998).19 ‘We’ in this context refers to the group of voters. It could also be argued that instead of us (as
individuals) being the objects of the vote, the appropriate object of the vote is the state. However, the state
can ultimately be conceived of as the aggregate of voters, and state decisions are still action-guiding on
voters (Feinberg 1968; McCloskey 1963; Pasternak 2011).20 I have used straightforward cases, but how we understand ‘the outcome’ will vary in more complicated
situations. For example, voting in a presidential election does not mean that we are bound to obey all
subsequent policies from the administration; all it entails is that we recognize that someone is the
president. This means that voters still have the right to protest those policies without contradicting
themselves.21 A Kantian account also applies here. On this analysis of voting, the universalisation of the principle of
voting in bad faith would constitute a self-contradiction undermining the core of that as a collective
decision-making process. It would be extremely difficult (if not impossible), then, to make sense of the
voting scenario as ordinarily understood.
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unfairness approach makes it appear, an arbitrary convention the content of which
could in principle have been specified in any of a number of different ways. Instead,
voting is necessarily a decision-making process. To redescribe voting in some other
way would mean that it was no longer voting at all—it is a self-defeating action that
frustrates the process that everyone else is participating in.
The fact that we are members of the decision-making group for a collectively-
made decision may incur a related, but separate obligation on the principle of
fairness to be bound to the collective outcome.22 This suggests that, at most, the
explanation from the principle of fairness that I discussed previously can
supplement the internal logic argument, but cannot on its own explain the
wrongness of voting in bad faith.
Likewise, we might think that misrepresentation of one’s voting intentions is
wrong, but that wrong is independent of failing to adhere to a collectively made
decision. If everyone were known to be voting in bad faith, then there would be no
point in voting. Whichever side loses would still refuse to do what the winning side
wants–which is exactly what would be the case without the election, and they
fighting about what to do without the niceties of any ballots.23 The internal logic
account therefore supervenes on unfairness and misrepresentation in explaining the
wrongness of failing to adhere to a collectively-made decision.
How does this account apply to ordinary voters? If we think voting in bad faith is
wrong in the case of the dictator, then what do we say about individuals who do not
have the power to make true their intentions? Unlike dictators, a voter cannot
overturn elections that do not go his way by all by himself. Even so, although none
of them unilaterally have the power to make their intentions come true, a group of
voters collectively have the power to bring about an outcome; a large enough
subgroup of the electorate can affect the outcome by voting together. Perhaps voting
in bad faith in a voting bloc would be sufficient to overturn the election. There, the
voter in bad faith also stands ready, as occasions arise, to join with others in acting
to undermine the decision if it goes against him. Such sheer ‘openness to
subversion’ makes it not a decision-making procedure.
However, on an individual basis, the voter in bad faith is still doing something
wrong. So long as the conception of what it means to vote remains a ‘decision-
making process by which we decide what we ought to do’, the individual who votes
in bad faith is not allowing the collective vote to determine what is done, by him
(among others). Even if a voter could not actually change the outcome of the
decision to suit himself, the fact that he does not intend to let the vote be the
determining factor in what he ought to do is still objectionable. This is because it
frustrates the group’s intention to make a decision on a democratic basis. What is
wrong is that the voter in bad faith is doing something other than actually voting,
when everyone else is taking part in a collective decision-making process. He is not
22 Thanks to Garrett Cullity for this point.23 That suggests another connection between voting in bad faith and unfairness. The only motivation you
have for agreeing to vote, knowing you are voting in bad faith, is that you suppose there will be at least
some people who are not and who (if the election goes your way) will not resist that outcome in a way
they would have done if you had not laundered the decision through an election. And that is unfair on
those who do consider themselves bound when others would not have, had the outcome been otherwise.
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binding himself to the collective decision-making process where he ought to, if he
were actually voting properly.
Being Bound to Obey is Pro Tanto
So far, I have examined the role of voting as a decision-making process, where if we
are the object of that decision, we are deciding what we ought to do. By voting, we
have incurred an obligation to be bound to the outcome, and if that outcome
concerns us, then we are bound to do what we have agreed to do. Of course, the
obligation to be bound to the outcome is pro tanto only, and it can be overturned if it
is too costly to meet, relative to other considerations. To take a rather fanciful
example, if the majority of us have decided that I should cut off my leg to feed to a
bear for entertainment, I can rightfully object and deny that I am bound to cut my
leg off for everyone else’s entertainment. Likewise, if our vote shows that we have
decided to enslave and oppress a particular class in society, the members of that
class do not have to passively accept our collective decision. This type of ‘tyranny
of the majority’ is a problem when the majority uses its democratic force to oppress
a minority.
In the bear case, the problem is that the majority has unreasonably demanded that
a severe injustice be inflicted upon me. Reasonableness, for our purposes, is
determined by whether citizens can enter into reasonable discourse and treat other
citizens as free and equal, even if those other citizens have differing views. Joshua
Cohen describes political reasonableness as follows:
People are reasonable, politically speaking, only if they are concerned to live
with others on terms that those others, understood as free and equal, can also
reasonably accept (Cohen 1999).
In demanding that I cut my leg off, the majority are not giving me terms that I (as a
free and equal person) can reasonably accept. If the roles were reversed, and if they
considered themselves free and equal, it is unlikely that they would agree to have
their legs cut off. As such, that I cut my leg off is not a reasonable demand.24
But is it so easy to dismiss the authority of a democracy?25 Should the fact that
the decision was democratically made not have some weight? After all, Christiano’s
24 Importantly, it is unclear whether unreasonableness is a ground for rejecting a democratically-made
decision. Some theorists claim that unreasonable demands, even if they are made democratically, do not
need to be adhered to by the decision-makers, or the objects of the decision. Jonathan Quong, for
example, argues that an unreasonable person should not have his rights to the political community
completely removed, but that he ‘can be prevented from exercising those rights when his aims are
explicitly unreasonable—indeed they cease to be rights when he attempts to exercise them in this way’
(Quong 2004, p. 332). However, it is not clear what the rights turn into when they are being exercised in
this way, nor how an unreasonable person can be prevented from the exercise of the right.25 Of course, for any philosophical position there is an opposite position, and likewise there are theorists
that do not think that democracy is—or ought to be—authoritiative. However, this is not a problem for my
argument. Huemer, for example, argues against authority as justificatory of coercion (Huemer 2013). He
would say that I am not obligated to do what we have collectively decided, because the group lacks the
appropriate authority to coerce me to do so. However, I think Huemer’s conception of authority as
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worry is that by not going with the democratically-made decision, you are not
treating others as your equals (Christiano 2004). Gerhard Øverland and Christian
Barry observe, however, that Christiano’s view only appears convincing where the
interest of the individual substantially overlaps with her view of what is morally
correct (Øverland and Barry 2011). If we consider the case where an individual is
considering the reasonableness of a policy as it relates to some agent other than
herself, we can separate the two issues. On doing so, we see that it becomes harder
to claim that an individual is not treating others as equals if they are contravening a
democratically-made decision to protect third parties that are not being treated as
equals. If I disobey a law that calls for the oppression of a minority, I surely cannot
be going against the democratically-made decision in the way that Christiano
describes. So long as the individual’s response to the (unreasonable) demands of the
majority is reasonable, then it is not objectionable for her to be acting in a way that
undermines the demands of the unreasonable majority.26
Given the above, we could say that we are not obligated to obey unreasonable
demands. There are two ways that this can be understood. Firstly, if the demand is
unreasonable, then there is no obligation at all to obey. A contract that obligates me
to commit murder cannot be binding or enforceable. Likewise, being part of a group
with morally odious ends (such as the Ku Klux Klan, or the Mafia) cannot generate
binding or enforceable associative obligations (Dworkin 1986; Scheffler 1997).
Secondly, if the demand is unreasonable, then while there is still a pro tanto
obligation to comply with it, it is outweighed on balance by other considerations.
We can think of the members of the Ku Klux Klan as still having obligations to that
group, but those obligations are overridden by other obligations not to harm others
or treat them unjustly. That is, the additional obligation deriving from membership
of the group is the same, even in the case of groups with evil purposes. It is simply
the case that, with an evil group, the weight of countervailing considerations is
much greater. An obligation is simply that; it has a particular strength and provides a
moral reason for action. We do not need to worry about the quality of the ground of
the obligation, because that feature becomes relevant only for considering the
strength of the obligation.
What the above discussion indicates is that unless the decision is extremely
onerous or costly, the fact that we have collectively decided how to act is an
additional reason, over and above any other reason we may have to act. The pro
tanto claim also covers cases of civil disobedience. Usually, civil disobedience is
invoked in cases of bad laws. Pro tanto, you have a duty to obey because this is what
Footnote 25 continued
coercive is problematic, in that his analysis does not seem to take seriously the idea of authority (as
traditionally understood by Hobbes and Locke) as coercive. My view is simply taking as a starting point
the position that democracy has some authority, although of course I acknowledge cases where that
authority could be overridden.26 We could also make a similar argument for subjects of the persistent minority, although the persistent
minority is distinct from the current case, because the majority need not oppress the minority for it to be a
persistent minority. Notably, the persistent minority case requires the systemic and ongoing defeat of a
particular group in a decision-making process. Furthermore, the demands of the majority need not be
unreasonable, unjust or morally wrong.
Voting in Bad Faith
123
it means to vote. Complying with the law that got enacted may not cost you much,
but if it is deeply odious, then on balance you should not comply. In this case, you
might be doing something wrong by not being bound to the morally odious law, but
it might be all-things-considered morally permissible to disobey it.27
A Further Consequence of Voting in Bad Faith
If the above account is correct, then we have a principled reason for why voting in
bad faith is morally criticisable. Those voters did not really cast a vote at all if
voting by definition involves pro tanto being bound to the collective decision-
making process.
The internal logic of voting means that the practice of voting could not have been
set up any other way and still have been voting. So what does logic tell us about
those who vote in bad faith? Since the internal logic of voting states that the rules
have to be how they are, when voting you (together with other voters) are, by
definition, making a decision that will be binding. If the outcome of the ‘vote’
would not be binding, then the exercise was not ‘voting’ (defined as necessarily
being a decision procedure).
This is a thicker notion of voting that what our current understanding allows, but
this should not be surprising. There has been little work done on what it means to
vote, and the analysis I have offered is consistent with our current understanding, if
just more robust. People should not participate in democratic decision-making
processes unless they are committed to accepting the outcome.28 If they do
otherwise, they are actually doing something other than voting.
One response is that if we think that voting is a performative action, the intention
of the voter is irrelevant to whether or not they have cast a vote.29 Instead, what
matters is that the voter fills out the ballot correctly and puts it in the appropriate
box. However, this would be too narrow a view of performative actions. For
example, saying ‘I do’ in the presence of priest might count as binding yourself to
marriage, but not so in the context of, say, a play (even if the role of the priest is
performed by a priest). The difference is that the agent intends to be married by
27 An interesting question at this point might be whether it makes any difference to the wrongness of
voting in bad faith if the person failing to comply does so in secret. Publicity is not a necessary or
sufficient condition for civil disobedience—the Underground Railroad, for instance, would have been less
successful had it been publicised. However, it is clear that in other cases of civil disobedience (such as the
Occupy movement), publicity certainly helps draw attention to a cause. I do not think that whether the act
is public makes a difference to the permissibility of voting in bad faith. So long as the reason for
disobeying the decision when it is collectively made is that it is outweighed by more stringent moral
reasons, then it is sufficient to overturn the obligation to obey the outcome of the vote.28 Certain states, such as Australia and Belgium, have compulsory voting in that it is compulsory for
citizens to show up at the polls and have their names marked off, but they are not required to complete the
ballot paper. (It may therefore be more accurate to characterise this as compulsory poll attendance.) Such
cases complicate the account I present here, but they help illustrate what electoral obligations citizens
have. If the obligation not to vote when you do not intend to be bound by the outcome outweighs your
obligation to abide by voting laws, this might lead to voters in bad faith being removed from the electoral
roll. However, a full discussion of this is outside the scope of my investigation.29 This is based on Austin’s performative utterances (1975).
J. C. Lau
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saying ‘I do’ in the former example, but not in the latter. Likewise, in the case of
voting, it is only voting if the agent intends to be bound to the decision. What an
agent intends to do with the voting procedure is determinant in whether the action is
in good faith (and therefore is a vote which should be counted) or not. As such,
those who vote in bad faith are not really voting at all; while their actions look the
same as bona fide voters’, their intention not to be bound makes it such that they are
not actually casting a vote.
A further consequence, then, is that if voters in bad faith cannot really be voting,
then we should not count their vote as a vote. It goes against what we understand
voting to be if we are making a decision about what we ought to do. Of course, how
we would determine who is voting in good faith and who is not is a pragmatic
difficulty.30 Even then, a further epistemological problem arises: those who vote in
bad faith will behave differently from genuine voters only when they are on the
losing side (in which case there is no pragmatic point in disqualifying their votes, as
they have already lost). Although that discussion is outside the scope of this paper,
we can have other grounds for suspecting ‘schmoters’ are ‘schmoters’, other than
that conclusive behavioural evidence. My argument is for disqualifying them when
we have evidence of that sort against counting their ‘vote’, since they are not votes
at all.
Conclusion
A proper analysis of voting has to include its necessary connection to being bound
to the outcome of that vote. After all, the vote is a way by which we decide what
ought to be done, and if we are the objects of that decision, we bind ourselves (at
least pro tanto) to that outcome. Consequently, what makes the act of voting in bad
faith wrong is not that it is merely unfair or that the voter is misrepresenting himself,
but that he is not voting at all if he is not prepared to let the outcome of the vote
decide what will be done.
Acknowledgments I thank Bob Goodin and Christian Barry for their comments, as well as the journal’s
editors and reviewers for their suggestions. Previous versions of this paper were presented at the 2011
Australasian Association of Philosophy Conference and at a 2013 Political Philosophy seminar at
Virginia Tech.
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