Why I don't vote

I’m not pretty when I get really angry. My eyes bulge, lips snarl and my neck veins protrude. No, I’m not attractive when I’m furious – that’s why I don’t vote.

Some of you will stop reading here.  Others will assume I haven’t heard that voting is my Duty and Privilege.  Still others may be curious and continue reading. You may agree with me, or get angry, or it’s possible that you’ll have ideas that I haven’t thought of.  That’s okay; I’m still learning.

I was raised in the United States so it’s the only country I can speak about but I suspect that the leaders and voters of most “Democracies” are similar.  

Voters come in many varieties: some research the past performance of candidates, or a particular issue, others vote for a party, and some vote based on personality or appearances. Like many, I’ve voted based on each of these criteria.  And I have been disappointed or felt embarrassed by my gullibility. The roots of anger can be disappointment or embarrassment. Although most will agree that anger isn’t pretty, some say it can  be used to cause change.

Disenfranchised women spent decades fighting for the right to vote.  In the 1960’s angry citizens appeared on television and bitterly complained about the dangers of water and air pollution.  Men and women fought to change segregation laws and protested what they considered unjust military “adventures”. Did their efforts prompt change? Possibly.  But war persists.  Discrimination continues. And political corruption still exists.  Faced with these realities, how many of us are willing to dedicate the last decades of our lives to fight for a cause? How much are we willing to sacrifice? And what if that cause is misrepresented? 

Although I recognized that the movies The Snake Pit (1948) and One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975) were entertainment, they shocked and angered me. The conditions they portrayed were abominable and the criteria used for mental incarceration was flawed. So when the movement to close mental facilities arose, I wholeheartedly agreed.  What I didn’t know was that the government’s push to deinstitutionalize the mentally ill in the 1980’s was, in part, an economic decision.  President Regan cut the budget for mental institutions by 25%. In New York the number of patients in mental institutions went from 93,000 in 1955 to 32,000 in 1984. Some who were released managed because of newly developed anti-psychotic drugs but sales also benefited the pharmaceutical companies.  Fortunate patients had Halfway houses available; others didn’t or couldn’t take advantage of those facilities or drugs. Today the public try to ignore the mentally ill who sleep under bridges and in doorways. I believed that the government was looking out for the best interest of these patients. Later, I realized that the government either hadn’t had the foresight to anticipate the problems that arose or we hadn’t been told the entire story – that we’d been fooled. No one likes to feel like a fool.

Another example – during Bill Clinton’s first presidential campaign he “sharply attacked Bush for extending trade privileges to China in the years following the 1989 crackdown on pro-democracy activists in Beijing’s Tiananmen Square, accusing Bush of “coddling criminals.” Clinton promised to deny China Most-Favored Nation status unless they stopped their human-rights violations. I supported him based, in part, on that promise.  In May 1994, when he was President, he reversed that promise. 

But instead of becoming angry or depressed, I’ve become a cynic.  I know that politicians are selective in the information they reveal to the public. So, voters have little choice but to base their selection decisions on sketchy or even slanted information. I also know the psychology behind voting:  when a person makes a selection, he feels obliged to stand behind his decision.  To do otherwise bruises the ego and, we don’t like to admit that we’ve made an error.

Being cynical doesn’t solve the problem, though.  As Muriel Barbery said in The Elegance of the Hedgehog, “Nobody is a greater schoolgirl in spirit than a cynic. Cynics cannot relinquish … the belief that the world has meaning and, when things go wrong, they say that ‘Life’s a whore, I don’t believe in anything anymore’”.  

When politicians’ words do not match their deeds, how do we feel? Apathetic? Cynical? Angry? Or betrayed? Although I support the ideal of democratic rule, I recognize that leaders suffer from the same imperfections that plague all humans – self-interest.  And it’s in my best interest to not be angry. For many, discussing politics is a hobby. It’s a game they enjoy.  But for some, politics is consuming. Although they’ve physically left their home countries in order to spend the last few years of their lives in La Paz (peace), instead of enjoying that peace, they’re angry. They discuss politics, get emotionally distraught, and, in some cases, get enraged with people who don’t share their opinions.  Finally, if their candidate wins, they’re frustrated by the new administration’s actions (or lack of action).

Don’t get me wrong – I’ll mail-in my absentee ballot in the upcoming U.S. Presidential election but it will be a vote with very few expectations because I’ve been disappointed too many times.