Thank you.
I am very pleased to speak to the committee on a topic so vital that I published a book about it last month. The book is called Democracy's Second Act: Why Politics Needs the Public. Most everything I want to say this afternoon is captured in the title.
First, liberal democracies are struggling not only because they're under immense pressure from foreign adversaries but also because our democracies have stopped evolving. They are leaving too many people feeling excluded and angry, like passive spectators rather than active and indispensable participants in our local and national life.
We should be proud defenders of everything we've achieved: responsible government, universal suffrage, an independent judiciary, fair and free elections and the peaceful transfer of power. Democracy's first act has delivered peace, security and voice to millions in this country and beyond, but it's not the end of our story or of our democratic evolution.
This brings me to the second half of the title, “Why Politics Needs the Public”. This should seem self-evident, and I know members of this committee are here because they believe passionately in public service. However, we must concede that the relationship between politics and the public is not as strong or as healthy as it might be.
We know this because of the long-term trend in declining voter turnout, the hollowing out of riding associations and your political parties and, of course, declining trust and confidence in government and public institutions. These trends aren't unique to Canada, but this makes them no less dangerous.
At some point over the last 50 to 60 years, governments everywhere have come to treat their publics more as risks to manage than as society's most critical resource. However, people are smart: They know when they're being managed, talked down to or kept at a distance. We are preoccupied by measuring whether people trust government; I would challenge the committee to flip the question and consider whether governments really trust people.
All of this matters because civic resilience requires what the great American educator and thinker John Dewey called democratic fitness. Democratic fitness is the sibling of civic literacy, the idea that we should all know how a bill becomes law or how governments are formed. However, more than knowledge, which is surely needed, democratic fitness is about moral courage, agency, voice and the experience of personal and collective efficacy.
We can build this fitness, like any muscle, only with exercise, and I would argue that our democratic fitness and our civic resilience decline when there are fewer opportunities to work together and exercise the skills of citizenship: disagreeing agreeably, accepting trade-offs in the pursuit of larger aims and thinking long-term as stewards of the public interest.
Democracy's second act is fundamentally about building our civic resilience by asking more of people than simply their dollars and their votes. If our democracy is struggling, it's because it is encumbered by the tyranny of low expectations and the corrosive belief that people are too ignorant, apathetic and self-interested to do more.
Where do we go from here? If liberal democracies are to thrive, we need a sea change in our understanding of modern publics and the role of parties and government. The purpose of democratic institutions must be more than sustaining the edifice of democracy; it must also include building vibrant democratic publics.
My co-author and I argue that healthy democratic publics are three things: informed, engaged and productive. Fortunately, when we look around the world, including here at home, we can see the contours of democracy's second act coming into view.
This looks like Norway's independent media trusts, which help ensure that citizens have access to a range of quality news sources and opinions, from the local to the national.
It looks like statistical agencies such as the National Science Foundation, which traditionally has measured what people know, not only what they like or dislike, and taken this as a mandate for public education and communication.
It looks like the citizens' assemblies of Ireland, which have been used to change their constitution not once but three times in the past decade, inspired in part by Canada's own early experiments in deliberative democracy.
In parts of Belgium, randomly selected members of the public can sit on committees just like this one. Rather than finding it awkward or distasteful, parliamentarians there see it as a benefit, bringing new voices and perspectives to the table. As one Belgian MP put it, you always behave better when you have guests in the house.
It looks like Sweden, which, like many Nordic countries—