I love this Jonathan Bernstein column (“Voting Is Essential. It Is Also Overrated”), though I disagree with the suggestion, even at a time when street protests have swept the country and appear to have shifted public opinion nationally, that voting is overrated. Beyond the provocative headline:

Is voting the fundamental act of democracy? It’s a fundamental act — but hardly the only one. It’s no more basic than protest marches, campaign rallies, board meetings of organized interest groups, donations to candidates and groups, seminars at think tanks, press reports of city council meetings, lobbying, interactions within a party network, and so on.

Bernstein argues that

voting is only a limited part of how a self-governing republic works. It’s a reminder that anyone who really wants to be in the business of republican governing needs to find ways of getting involved beyond being just a voter, whether it’s through social movements, organized interest groups, political parties, or more than one of these.

It’s the interactions of those groups and elected officials that set the agenda for government action and fill in the details; it’s also those groups, along with the mass media, that create and change public opinion, which in turn changes what elected officials and others in government choose to do. That’s where much of the richness and texture of self-government are really found, not in voting booths.

I thought of this richly textured milieu when reading yesterday’s Los Angeles Times (“Rein in police unions, some labor allies say”):

It was a far cry from “defund the police,” but the response was severe anyway. In 2019, Steve Fletcher, a first-term member of the Minneapolis City Council, decided to oppose a budget proposal to add more officers to the Police Department.

Business owners soon started calling Fletcher, who represents part of downtown, complaining of slow police responses to 911 calls about shoplifting. Store owners told Fletcher the officers who eventually responded had a message: “We’d love to help you with this, but our hands are tied by the council; talk to your council member,” Fletcher said in an interview.

The Police Officers Federation of Minneapolis declined to comment for the LA Times story; the Minneapolis Police Department denied there had been a deliberate slowdown. But, in fact, slowdowns – ‘work-to-rule’ – are a familiar tactic among public and private-sector unions. And law enforcement unions are among the most powerful labor groups in the country. California’s pension gap – a gargantuan issue for cities and counties, as well as the state – began with an extravagantly generous pension deal for the California Highway Patrol in 1999, during the second term (before he was recalled from office) of Democratic Governor Gray Davis. And candidates in both parties, in nonpartisan races, and at every level (and not just in California) covet the contributions and endorsements of law enforcement, which are touted in campaign fliers, direct mail, and radio, TV, and online advertising.

Police officers, who carry guns and badges (as well as billy clubs, rubber bullets, tasers, and chemical sprays), are more powerful than most individuals. Collectively, they are even stronger. Like the thuggish leadership of the NRA, police unions often seem to overplay their hands. (An example from the Washington Post: ‘the leader of the Minneapolis Police Officers Federation, Bob Kroll, has called the protests convulsing the city a “terrorist movement”; told officers that “the politicians are to blame” for the rioting and the police “are the scapegoats”; and described Floyd as a “violent criminal.” He has also fostered political division in the largely Democratic city; at one point, the union sold “Cops for Trump” T-shirts to raise money for charity.’) Then again (like the NRA), law enforcement unions are so well entrenched that they are accustomed to getting what they want. Niceties such as work-to-rule are overshadowed by episodes of police violence directed against protesters and journalists (and by contrasting instances where “the protesters had to deescalate the police”).

Street protests

For 23 days and counting, following the murder of George Floyd, there have been demonstrations in streets across the country (and abroad) protesting police brutality and, especially, police killings of black men. Young people have led and participated in large numbers in these protests (“These Kids Are Done Waiting for Change”).

In real life, Nya Collins, Jade Fuller, Kennedy Green, Emma Rose Smith, Mikayla Smith and Zee Thomas had never met as a group when they came together on Twitter to organize a youth march against police violence. It was unseasonably hot, even for Middle Tennessee, with rain predicted, and earlier protests here had ended in violence, with the Metro Nashville Courthouse and City Hall in flames. Collectively, these are not the most promising conditions for gathering a big crowd, much less a calm one. But the teenagers were determined to press on, even if hardly anyone showed up.

On June 4, five days later, the founding members of Teens for Equality — as the young women, ages 14 to 16, call their organization — were leading a march of protesters some 10,000 strong, according to police estimates. “I was astonished,” Kennedy Green, 14, told me in a phone interview last week. “I did not know there were that many people in Nashville who actually see a problem with the system. I was like, ‘Oh, my gosh, there are so many people here who actually care.’”

The sustained demonstrations, day after day, have been regarded as extraordinary expressions of energy and commitment to end violence directed against black Americans by police officers sworn to protect our communities. It has been exhausting, even for young people (“Young Protesters Say Voting Isn’t Enough. Will They Do It Anyway?“).

“I’m tired. I’m literally tired. I’m tired of having to do this,” said Aalayah Eastmond, 19, who survived the 2018 massacre at her high school in Parkland, Fla., became a gun control advocate, saw many legislative efforts stall — and is now organizing protests in Washington over police violence against fellow black Americans.

And political activism can be frustrating:

The deaths of black people at the hands of law enforcement. The relentless creep of climate change. Recurring economic uncertainty — this time amid a pandemic exacerbated by missteps across the federal government.

“In an ideal world, all of these issues would be solved by going out and voting,” said Zoe Demkovitz, 27, who had supported Mr. Sanders’s presidential campaign, as she marched against police violence in Philadelphia. “I tried that. I voted for the right people.”

“And this,” she concluded, adding an expletive, “still happens.”

I thoroughly agree with Bernstein that political activism is “where much of the richness and texture of self-government are really found, not voting booths,” but I don’t accept at all that

voting by itself is … well, it’s not useless, but it’s a blunt instrument that can’t really do much. A vote can’t tell the government to reform the police force, let alone give specific instructions about how to do that or any other complex task. It can’t tell the winning candidate to lower taxes, or negotiate a trade treaty with China, or make abortion illegal or marijuana legal.

All it can really do is either throw the bums out or keep them in office. And that’s not a defect with the way that elections work in the U.S. It’s inherent in the nature of voting in mass electorates. 

It takes a blunt instrument to get the attention of people in power. Throwing the bums out (or not) is powerful. Even Mitch McConnell’s caucus is scurrying for cover. It may not be much, but they’re hoping their reform proposal puts them on the right side of this issue with voters. It’s because McConnell may lose his majority at the polls in November that he has bothered with even the pretext of doing anything about police violence.

Moreover, street protests are a blunt instrument. Staging a sit-in is a blunt instrument. Giving money to – or volunteering for – a candidate or a group pushing for change is a blunt instrument. Showing solidarity with a police union is a blunt instrument. For most political activists, all we have is blunt instruments. And we had better be prepared to exercise our right to vote (and encourage our community allies to do likewise) or wielding the other blunt instruments of self-government won’t amount to much.

I agree with Barack Obama, who has begun to speak out more often as the November elections grow nearer:

I’ve heard some suggest that the recurrent problem of racial bias in our criminal justice system proves that only protests and direct action can bring about change, and that voting and participation in electoral politics is a waste of time. I couldn’t disagree more. The point of protest is to raise public awareness, to put a spotlight on injustice, and to make the powers that be uncomfortable; in fact, throughout American history, it’s often only been in response to protests and civil disobedience that the political system has even paid attention to marginalized communities. But eventually, aspirations have to be translated into specific laws and institutional practices — and in a democracy, that only happens when we elect government officials who are responsive to our demands.

Young protesters and millions of Americans embrace ending police violence against black Americans as a compelling goal. But not everyone is on board. This is a struggle to increase accountability for a powerful group. Labor unions are not in the business of increasing accountability at the expense of job security. So of course police unions stand in opposition to this agenda, but they are hardly the most significant sources of opposition.

Add Donald Trump; Trump’s voting base; the political party that controls the White House, the Supreme Court, the U.S. Senate, and a majority of governorships and state legislatures. And as Democrats press the issue, police reform will inevitably become more partisan, with reflexive opposition from nearly half the country.

Jim Crow came into existence at the end of reconstruction in 1877 and stretched well into the mid-1960s. But, as we have seen with the aggressive voter suppression strategies of the Republican Party, the 1965 Voting Rights Bill was only an ephemeral victory. And as we have seen in recent years, in a flood of videos of the police shooting and strangling black men, racist violence — often with deadly consequences — is alive and well in America.

While recent polling suggests support for Black Lives Matter (such as a Pew survey that found: “67% of Americans say they strongly (38%) or somewhat (29%) support the Black Lives Matter movement, while smaller shares (31%) oppose the movement”), this can’t be regarded as a game changer. Folks had better be prepared to get out and vote if this agenda is going to continue to advance. We must “elect government officials who are responsive to our demands.”

(‘All Black Lives Matter’ painting of Hollywood Boulevard as seen on ABC7 Los Angeles.)