The word democracy comes from two Greek words: demos, “the people,” and kratos, “power” or “rule.” Democracy is rule by the people. That sounds simple, but almost every part of the phrase raises a hard question. Who counts as “the people”? What does it mean for them to “rule”? Over which decisions, and how?
Three hard questions
- Who are the people? Every democracy in history has drawn a line around its citizens. Ancient Athens excluded women, slaves and foreigners. Many modern democracies once excluded the poor, women or racial minorities. Today debates continue about the voting age, noncitizen residents and people living abroad.
- What does ruling mean? In some systems citizens vote on laws directly. In most, they choose representatives who make the laws. Is a country democratic if its people only choose leaders every few years and have little say in between?
- Over what? Should a majority be able to decide anything at all, or are some things, like freedom of speech or a fair trial, off limits even to a large majority?
Thin and thick definitions
Scholars often sort definitions into two families.
A thin (or minimal) definition focuses on elections. The economist Joseph Schumpeter, writing in the 1940s, described democracy as a method in which leaders gain the power to decide by competing for the people's votes. On this view, a country is democratic if it holds free, competitive elections and losers hand over power peacefully. The strength of a thin definition is that it is clear and easy to check.
A thick (or substantive) definition adds more: protected rights, a free press, the rule of law, independent courts and real opportunities for ordinary people to take part. The political scientist Robert Dahl listed conditions such as freedom of expression, access to alternative sources of information and the freedom to form organizations, arguing that elections mean little without them. The strength of a thick definition is that it captures what people actually value about democracy; the weakness is that it can blur the line between democracy and every other good thing a society might want.
A principle and a practice
It helps to see democracy in two ways at once. As a principle, it rests on the idea of political equality: each citizen's interests and judgment count, and no one is born with a right to rule others. As a practice, it is a set of institutions (elections, legislatures, courts, parties, a free press) that try to put that principle to work. The principle stays fairly constant; the practices vary widely and are always being argued over.
Abraham Lincoln's phrase from the Gettysburg Address (1863), “government of the people, by the people, for the people,” captures three distinct ideas: power comes from the people, is exercised by them, and serves their interests. A government can score well on one and poorly on another.
Why defend democracy at all?
Defenders give two kinds of reasons. Intrinsic reasons say democracy is right in itself because it treats people as equals and respects their freedom to shape the rules they live under. Instrumental reasons say democracy tends to produce better results: it lets people remove bad leaders without violence, it gathers information from many sources, and governments that must face voters have reasons to serve them. Critics, as we will see, have challenged both kinds of reasons since ancient times.
A note on approach
This course presents each idea as its best defenders would, then sets out the main criticisms. Democracy is a living argument, and understanding the argument well is the first step to taking part in it.
Worked example: is this country a democracy?
Imagine a country called Veloria. Every five years it holds national elections. Several parties run, ballots are secret, and votes are counted fairly. The governing party has won the last four elections, each time with about 55 percent of the vote.
Now add some details. Most television channels are owned by friends of the governing party. Opposition rallies need permits, which are often refused. A popular journalist who criticized the government was charged with tax offenses and is awaiting trial. Courts usually rule for the government, but not always.
By a thin definition, Veloria looks democratic: elections are competitive and counted fairly, and the opposition could in principle win. By a thick definition, the picture is darker: citizens cannot easily hear alternative views or organize, so the elections are less free than they look.
Many political scientists would call Veloria a hybrid regime, somewhere between a full democracy and an authoritarian state. The exercise shows why definitions matter. People who use thin definitions tend to see Veloria's elections as proof of democracy; those who use thick ones see a system tilted in advance. Neither side is simply wrong. They are measuring different things, and a careful citizen should ask which one is being measured whenever someone calls a country democratic or undemocratic, and whether the claim would still hold under the other definition.
