Can we do democracy more … democratically?

In the ongoing debate over the proposed Fast-track Approvals Bill (also called the “one-stop shop consenting and permitting scheme”), participants on both sides have wielded arguments about democracy, but what exactly do they mean?
Ministers of the Government, who in the original draft of the bill were authorised to both send the project proposals to the expert panel *and* then consent (or reject them) regardless of the panel’s recommendations, argue that electoral success bestowed them with a democratic mandate to make decisions. In contrast, hundreds of submitters have argued the concentration of power in the hands of the ministers is profoundly undemocratic.
So, whose interpretation of democracy is correct? Why have the competing interpretations of the (somewhat abstract) idea of democracy become so central in the debate on roads, wind farms and mines? And is there a better, even more democratic way, altogether – one that supports the participation of everyday people while also ensuring decisions are made without too much delay?
Since the World War II, a minimalist conception of democracy, one that posited that democracy equals regular, competitive elections has had considerable support. In this view, elected politicians should be left alone to do their job and the public – who aren’t interested in the messy job of politics anyway – can go on living their lives until the next elections, when they get the opportunity to keep the current lot of politicians in the job or get rid of them.
At the same time, supporters of a more comprehensive view of democracy proposed that for a democratic society to thrive, people must exercise the ‘democratic muscle’ much more frequently than once every three or four years. From the 1960s onwards, many countries introduced mechanisms through which people could participate in decisions that affected them directly: changes in land use, interventions in the environment and city planning. These democratic developments were a response to the environmental damage and what has been described as infrastructural violence experienced primarily by the lower socioeconomic strata, whose neighbourhoods were destroyed during the postwar modernisation and rebuild.
In the late 1980s, such participatory institutions were also introduced in New Zealand. They came out of concerns over sustainable development and a desire for a more transparent and responsive government and enshrined in the new Resource Management Act and Local Government Act.
They manifested as consultative processes, from town halls and submissions to Boards of Inquiry and the Environment Court. Yet rather than allowing for a variety of voices, they have been often captured by the wealthiest, best-resourced and most confident people. Furthermore, the relative power of the public input received through participatory channels versus decisions made by elected politicians has remained unclear.
An outcome of participatory mechanisms in New Zealand and internationally has been slowing down consenting. This is a deliberate and crucial feature of the process: the intention was always to slow down the process to allow a thorough consideration of the environmental and social impact.
However, the world is now in a period comparable to the post-World War II rebuild: meeting the challenge of climate mitigation and adaptation requires building solar and wind farms at unprecedented scale; replacing roads with electric trains, walkways and cycle paths; building cities and towns that are resilient to storms, heatwaves and energy supply breakdowns; (re)opening mines that supply minerals required for energy transition.
Further, decades of poor investment in housing means that that, too, needs quick attention. Yet, going back in time and stripping the democratic process to its bare minimalist bones is not the answer. In addition to being undemocratic and open to corruption, it may also lead to qualitatively worse decisions. Research has shown that the decisions made by diverse groups of people are overall better – more considered – than those made by a homogenous group, even if the latter consisted of highly qualified people. Democracy, as it turns out, is not only fairer but also smarter than authoritarianism.
So, what is the answer? Over the past several years our team at Koi Tū at the University of Auckland has been exploring the potential of deliberative democracy, a field of theory and practice that places deliberation or reasoned debate at the centre of democratic practice. Because deliberation in a large group is difficult, empirical deliberative democracy uses a sample of the population usually selected through a process of random selection, known as sortition or civic lottery, to stand for their fellow citizens. To ensure that deliberations draw on evidence as well as lived experience, participants are equipped with access to expertise, as needed. Most importantly, they are given time to discuss and find their shared ground.
Internationally, deliberative processes have been convened around questions that involve trade-offs, draw on values as well evidence and require weighing options rather than simple yes/no answers. These questions included problems of city planning and infrastructure.
In our first deliberative process, we invited a randomly selected group of Aucklanders to discuss what should be the next source of water for Auckland after 2040. None of them was a water expert, yet all came with knowledge and experience that helped illuminate the problem: from immigrants from water-scarce parts of the world to tangata whenua with deep connections to the land and water of Aotearoa. The youngest participant was a microbiology student; the oldest had worked in consenting. All felt they had a stake in Auckland’s future and felt responsible for making the best possible decision for Aucklanders who were not in the room.
Their final decision was surprising but made a lot of sense: direct recycled wastewater was the least costly source and had the lowest environmental impact. After that, we worked on several more issues facing Aucklanders. Each time, the people showed themselves capable of meeting others halfway – or, rather, with a decision that everyone can ‘live with’ – and coming up with practical solutions that considered social and environmental impact alongside economic costs and benefits. It made it clear to us that, free from the pressures of short election cycles faced by politicians, citizens can think long-term and appreciate the impact of our decisions on future generations.
We don’t think deliberative democracy is the panacea for all democracy’s problems. However, rather than cutting out democratic processes because those tried in the past have been shown not to work for present-day conditions, we say that we need to innovate and come up with new democratic institutions for the problems of the 21st century.
For infrastructural projects, a well-designed deliberative process where a representative group of the population has the time to consider long-term costs and benefits could be the right solution that combines the pressure to decide with the commitment to democracy.