In 2019, a group of children confronted U.S. Sen. Dianne Feinstein on climate change. The children, members of the Sunrise Movement, pleaded with her to protect their future and their families in the face of climate collapse and human extinction by pledging support to the Green New Deal. After all, the children, not her, would be the ones who bear the brunt of the damages – the decision, though, still rested with Feinstein.
In the face of their concerns, Feinstein retorted: “‘cause there’s no way to pay for it,” “that resolution will not pass the senate” and “there’s reasons why I can’t.” It’s emblematic of one thing: our current democracy, at any scale, often fails to immediately side with morality.
Though there are endless reasons to criticize Feinstein’s unnecessarily angry response to a group of young, scared children, there was truth to her reaction underscored by restriction. There was no question that a Democratic – if you can call her that, really – Senator could propose such legislation in our political climate. Despite seemingly innocuous motives of wanting to – god forbid – protect humans, Feinstein is also beholden to people who do not share the same backbone. Indeed, youth activism in democracy faces a powerful foe: literally everyone else.
Since then, youth power has grown considerably. Protests and rallies last summer were frequently organized by young people trying to build a better future for themselves. Unfortunately, they run into the same problems as the children in the senator’s office; they need legitimacy — legitimacy from those who they often oppose.
Two roadblocks exist to legitimacy. First, activists have to fight to be taken seriously. It sounds simple — it’s not. Movements, especially those led by youth and People of Color, are often rejected on the basis of irrationality. People with power like Diane Feinstein can easily look in the face of children, regardless of their concerns, and lambast them for being young and emotional. The second roadblock is the matter of representation. Representatives answer to more people than just activists, meaning there are more than just one interest to respond to.
We run into these issues because our democracy is undergirded by a representative system. Exalted as the ideal democratic form in our constitution, representative democracy must answer to all of its citizens’ views. While it may have been a great idea for a homogenous pool of White men, America has stratified into ideological categories spread out over race, religion, age and more. Representatives now have to combat representatives who are backed by entirely distinct electorate demographics. They must choose practicality over justice.
A similar problem exists at the University of Oregon. Calls to democratize the board of trustees seems logical enough for the student body — we just want better representation — but the admin also faces the threat of donors, alumni and business deals. Representative democracy, in a heterogeneous world and university, renders us as just one piece of a much larger institutional puzzle.
It seems, then, as if youth activism, when it chooses to trudge through democratic processes rather than abandon them, is wistfully calling for a change in representation. We can look to the democratic ideology of Edmund Burke, a 19th-century political thinker and English representative, as their answer. Despite being written off by most political thinkers as a slippery slope into aristocracy or authoritarianism, another interpretation of Burke’s democratic belief is one where representatives are not the puppet of the majority, but instead, chosen for their “unbiased opinion, [their] mature judgment.”
In theory, youth activists’ disappointment with constant calls for unity by those they elect mirror that of Burke. They want a representative unbridled by immoral positions. They want choices to be made because they adhere to a moral code, not because white hegemony, corporations or interest groups want it.
This comparison, while purposely reductive, should point something out: The nature and desires of democracy are changing. We often focus the democratic gaze of change onto incoming and outgoing leaders, but what happens when changing leaders is not enough? Is our nation instead calling for a change in representation, not representatives?
Yes. It has to. It’s absurd to imagine that a democratic system engineered two centuries ago can buttress an entirely different populous than those who built it.
This has several implications for UO. Students want to be represented, but they want the representation to be conscientious of what we are: the backbone of the university. Yes, athletics, corporations and donors are important, but they are meaningless without students in the first place. Representation must change. Being hell-bent on “process” that is designed to ignore moral code in the face of other interest groups is precisely what leads youth to disillusionment with democracy in the first place. The process is what toppled the Pioneer statue outside of Deady Hall – impatience with representation that does not represent.
This, though, does not inherently guarantee change at UO or in the nation. Regardless of desire, we must recognize that our democracy is not necessarily malleable in structure, only in form. The children confronting Feinstein, youth movements in the last year and democratize UO, though, must take this moment to recognize their desires are shifting away from a representative form of democracy. It shows that while we do not often question the core of our democratic model, our goals may be better suited by another form – one that can be explained by reexamining our conception of Burke’s democracy.
If they are turning towards a Burkean framework — one where representatives are entrusted with their own judgement — perhaps there is a chance of progress. It opens a realm of possibility where leaders can act according to morals, not interests. Politicians, representatives and university administration can side with youth and students, who advocate for racial justice, without fear of retribution. Their allegiance must be to their judgement, not those that line their wallets.