Sally didn't tell it by the book. Finally Major Reid cut him off.
"Bring a summary to class tomorrow, three thousand words. Mr. Salomon, can
you give me a reason -- not historical nor theoretical but practical -- why
the franchise is today limited to discharged veterans?"
"Uh, because they are picked men, sir. Smarter."
"Preposterous!"
"Sir?"
"Is the word too long for you? I said it was a silly notion. Service
men are not brighter than civilians. In many cases civilians are much more
intelligent. That was the sliver of justification underlying the attempted
coup d'etat just before the Treaty of New Delhi, the so-called `Revolt of
the Scientists': let the intelligent elite run things and you'll have
utopia. It fell flat on its foolish face of course. Because the pursuit of
science, despite its social benefits, is itself not a social virtue; its
practitioners can be men so self-centered as to be lacking in social
responsibility. I've given you a hint, Mister; can you pick it up?"
Sally answered, "Uh, service men are disciplined, sir."
Major Reid was gentle with him. "Sorry. An appealing theory not backed
up by facts. You and I are not permitted to vote as long as we remain in the
Service, nor is it verifiable that military discipline makes a man
self-disciplined once he is out; the crime rate of veterans is much like
that of civilians. And you have forgotten that in peacetime most veterans
come from non-combatant auxiliary services and have not been subjected to
the full rigors of military discipline; they have merely been harried,
overworked, and endangered -- yet their votes count."
Major Reid smiled. "Mr. Salomon, I handed you a trick question. The
practical reason for continuing our system is the same as the practical
reason for continuing anything: It works satisfactorily.
"Nevertheless, it is instructive to observe the details. Throughout
history men have labored to place the sovereign franchise in hands that
would guard it well and use it wisely, for the benefit of all. An early
attempt was absolute monarchy, passionately defended as the `divine right of
kings.'
"Sometimes attempts were made to select a wise monarch, rather man
leave it up to God, as when the Swedes picked a Frenchman, General
Bernadotte, to rule them. The objection to this is that the supply of
Bernadottes is limited.
"Historic examples range from absolute monarch to utter anarch; mankind
has tried thousands of ways and many more have been proposed, some weird in
the extreme such as the antlike communism urged by Plato under the
misleading title The Republic. But the intent has always been moralistic: to
provide stable and benevolent government.
"All systems seek to achieve this by limiting franchise to those who
are believed to have the wisdom to use it justly. I repeat `all systems';
even the so-called `unlimited democracies' excluded from franchise not less
than one quarter of their populations by age, birth, poll tax, criminal
record, or other."
Major Reid smiled cynically. "I have never been able to see how a
thirty-year old moron can vote more wisely than a fifteen-year-old genius .
. . but that was the age of the `divine right of the common man.' Never
mind, they paid for their folly.
"The sovereign franchise has been bestowed by all sorts of rules --
place of birth, family of birth, race, sex, property, education, age,
religion, et cetera. All these systems worked and none of them well. All
were regarded as tyrannical by many, all eventually collapsed or were
overthrown.
"Now here are we with still another system . . . and our system works
quite well. Many complain but none rebel; personal freedom for all is
greatest in history, laws are few, taxes are low, living standards are as
high as productivity permits, crime is at its lowest ebb. Why? Not because
our voters are smarter than other people; we've disposed of that argument.
Mr. Tammany can you tell us why our system works better than any used by our
ancestors?"
I don't know where Clyde Tammany got his name; I'd take him for a
Hindu. He answered, "Uh, I'd venture to guess that it's because the electors
are a small group who know that the decisions are up to them . . . so they
study the issues."
"No guessing, please; this is exact science. And your guess is wrong.
The ruling nobles of many another system were a small group fully aware of
their grave power. Furthermore, our franchised citizens are not everywhere a
small fraction; you know or should know that the percentage of citizens
among adults ranges from over eighty per cent on Iskander to less than three
per cent in some Terran nations yet government is much the same everywhere.
Nor are the voters picked men; they bring no special wisdom, talent, or
training to their sovereign tasks. So what difference is there between our
voters and wielders of franchise in the past? We have had enough guesses;
I'll state the obvious: Under our system every voter and officeholder is a
man who has demonstrated through voluntary and difficult service that he
places the welfare of the group ahead of personal advantage.
"And that is the one practical difference."
"He may fail in wisdom, he may lapse in civic virtue. But his average
performance is enormously better than that of any other class of rulers in
history."
Major Reid paused to touch the face of an old-fashioned watch,
"reading" its hands. "The period is almost over and we have yet to determine
the moral reason for our success in governing ourselves. Now continued
success is never a matter of chance. Bear in mind that this is science, not
wishful thinking; the universe is what it is, not what we want it to be. To
vote is to wield authority; it is the supreme authority from which all other
authority derives -- such as mine to make your lives miserable once a day.
Force, if you will! -- the franchise is force, naked and raw, the Power of
the Rods and the Ax. Whether it is exerted by ten men or by ten billion,
political authority is force."
"But this universe consists of paired dualities. What is the converse
of authority? Mr. Rico."
He had picked one I could answer. "Responsibility, sir."
"Applause. Both for practical reasons and for mathematically verifiable
moral reasons, authority and responsibility must be equal -- else a
balancing takes place as surely as current `flows between points of unequal
potential. To permit irresponsible authority is to sow disaster; to hold a
man responsible for anything he does not control is to behave with blind
idiocy. The unlimited democracies were unstable because their citizens were
not responsible for the fashion in which they exerted their sovereign
authority . . . other than through the tragic logic of history. The unique
`poll tax' that we must pay was unheard of. No attempt was made to determine
whether a voter was socially responsible to the extent of his literally
unlimited authority. If he voted the impossible, the disastrous possible
happened instead -- and responsibility was then forced on him willy-nilly
and destroyed both him and his foundationless temple."
"Superficially, our system is only slightly different; we have
democracy unlimited by race, color, creed, birth, wealth, sex, or
conviction, and anyone may win sovereign power by a usually short and not
too arduous term of service -- nothing more than a light workout to our
cave-man ancestors. But that slight difference is one between a system that
works, since it is constructed to match the facts, and one that is
inherently unstable. Since sovereign franchise is the ultimate in human
authority, we insure that all who wield it accept the ultimate in social
responsibility -- we require each person who wishes to exert control over
the state to wager his own life -- and lose it, if need be -- to save the
life of the state. The maximum responsibility a human can accept is thus
equated to the ultimate authority a human can exert. Yin and yang, perfect
and equal."
The Major added, "Can anyone define why there has never been revolution
against our system? Despite the fact that every government in history has
had such? Despite the notorious fact that complaints are loud and
unceasing?"
One of the older cadets took a crack at it. "Sir, revolution is
impossible."
"Yes. But why?"
"Because revolution -- armed uprising -- requires not only
dissatisfaction but aggressiveness. A revolutionist has to be willing to
fight and die -- or he's just a parlor pink. If you separate out the
aggressive ones and make them the sheep dogs, the sheep will never give you
trouble."
"Nicely put! Analogy is always suspect, but that one is close to the
facts. Bring me a mathematical proof tomorrow. Time for one more question --
you ask it and I'll answer. Anyone?"
"Uh, sir, why not go -- well, go the limit? Require everyone to serve
and let everybody vote?"
"Young man, can you restore my eyesight?"
"Sir? Why, no, sir!"
"You would find it much easier than to instill moral virtue -- social
responsibility -- into a person who doesn't have it, doesn't want it, and
resents having the burden thrust on him. This is why we make it so hard to
enroll, so easy to resign. Social responsibility above the level of family,
or at most of tribe, requires imagination -- devotion, loyalty, all the
higher virtues -- which a man must develop himself; if he has them forced
down him, he will vomit them out. Conscript armies have been tried in the
past. Look up in the library the psychiatric report on brainwashed prisoners
in the so called `Korean War,' circa 1950 -- the Mayer Report. Bring an
analysis to class." He touched his watch. "Dismissed."
Major Reid gave us a busy time.