I’m not voting so I can keep complaining

Complaining. It’s America’s true, favorite past-time. We like complaining so much that we complain about finding the time and energy to create new things for us to complain about—Ugh, what an annoying sentence!

To echo the late George Carlin, I don’t vote for two reasons: 1) it’s meaningless, and 2) because I believe if you vote, you have no right to complain.

“People like to twist that around, I know,” Carlin adds, “They say, ‘Well, if you don’t vote, then you have no right to complain,’ but where’s the logic in that?” He continues:

If you vote, and you elect dishonest, incompetent people, and they get into office and screw everything up, well, you are responsible for what they have done. You caused the problem. You voted them in. You have no right to complain.
I—on the other hand—who did not vote, who in fact did not even leave the house on Election Day, am in no way responsible for what these people have done and have every right to complain as loud as I want about the mess you created that I had nothing to do with.

So, I’m not voting so I can keep my precious right to complain. This post is just a complaint to pro-voting advocates who try to convince me to give up my right to complain. We’ll address complaining about complaining in a new complaint podcast right after these commercials...

… All jokes aside, while there is plenty of truth to be found in Carlin’s message, I don’t vote mainly for his first line of reasoning—it’s meaningless. But I have my own reasons for coming to that conclusion…

[Reading disclaimer] If you have no time for complex arguments, or just don’t like to read, please scroll past all these nonsensical words to the TL;DR at the bottom, which has been perfectly crafted for your out-of-context Twitter responses. Otherwise, grab a cup of tea or coffee and enjoy the ride…

America is not a democracy

Get the idea out of your head that we live in a democracy. Before you can understand my point, you have to step into my shoes for a minute and pretend that this boring video about government systems is enough to convince you that we live in a constitutional republic, not a democracy.

And honestly, we’re closer to an oligarchy than most people think. But for accuracy’s sake, I learned a new word that I’d like to share, which I think is a fitting definition for what America’s government has become—an anocracy.

An anocracy is my perfect term for America’s brand of government regime.

Now, let’s assume that it’s a fact that America is not a democracy based on a mutually accepted understanding of the spectrum of government regimes.

Basic political spectrum of governmental systems

“Why don’t you vote?”

Well, I don’t vote because it is meaningless. With the flaws of the Electoral College, the catch-all two-party system, unrestricted corporate campaign contributions, special interest lobbyists, and—at the local level—gerrymandering and redistricting, why would you think your vote matters?

If your vote was a key factor to ensuring our democracy (like many believe), then what would it mean if you continued participating in a sham democracy? And on the reverse side, if a single vote was a key factor to ensuring democracy — or a key factor to ensuring “the evil candidate” doesn’t get elected, as everyone voting in this election thinks — then how does our country continue to function when so many people don’t vote?

Conversations about this topic usually end here because no one wants to admit they might be participating in a sham, and I find that most voters are unwilling to admit that America is not a democracy. But I won’t waste time time trying to argue my point. I just put on my tinfoil hat and walk away mumbling about purple aliens controlling our bowel movements.

‘In politics, nothing happens by accident. If it happens, you can bet it was planned that way.’ — Franklin D. Roosevelt

You don’t have true choice

When you consider that less than 10 percent of people in this country gave us our two choices for president this year, it’s akin to a 2004 South Park episode when the school is forced to vote for a new mascot.

Each square represents one million people in the United States. (screenshot from New York Times website)

In the episode “Douche and Turd,” the main characters decide to prank the election for a new school mascot by telling everyone not to vote for the choices given, but to write in a different nominee—Giant Douche. But one character breaks from this plan, and runs with his idea, which is telling everyone at school to write in Turd Sandwich instead of Giant Douche.

The end result? Giant Douche and Turd Sandwich became the school’s only two choices. The metaphor’s commentary is a direct jab at our current political predicament—two groups (and their supporters) who represent a tiny fraction of the country are completely responsible for your only two choices on the ballot. Every year.

‘Presidents are selected not elected’ — Franklin D. Roosevelt

What about third parties? In the current political climate, they don’t stand a chance. This is why the longest sitting independent senator in Congress decided to join the two-party team at the start of the presidential race.

This claim that third-party candidates “don’t stand a chance” is often echoed by people who accost you about your duty to vote, insisting that you vote for a candidate that “has a chance to win.” In the same breath, these people chastise your third-party choice with the claim that you’re “wasting your vote.”

What’s more, when the election stakes are considered to be extremely high, they tell you it’s your duty to vote for the lesser evil—or else you’re passively enabling evil to thrive, which is a ludicrous notion because if you’re voting for the lesser evil, you’re still voting for evil.

You have no moral obligation to vote

It’s is not my responsibility to stop people from wronging me, it’s theirs. In what world does it makes sense to put the onus of “stopping evil” on the voter? In a parallel circumstance, this would be deemed victim blaming.

Ironically, people who preach about the importance of voting seem constantly at the ready to drown you in a gush of vitriol for the mere consideration of voting for [insert Giant Douche or Turd Sandwich here]. No one really wants you to vote, unless you’re voting for their candidate.

And if you did had a moral obligation to vote, what principle would that duty be founded upon? Civic duty? The duty of a “good” citizen? Do you fail your civic duty, or cease being a “good” citizen, if you don’t vote?

Whatever the principle, the duty to vote is categorically indefensible. For now, we can skip the examination of what civic duty is, or what it means to be a good citizen—those are arguments for another day.

But if you claim that we always have this inherent duty to vote, it assumes there is never a circumstance in which you might have an obligation not to vote. And I can think of at least one: If you believe the election is a sham, then would it not be your duty to abstain?—lest you validate a fraudulent system that isn’t worthy.

If you were trapped in a soundproof box, with no chance that your screams would be heard, would you try to yell for help? What if someone told you it’s your duty to yell?

America votes inside of a soundproof box. I’m casting my vote outside of it.

“Supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy’s resistance without fighting.” — Sun Tzu

How I choose to use my voice

Some people will tell your that your vote is your voice and you somehow “lose your voice” when you don’t vote. And some say it’s an insult to our troops when I refuse to vote.

I respond by telling them I served this country (my shaggy appearance often fools many pro-voting advocates who are prone to make superficial judgments). “I drove tanks in the Army.” And besides voting, I ask, what have you done to exercise your voice for this country? And berating people for their point of view through social media posts doesn’t count.

Your “right to vote” is not mandatory; it is the freedom to choose to vote.

I use my voice, my talents, my energy trying to affect real change. Real change, to me, is not possible with our current political system because your vote does not matter in this country (we’ll need a few constitutional amendments and proportional representation before it does matter). Your vote may have mattered in the early days of America, when being a politician wasn’t a career, but I don’t know.

I do know that real change occurs in society through powerful acts. People are motivated by heart, not so much by pen and signature. Neither Gandhi nor MLK passed a single law, but they both affected change on a massive level through their peaceful noncompliance with the status quo.

‘One man with courage is a majority.’ — Thomas Jefferson

There are many ways you can exercise your voice without voting. One way is by setting legal precedents through our judicial system. I’ll concede the fact that our justice system is rarely fair (and not much better than the voting system). How could it be with humans in charge? But while humans are fallible, that is both the disadvantage and the advantage of using the court system. If you think the system is broken, then slip between the cracks.

My point is that, compared to your vote, you stand a better chance of pushing real change through exemplary action or the court system. This doesn’t happen overnight. It takes a considerable amount of time and effort—I know because I fought the law and won, but it took two years (and I had to take it to the appellate level). In the end, I made important case law.

However, most voters do not care to put in this level of civic commitment, nor have the desire to. The excuse is often “too much time and money,” but I have found where there’s a will, there’s a way. If something is important to you, you make the time.

This is how I choose to put my money where my mouth is.

‘Be the change we wish to see in the world.’ — Gandhi

Vote for yourself

Our national election system is a farce. A revolution — political or not — starts from within. The changes you want to see in the world have to be made at the local level first. And by local, I mean you. Then, and only then, can change begin on a collective level.

Too many voters rely upon the false assumption that one candidate is going to solve all their problems or, at the very least, won’t make them worse. But politicians don’t care about fixing your problems. They don’t even care about fixing their own problems.

Carlin’s thoughts on politicians: Everybody complains about politicians. Everybody says, “They suck!” Well, where do people think these politicians come from? They don’t fall out of the sky. They don’t pass through a membrane from another reality.
They come from American parents, and American families, American homes, American schools, American churches, American businesses, and American universities. And they’re elected by American citizens.
This is the best we can do, folks. This is what we have to offer. It’s what our system produces. Garbage in, garbage out. If you have selfish, ignorant citizens, you’re going to get selfish, ignorant leaders.

We’ve got a combative government system that resists change on nearly every level. This is what it was built to do, people. This is the system working. People aren’t looking for the truth in presidential elections, they’re looking for a version of the truth that makes them feel safe or validated in their belief of what is true. This is what we’ve been trained to do. It’s how we were raised.

‘People choose the facts they want now.’ — Will McAvoy

Elections will always be between a douche and a turd

Coming back to the South Park episode, one of the main characters decides he’s going to skip voting for the school mascot. He complains about his lack of choices and says he doesn’t see the point in voting between a douche or a turd.

For his willful defiance of voting, the town charter demands he be banished—an exaggerated social commentary on the type of ridicule and disdain people with non-voting stances face from the majority of society.

By the end of the episode, another character enlightens the non-voting main character to the futility of complaining about your voting options:

“Don’t you know? It’s always between a giant douche and a turd sandwich. Nearly every election since the beginning of time has been between some douche and some turd. They’re the only people who suck up enough to make it that far in politics.”
My election feels: “I just don’t understand why ever four years, you people freak out over whether to vote for a Giant Douche or a Turd Sandwich.”

That’s it. I’m done. But I’ll let the immortal words of George Carlin take it home:

So, I know a little later on this year, you’re gonna have another one of those really swell presidential elections that you like so much. You’ll enjoy yourselves, it’ll be a lot of fun.
I’m sure as soon as the election is over, your country will improve immediately.
As for me, I’ll be home on that day doing essentially the same thing as you; the only difference is when I get finished masturbating, I’m gonna have a little something to show for it, folks.

TL;DR: Voting is pointless, and you’re a fool if you think your vote changes anything.