A Handbook for Political Culture, or How to Help Democracy Survive 2024

The latest public opinion polls show that optimism is returning among Slovenians. That’s a lovely and important development—if perhaps a bit unexpected. Truth be told, the threshold for optimism in this poll was set quite low. To be counted as someone looking cheerfully toward the future, it was enough to believe that life wouldn’t get worse. This reminded me of the famous Balkan definition of optimism and pessimism: one person says, “Things are so bad they can’t get any worse,” and another replies, “Oh yes, they absolutely can.” I’ve never been entirely sure which one is the optimist and which the pessimist, but in today’s world, it hardly matters. We’re somewhere in that range.

In my view, the year that just ended gave us few reasons for genuine optimism. We found no real solutions to any of the major global challenges—from climate change and the need for humane, rational migration management, to economic troubles, social injustice, and a digital transformation that sometimes feels on the verge of spinning out of control. One bloody war was joined by another. Despair over the mess we’re in is fueling the rise of dangerous political clowns, would-be authoritarians, and fear- and hate-mongering opportunists. If anyone can look forward to 2024 with optimism, it’s them.

This year, several important elections await us—most notably the European elections in early June and the U.S. presidential election in November.

Somewhere between the European and American elections, we’ll also mark a curious historical event: the 860th anniversary of the Erfurt latrine tragedy. On July 26, 1184, King Henry VI organized a peace conference in the German city of Erfurt. During the session, the floor collapsed under the weight of the assembled delegates. Unfortunately, they had gathered above a latrine, and sixty of them drowned in—you know what. I don’t mention this as a parallel to any current political event (and certainly not to wish any such fate on today’s politicians), but it’s a noteworthy exception to the common folk belief that politicians merely stir—you know what—without ever falling into it themselves.

But back to the present, where, if nothing else, we are literally safe from falling into latrines. Figuratively, though, we’re constantly walking right above one. And every time we stomp our feet in rage instead of thinking clearly, we risk breaking another support beam.

So what can we do? Are we really so powerless amid all this—you know what?

People typically blame politicians for all crises and problems. And not without reason—they’re the ones holding the scissors and the cloth. But we often forget that in democracies, it is we who hand them those tools. As Thomas Jefferson put it, the government you elect is the government you deserve.

Yes, people often vote in protest—angry and disillusioned by broken promises and the inability of those in power to solve problems. The frustration is understandable, and often justified. But it makes no sense to, in a fit of rage, vote for those even less prepared or capable of addressing the challenges we face. If you need an outlet for your anger, buy a punching bag. But in the voting booth, it’s better to use your brain.

Of course, that’s easier said than done. Even though there are indicators, parameters, and methodologies that could help us make more rational choices and actions—in the interest of democracy and our future.

Paradoxically, we started building democratic literacy for children first. Far be it from me to say kids don’t need democratic education, but it’s objectively difficult when we’re teaching children values and behaviors that are completely contradicted by the adults around them.

Years ago, when a former president of Slovenia invited me—for the first and last time—to one of his consultations (on hate speech), he gave me 30 seconds at the end to present the Reference Framework of Competences for Democratic Culture. This is a simple and effective educational method developed by the Council of Europe, modeled after the Common European Framework of Reference for Languages. (Yes, the one we all cite when lying about our language skills in job interviews—Spanish? C1! Olé!)

I explained that the democratic culture framework is a methodology for teaching kids the values and behaviors we’d want to see in politicians. By the way, that former president and I never saw eye to eye on how to tackle hate speech. Maybe it was one of those “intentional mistakes” he later said he made to avoid appearing perfect. Those of you who read me regularly will recall I’ve often been critical of him, but I must admit—in this regard, he was very successful.

The framework divides democratic competencies into four groups:

Values – Respect for human dignity and human rights, appreciation of cultural diversity, respect for democracy, justice, equality, and the rule of law.

Attitudes and Skills – Independent learning, analytical and critical thinking, listening and observing, empathy, adaptability, language skills, cooperation, and conflict resolution.

Openness – Openness to different cultures, worldviews, beliefs, habits; respect and responsibility.

Knowledge and Critical Understanding – From self-awareness and self-understanding to understanding the world around us.

Each competency includes age-appropriate learning goals and assessment methods. There are handbooks for various age groups—but not, unfortunately, for the group that needs it most: politicians.

Imagine a society governed by people—whether in power or in opposition—who possess empathy, respect for human dignity, justice, and cultural diversity. Politicians capable of critical thinking and self-awareness. Politicians who can not only speak but listen—and hear. Who take responsibility for their actions and mistakes, even those they make intentionally, just so no one thinks they’re perfect.

Given the direction the world is spinning, that may seem like a fantasy. But it becomes painfully clear how far we are from it when you assess Donald Trump—or his countless copycats sprouting like mushrooms everywhere—by the standards above.

Still, in democracies, we voters retain the power to create change. Don’t listen to those who claim “they’re all the same.” They’re not. Even if no one is perfect.

Make your own handbook. Use it first to assess yourself—your values, your knowledge, your actions. Be demanding and critical of your own democratic competencies. Feeling empathy only for yourself and your own tribe doesn’t count. And if you reflexively take the opposite stance of everything you hear from scientists, doctors, or newspapers—without reflection—you’re not a critical thinker. You’re a fool. No offense.

Then apply the same standards to the people you vote for. This has nothing to do with ideology. Vote left, right, or center—green, yellow, red, or purple. Just make sure the candidates possess at least as many democratic competencies as the average first-grader is expected to have.

If that sounds like too much work, and you’d rather let loose your frustration at the next election—give the middle finger to the world and especially yourself—don’t complain when the consequences hit you. Because by ignoring the competencies and values democracy needs, you’re not just dragging yourself into the—you know what—but all of us.

And with that, I wish you a Happy New Year. Olé.