40 voters, candidates, and parties
in one form or another by those working in all of the main intellectual traditions of
political science. Judge Learned Hand (1952, 93), for instance, considered these two
paradoxes in reflecting on his own behavior in his essay “Democracy: its presump-
tions and realities” delivered to the Federal Bar Association more than two decades
before Downs published his treatise. Hand wrote:
My vote is one of the most unimportant acts of my life; if I were to acquaint myself with the
matters on which it ought really to depend, if I were to try to get a judgment on which I was
willing to risk affairs of even the smallest moment, I should be doing nothing else, and that
seems a fatuous conclusion to a fatuous undertaking. Because, if all were done, for what after
all does my single voice count among so many? Surely I can play my part better in the society
where I chance to be, if I stick to my last, and leave governing to those who have the temerity
to accept the job.
I first came across reference to this essay not in a critique of the spatial model or
political economy, but in the classic book Voting, written by Bernard Berleson, Paul
Lazarsfeld, and William McPhee—three of the leading sociologists of the behavioral
revolution. They had no answer for Hand’s observation, except to describe “political
man” as somewhere between narrowly self-interested and purely other regarding.
That has become the received answer for Learned Hand’s observation among so-
ciologists and pluralist thinkers in political science, but it is not an explanation.
Discarding the political economy approach because it does not explain participation
seems fatuous—no social science model as yet truly explains participation. For his
part, Learned Hand took this paradox of democracy to be a failing of the traditional
theories of democracy.
It is not, then, a failure of the political economy approach in particular, but a
failure of social sciences generally that we do not yet have a coherent theory for why
individuals seeking their own needs will become informed, will vote, and, given that
they do vote, will vote in ways consistent with their interests and beliefs.
A second response to the paradoxes of rational ignorance and non-participation
is to take on the matter directly, beginning with the assumption that people are
self-interested. Generally speaking, the most promising approaches move away from
calculations of citizens’ personal returns or narrow self-interest, and introduce either
the consumption value of voting or mechanisms for coordinating individuals to
participate, especially groups.
Perhaps the first attempt to resolve the paradox of non-participation was that
of William Riker and Peter Ordeshook (1968). They add to the basic mathematical
formulation introduced by Downs a constant term that captures a citizen’s sense of
duty to vote. Individuals with sufficiently high duty will vote, and those with a low
sense of duty will not.
The introduction of citizen duty represents a fundamental shift in the logic away
from the view that people pursue their narrow self-interest, such as the maximization
of income. Citizen duty does the trick. It generates a prediction of positive turnout,
but it is not theoretically satisfying. The assumption offers little guidance for un-
derstanding who will vote and who will not vote, or who will devote themselves to