The price of the stage
Donald Trump is more than an extraordinary political figure. His career raises a broader question: does electoral democracy reward those who seek power most intensely? And what might change if ordinary citizens, selected by lot rather than by election, played a greater role in shaping public policy?
There are images that become lodged in political memory. Donald Trump standing before a cheering crowd, arms outstretched. Donald Trump transforming criticism into another news cycle. Donald Trump commanding public attention with such ease that it appears almost instinctive.
Polarisation as a method
Whether admired or reviled, few would dispute that Trump has mastered the logic of the modern election campaign. Visibility is his political currency. Polarisation his method. His own personality his most powerful political message.
Yet perhaps Trump’s rise tells us less about Donald Trump himself than about the institution that elevated him.
Whoever persuades the electorate prevails
Democracies regard elections as the highest expression of political equality. Every citizen has one vote. Whoever persuades the electorate prevails. The principle feels self-evident. Historically, however, it is anything but.
For much of history, elections were not regarded as democracy’s defining institution. In classical Athens, many public offices were filled by lottery. Elections, by contrast, were often considered aristocratic because they tended to favour the wealthy, the famous and the socially prominent.
No neutral method of selection
The French political scientist Bernard Manin has argued that elections have never been a neutral method of selection. They systematically favour those who can attract attention, project confidence and persuade large audiences. In an age dominated by television, digital media and social platforms, that tendency has only intensified.
Donald Trump exemplifies this dynamic. Long before entering politics, he was a businessman, television personality and global brand. Millions recognised his face before they knew his political programme. His presidential campaigns seemed less a departure from celebrity culture than its continuation by other means.
This points towards a question that extends far beyond one individual.
Narcissts are not better leaders
For decades, personality psychologists have studied the traits associated with leadership. Their findings reveal a striking paradox.
The psychologist W. Keith Campbell summarises it succinctly: “Narcissistic individuals are often effective at attaining leadership positions - but they are not necessarily better leaders.”
The observation deserves careful interpretation. It does not imply that Donald Trump should be clinically diagnosed as a narcissist; responsible psychologists generally reject diagnosing public figures without personal examination. Instead, it highlights a structural pattern. Traits such as exceptional self-confidence, dominance, fearlessness and a strong desire for admiration may prove advantageous in electoral competition, regardless of how they translate into governing.
The organisational psychologist Robert Hogan has expressed the same idea from another perspective: “The qualities that help people get leadership jobs are often different from those required to perform them well.”
Democracy’s least discussed tensions
Perhaps this is one of representative democracy’s least discussed tensions.
Elections are contests. Success depends on attracting attention, inspiring supporters, defeating rivals and communicating certainty under constant public scrutiny. These are valuable skills. Yet they are not necessarily the same qualities required once the campaign ends: listening carefully, negotiating compromise, tolerating uncertainty or changing one’s mind in the light of better evidence.
From this perspective, Donald Trump appears less as an historical anomaly than as an especially visible example of a personality type particularly well suited to the incentives created by contemporary electoral politics.
“Elections are not a neutral selection mechanism“
It is precisely this observation that has prompted many democratic theorists to revisit an institution that is, paradoxically, both ancient and innovative: the citizens’ assembly selected by sortition.
The Belgian historian and writer David Van Reybrouck makes a deceptively simple point: “Elections are not a neutral selection mechanism. They reward people who want to be elected.”
The remark contains a profound insight. Individuals who spend years pursuing high political office are likely to differ psychologically from those who would never dream of seeing their face on a campaign poster. Not necessarily because they are morally better or worse, but because the institutional incentives attract different personalities.
Citizens’ assemblies fundamentally alter those incentives.
What makes citizens’ assemblies different
No one campaigns. No one builds a personal brand. No one raises campaign funds, cultivates media attention or competes for electoral popularity.
The psychology of participation changes accordingly. Within a Citizens’ Assembly, dominating the room offers few rewards. More valuable are the ability to listen, to weigh competing arguments, to revise one’s views and to work constructively with strangers.
The political theorist Hélène Landemore argues that randomly selected assemblies better reflect the cognitive diversity of society than elected legislatures. Bringing together citizens with different backgrounds, experiences and perspectives can improve collective judgement in ways that conventional electoral politics often struggles to achieve.
Reduction of polarisation
Similarly, the political scientist James Fishkin has shown through decades of research that carefully designed deliberative forums frequently reduce polarisation. When people are given reliable information, time to reflect and opportunities to engage respectfully with opposing views, they often reach more considered conclusions than the dynamics of election campaigns encourage.
None of this suggests that citizens’ assemblies should replace representative democracy. Governments must make decisions, exercise executive authority and remain accountable to voters.
But perhaps comparison reveals their greatest contribution.
Elections reward those who wish to lead
Elections reward those who wish to lead. Citizens’ assemblies empower those who never sought power in the first place.
Donald Trump is likely to remain a defining figure in debates about democracy for many years to come. Not only because of his presidency, but because his political career illuminates a deeper institutional question: what if democracy does not merely determine who governs, but also shapes which kinds of personalities are most likely to reach positions of power?
Rewarding different human qualities
The future of democracy may therefore depend not on abandoning elections, but on complementing them with institutions that reward different human qualities. Every institution selects for certain traits. Universities do. Corporations do. Democracies are no exception.
The challenge for the twenty-first century is not simply to choose better leaders, but to design democratic institutions that bring a broader range of citizens - and a broader range of virtues - into public life.
Note: This article was written with the help of AI
Image licence: CC BY-SA 2.0