The Democratic Disquiet: Diagnosing the Crisis of Confidence
- Tim Boatswain

- 2 days ago
- 4 min read

Recently, I wrote about the dangers to democracy of voter apathy: The Price of Apathy: Why Good People Must Not Look Away https://timboatswain.wixsite.com/website/post/the-price-of-apathy-why-good-people-must-not-look-away). There is an allied question, one of the most pressing of our time, about the practical implementation of democracy, and that is whether democracy is failing?
It is crucial, however, to clarify the diagnosis from the outset. It would be an exaggeration to claim that democracy is universally collapsing, but I think it is fair to say that across many established nations, it is enduring profound and simultaneous crises of both confidence and function. The sense of democratic decay is not an illusion; it is a reflection of interconnected pressures testing the system's foundations. I would argue there is not a single cause, but a web of mutually reinforcing challenges.
At the heart of the disquiet lies a broken economic promise. For generations, liberal democracy was paired with the expectation of rising prosperity and expanding opportunity. Since the 2008 financial crisis and the accelerating forces of globalisation, however, many in the middle and lower classes of advanced economies have faced wage stagnation, precarious employment, and a deepening perception that the system is engineered for a privileged elite. This economic disillusionment erodes the foundational belief that democracy delivers for the majority, rendering citizens susceptible to populist narratives that scapegoat "the system" or outsiders for their plight.
This economic anxiety is often fused with a potent cultural and identity backlash. Rapid social changes surrounding immigration, LGBTQ+ rights, and evolving racial demographics, while markers of progress for many, have left significant portions of populations feeling that their cultural identity, values, and social status are under threat. In response, they may turn to leaders who promise to restore a perceived lost social order, consciously trading democratic pluralism for a form of "protective" authoritarianism that pledges cultural security. We have seen how leaders like Putin, Erdogan, etc, who can be essentially described as dictators, have maintained power through “electoral authoritarianism” - where rigged elections and false democratic institutions are paraded, but the playing field is tilted so heavily that genuine competition becomes impossible.
The societal fractures in democracies are often amplified and weaponised within our digital ecosystem. Social media platforms, driven by algorithms that profit from engagement, routinely amplify content that is extreme, divisive, or misleading. This creates fragmented information spheres—echo chambers where citizens lack a shared basis of fact. The resulting hyperpolarisation, an "us vs. them" mentality, makes democratic compromise feel like betrayal and systematically undermines trust in fact-based institutions like the law, science and, especially, journalism. This environment is further poisoned by the adversaries of Western democracy, who exploit these tools to sow domestic discord, even using hybrid warfare, blending cyber and conventional tactics to influence politics and destabilise or damage countries' critical infrastructure.
Confronted with these seismic social and economic shifts, democratic governments often appear paralysed. The very systems of checks and balances designed to protect liberty can curdle into a dysfunctional "vetocracy," where obstructing action is easier than governing. This legislative gridlock leads to a failure to address existential challenges like climate change, crumbling infrastructure, and mass immigration, which feeds a deep public frustration with a perceived "do-nothing" government. This paralysis, in turn, fuels the rise of anti-liberal populism. Modern populist leaders expertly use democratic elections to gain power, only to systematically weaken democratic guardrails, checks and balances. They attack independent judiciaries, a free press*, and nonpartisan civil services, branding these institutions as enemies of "the people's will." This slow-rolling strategy, often called "autocratic legalism," represents a profound method of democratic backsliding from within.
The perceived slowness of democracy is further highlighted by the daunting complexity of 21st-century problems. Issues like pandemics, artificial intelligence regulation, and global financial stability are intrinsically transnational and technically complex. The slow, deliberative, and often messy process of democracy can appear inefficient and weak next to the perceived decisiveness of centralised, autocratic systems, challenging democracy's claim to be the most effective model for problem-solving; for example, in the time (19 years) it took to gain permission and build Terminal 5 at Heathrow, China built nearly 100 new airports.
Underpinning all these factors is a weakened civic fabric. The decline in participation in traditional community organisations—from churches to unions to local clubs—has led to diminished social capital and increased loneliness. Democracy requires a baseline of trust and social cohesion to function; without it, politics devolves into a bitter, zero-sum conflict. (Ihave already voiced my concern about electoral apathy and cynicism: https://timboatswain.wixsite.com/website/post/the-price-of-apathy-why-good-people-must-not-look-away)
Yet, despite these severe threats, it is premature to declare democracy’s global failure. Its inherent resilience should not be underestimated. To quote Winston Churchill, "No one pretends that democracy is perfect or all‑wise. Indeed, it has been said that democracy is the worst form of government except all those other forms that have been tried from time to time" (made in a speech to the House of Commons on 11 November 1947 - remembering he had lost the 1945 election)
In reality, democratic systems have repeatedly shown a capacity for self-correction through civic mobilisation, judicial action, and the foundational mechanism of free and fair elections. I would argue, despite appearances, that the integrity demonstrated in the 2020 U.S. election under unprecedented pressure is a testament to institutional stamina and constitutional integrity. Furthermore, the global desire for self-determination remains a powerful force, as evidenced by brave protests for freedom from Iran to Hong Kong.
Simultaneously, some democracies are innovating with practical fixes: experimenting with ranked-choice voting, convening citizen assemblies to tackle complex issues, developing digital transparency tools, and forging stronger regulations to curb online disinformation.
(Cf. Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD): “Innovative Citizen Participation and New Democratic Institutions” report from the OECD’s own open-access platform: https://www.oecd.org/en/publications.html )
In essence, democracy is not failing because of a fatal flaw in its ideal. The principle of self-government remains potent. Rather, its practice is being undermined by novel economic conditions, unprecedented technological disruptions, and skilled political actors who expertly exploit its institutional vulnerabilities. The central question for the 21st century, therefore, is not whether democracy will vanish, but whether democratic societies can muster the will to reform their institutions, regulate their digital spaces, and rebuild the civic solidarity required to meet these formidable challenges in time.
* According to Reporters Without Borders (RSF), Erdogan's Turkey has, since 2016, arrested over 230 journalists: so far, 131 have been imprisoned, 5 have been killed, and 77 have been convicted of “insulting the president.”




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