Voting Alone: The Impact of the Coronavirus on American Civic Engagement
Members of Wisconsin National Guard processing ballots for the 7th Congressional District Special Election in Maine, Wisconsin. Photo by Wisconsin National Guard.
BOWLING ALONE
When Robert Putnam published his 1995 essay, “Bowling Alone: America’s Declining Social Capital,” which concluded that civic participation had been declining for the last half-century, the national reaction was one of substantial scrutiny. His conclusion challenged the foundation of American identity: political participation. Its publication prompted a barrage of rebuttals, many arguing that it was not a lack of engagement that characterized modern citizenship, but rather novel forms of engagement. As the coronavirus threatens America’s historic understanding of civic participation, the country is again faced with a shifting understanding of political engagement.
The consequences of the coronavirus pandemic lend themselves to a broader discussion on the necessary modification of our national relationship with civic engagement. A central question surfaces as Americans attempt to reevaluate their role in national politics during a time of widespread emergency: when our nation emerges from this period of anxiety and unease, how will our relationship engaging with governmental institutions and political systems have changed? And, like so many innate aspects of American society, from physical gatherings to the attendance of school, how will the role of engagement be forever changed in the wake of COVID-19?
Unequivocally, civic engagement is an important thread in our collective American tapestry. It is a bedrock principle in our democracy, and was an integral part of our society well before Putnam published his work in the late 20th century. Alexis de Tocqueville’s early writings about the American experience included the importance of civic organizations, as an example of civic engagement existing from the onset of a collective American society. Similarly, as defined by the American Democracy Project, “a morally and civically responsible individual recognizes himself or herself as a member of a larger social fabric… such an individual is willing to see the moral and civic dimensions of issues, to make and justify informed moral and civic judgments, and to take action when appropriate.” It is a concept, by definition, that feels inarguably patriotic. Yet, as America attempts to steady itself upon ground reshaped by the current health crisis, its historic precedents of in-person voting and physical civic engagement have been compromised. Similarly, the broader inquiry that questions American roles in civic engagement remains. As we reconsider our civic responsibilities from relative physical isolation, we must preserve our ability to practice civic engagement.
VOTING
Broadly speaking, there is a way in which United States citizens can exercise their civic duties, even within the confines of their own homes: voting. As evidenced by the recent election in Wisconsin, the march toward accessible voting has been threatened by the pandemic. Ballot boxes and registration drives have become another victim of the coronavirus.
In turning the focus of a debate on civic engagement to the act of voting, it is crucial that one considers civic responsibility as a principle only partially defined by elections. Civic health is further defined by political trust and conduct focused on the moral condition of society. And, although it is clear that certain forms of electoral participation have diminished in recent years, there is likely explanation for this. There exists a prevailing American belief that society is morally weaker than it once was. This apathetic approach to national morals has, at least inadvertently, led to a reduction in engagement, as many begin to question the individual stakes they possess in politics.
Voting, however, has remained exceptionally relevant to engagement in American politics over the course of the last several decades, through a history of expanding voting rights. When America was first established, voting rights were relegated to an exclusive group of land-owning white men over the age of 21. It was almost a century later when the country ratified the 15th Amendment, which directly abolished the standing right to vote solely reserved for white men. With that said, the erection of poll taxes, literacy tests, and intimidation tactics ultimately preserved white supremacy at the ballot box until the 1960s
While its composition is no longer explicitly defined by the intimidation that was practiced at the turn of the 19th century, voter suppression has managed to endure as a fundamental aspect of our electoral system, even in modern contests. Given that the federal Civil Rights Act was signed into law in 1964, and that poll taxes were abolished by the ratification of the 24th Amendment in the same year, voting rights would seem theoretically universal. Yet, our modern electoral history presents a portrait of voter accessibility that exists along racial and socioeconomic divisions, with those in black and brown communities consistently oppressed. For example, the Supreme Court’s ruling in Shelby County v. Holder struck down the provision in the Voting Rights Act that enabled federal oversight of voting in areas with historic racial biases— this directly led to voter suppression in those states. In turn, a culture of blatant voter suppression has emerged, with the current pandemic only further aiding in these efforts, as evidenced by the events in Wisconsin.
Political efforts have also expanded the national electorate’s ability to suppress the voting rights of minorities. With the passage of the 2010 Republican gerrymandering plan, REDMAP, which resulted in a redistricting plan that secured a greater number of electoral seats for Republicans, implicit methods of suppression have been able to easily dominate electoral politics. It takes only a consideration of the Wisconsin primary elections to understand the consequences of suppresionary tactics in our current elections. The events in Wisconsin saw Republicans oppose a request by the Democratic governor to delay the primary and ease up restrictions on absentee voting, resulting in at least 40 new cases of coronavirus infection in the state.
Beyond Wisconsin, a broader partisan narrative has begun to emerge, in which Republican officials hold that their Democratic counterparts are purposefully exploiting the current pandemic to secure a series of long-considered alterations to our national voting system—namely, same-day voter registration and the federal issuance of mail-in ballots. Furthermore, Republicans continue to advocate for voter ID, purges of voter rolls, and the closing of certain poll places, many in historically black communities. Exacerbated by these allegations on either side of the political aisle, voting as a form of civic engagement again finds itself challenged by loopholes in legislation.
The influence of coronavirus on voting, however, is twofold. While historic tactics of voter suppression threaten safe access to voting booths and ballots, specifically in communities of color, there exists a separate legal argument as to whether or not elections might even fairly occur in the midst of national emergency. As of the third week of April 2020, 16 states have postponed their primary elections, shortening the window of time between the primary cycle and the November election to roughly four months. David Daley, a political writer who gained notoriety for his vocal criticism of REDMAP, foresees a similar shift in electoral precedent as the country moves towards the fall. “I think it’s entirely likely that in many states, in many cities, it’s going to be absolutely impossible to conduct the kind of traditional in-person voting that this country has gotten used to… Can you imagine a similar situation [to Wisconsin] in November? I can, and it’s horrifying. This is how a public health crisis turns into a constitutional crisis.” Essentially, Daley has hypothesized a reduction in electoral accessibility as a result of COVID-19. This can only be mitigated if the very provisions for mail-in ballots and absentee ballots that are currently being blocked by Republican politicians are implemented. Beyond Daley’s suggestions, the prospect of inequitable access to voting has been presented by Michael McDonald, a political scientist who focuses his research on shifting patterns of voter participation. In considering the events of Wisconsin as potential precedent for the impending election cycle, McDonald has said, “The real outstanding question is whether or not we're going to have an election system that can deliver for the voters and whether or not we're going to be able to manage everybody being able to vote in November.”
With McDonald’s concerns for civic engagement in mind, the potential for an unusual election cycle also seems likely to heighten suspicion of national elections. Given concerns that certain votes may be suppressed, or certain elections ultimately postponed, it seems possible that civic engagement may be tainted in the area of voting. Even if Daley and McDonald prove incorrect, and it is possible for the general election to commence in a regular fashion come November, a drop in voter turnout due to the virus could have an insurmountable impact on citizens’ already strained relationships with the government. In communities where mail-in ballots or absentee voting are not secured, as well as districts where gerrymandering has resulted in redistricting along socioeconomic lines, election results might be perceived as unrepresentative. In extreme cases, the results might be argued as inherently illegitimate. This mistrust could entirely upend the credibility of the present democratic system, as well as the historic role of civic engagement. In essence, our country’s governance is dependent upon voters’ trust that their ballots will be fairly counted, and a potential skew in this perception could prove the final crack in an archaic veneer of unquestioned civic engagement. In a society where social distancing has separated people from one another, a revised consideration of voting rights would not only represent a receptive shift in political accountability, but would reveal the necessity of an electoral system overhaul.
COMMUNITY AND CIVIC ENGAGEMENT
Beyond the electoral politics that have been reconstructed amidst the coronavirus crisis, the definition of civic engagement as an interpersonal connection between a citizen and society is also threatened. As the virus mandates that Americans remain in their homes, the ability to bridge physical connections between citizens appears obsolete. In many ways, this lack of connection seems a greater threat to civic engagement than an alteration in voting. While the threat of postponed elections certainly would appear the defining issue posed for civic involvement in the coming months, postponement of voting is not a novel form of national response to crisis. As outlined in a recent New Yorker article, “when Hurricane Andrew devastated parts of Florida in 1992, and Hurricane Katrina decimated the Gulf Coast in 2005, officials changed the dates of pending elections. September 11, 2001 was a municipal primary day in New York. After the planes hit the World Trade Center, voting was halted and rescheduled for two weeks later. More recently, the 2018 New York primary was moved to avoid conflicting with both the anniversary of 9/11 and Rosh Hashanah.” Simply put, it has been proven historically possible, albeit not to the same extent as the proposed changes that may stem from COVID-19, to suspend voting until a later date.
However, there exists little historical precedent for the total postponement of civic connection that has resulted from the coronavirus. Historically, Americans have utilized tragedy as an instrument for unification, rather than partisan division. Following Hurricane Katrina, in response to the food scarcity, an increase in the homeless population, and the devastating mass loss of financial resources, the city of New Orleans erected the Bring New Orleans Back Commission,which articulated a newfound dedication to urban issues and infrastructure. Per Seana Steffen and Alice Fothergill’s paper, “9/11 Volunteerism: A Pathway to Personal Healing and Community Engagement,” the immediate aftermath of 9/11 found “thousands of people converged on New York City to help meet the needs of the tens of thousands of people perceived to have been injured or killed in the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center.” However, as citizens are prevented from travel and community, the coronavirus poses a challenge to these physical acts of engagement in the wake of emergency. Volunteers cannot physically assist the impacted, for fear they might also contract or spread the disease.
The question remains: what can one do to continue to actively engage, even from a distance?
The difficulty in addressing this inquiry is that a clear answer has not yet presented itself. As Amy Koritz writes in her Civic Engagement in the Wake of Katrina, “Community engagement is, by its very nature, expressive. It speaks to an innately American need to publicly express political values, faith, and commitments through work, prayer, volunteerism, and philanthropy. It is a capricious loudness, and there is an undeniable personal element to civic engagement, even in times of grave crisis.” In a period of abject and newfound isolation, due to the coronavirus, this element is stifled. The volunteers that would traditionally descend upon sites of disaster are left to ponder the seams of their couch cushions, anxiously searching for a way to engage from their own homes. And, with voting rights already threatened by partisan struggles over COVID-19, it remains to be determined as to whether or not civic engagement can continue in its current form.
The short answer to this question on the future of civic engagement would seem to be that no, it cannot remain as it has been. As we adapt to social distancing practices, isolation from community, and increasingly polarized political rhetoric, interpersonal civic engagement appears to be a practice of the past. That said, there does exist some glimmer of hope for the future of engagement. Americans have begun to uncover the ways in which they might engage from a distance, through digital and technological means of political organization. Across the country, American citizens have essentially reacted to our country shutting down through a poignant consideration of the most vulnerable members of society, uncovering methods in engagement that might allow the country to grow from a time of crisis, rather than shudder beneath its weight. Commenting on this shift in engagement, Matthew Zeitlin, a freelance journalist, recently wrote on Twitter, “one way to think about social distancing is that to contribute to a great national cause in World War II you had to, like, die face down in the muck on some tiny pacific island, now you can literally stay at home, watch the sopranos or that Netflix dating show and be a hero.” [sic]
Even as citizens struggle to adapt to a form of civic engagement and responsibility for the welfare of the country, the ability to social distance and alter routine is a collective act of unprecedented community spirit, a fundamental statement of American character. “Flattening the curve,” in many ways, has become a rallying cry for a new form of civic engagement, right from home.
Photo of a shuttered business in Claremont Village, California. Photo by Russ Allison Loar.
WHAT NOW?
Although Americans have begun practicing alternate forms of civic engagement, sitting on the couch may be the most active form of civic engagement possible for the indefinite future, at least until a vaccine for the coronavirus is found and widely distributed. However, there is a certain positive to be found in at-home engagement, namely through the use of modern technology. As access to digital means of engagement has grown in recent decades, the Pew Research Center’s division on Internet & Technology holds that “the internet might be expected to raise participation. The interactive capacities of the internet allow certain forms of political activity to be conducted more easily. Considering this point, several forms of political activity—including making donations, forming a group of like-minded people, contacting public officials, and registering to vote—are simply easier on the internet.” The internet also allows for the formation of partisan political groups, allowing ongoing civic connection amongst citizens of similar political affiliation.
Beyond the future of digital engagement, electoral systems continue to grow increasingly partisan, and the debates for or against mail-in ballots and absentee voting will likely endure well past the November election. However, civic engagement can also have a valuable influence upon voter registration, even during periods of national isolation. Online registration in the place of traditional voter registration drives, where activists go door to door or approach voters at public places, may prove a newfound possibility in an age of social distancing. “Registration drives are going to be on social media and through direct messaging if folks can’t go door to door,” according to Rick Hasen, an election law professor at the University of California Irvine. “And online voter registration is going to be a huge help.” Additionally, resources pertaining to civic engagement continue to emerge across the country, with the National Coalition for Dialogue and Deliberation emerging as a leading force in encouraging alternate digital forms of engagement. Even now, many have already exercised their civic responsibility through the submission of the 2020 Census.
Admittedly, the path ahead will be a difficult one to traverse. The characteristic animosity between political parties will be very much on display as Congress debates proposed aid packages for the organizations and individuals threatened by the pandemic and President Donald Trump continues to defend the government fumbles that worsened the economic and human pain of the pandemic across America. With that said, this period of isolation has the potential to hopefully prove a most unifying act of national civic engagement.
Adam Kluge is a staff writer at CPR and a sophomore in Columbia College studying Political Science and History. He can typically be found searching for the best chai latte in the city, browsing the internet for photos of Golden Retrievers, or discussing Meryl Streep's filmography. He is from Buffalo, New York.