Democracy in America: Chapter 11 Summary & Analysis

If democracies have an obvious defect, incomplete or imperfect laws, Tocqueville argues that it takes more time and care to study democracies’ advantages. Democratic legislation tends to promote the welfare of the many, rather than the few—but that’s the extent of its advantages. Aristocracies are much better at the science of making laws, while democracies are often inept. While Aristocracies have well-trained, clever officers, Democracies often struggle to place admirable people in power. Still, the lack of class interest in the U.S. often means that public officers are working for the benefit of all, not their friends.

Tocqueville identifies two forms of patriotism. One is the instinctive love for one’s birthplace and ancient traditions tied to the land and property of one’s ancestors, which can lead to pride and defense in times of need, but which dwindles in times of peace. Another more rational if less ardent form of patriotism comes from knowledge and attachment to laws, and grows through the gradual attainment and use of civil rights. While this process is still taking place, a period of crisis might shake such patriotism to the core, threatening to erode any kind of spirit and love for one’s country. In order to prevent such a possibility, Tocqueville thinks, it’s necessary to make people feel implicated in the governing process and to extend political rights so that, should a crisis arise, citizens are willing to defend their country. America’s extension of political rights to nearly all has enacted such spirit and involvement. The eager patriotism of Americans is irritating, he acknowledges, but also admirable.

Tocqueville praises the principle of rights, which he describes as the extension of virtue into the realm of politics. Democracy extends political rights to all citizens, and while it isn’t always easy to teach people how to exercise them, it’s worthwhile and important. Today, when religious belief and the divine notion of right is shaken, when morality is challenged, it’s even more urgent to connect the idea of rights to private interests if nations have any chance of ruling without fear and tyranny. The early period of universal rights is the most dangerous, when people don’t know how to use them. Learning liberty is difficult, unlike despotism.

Tocqueville argues that the authority of the law is always strengthened when the law is formed in consultation with the people, as in America, where only slaves, servants, and “paupers” (those supported by township charity) don’t have the right to vote. Americans thus don’t fear the law as an enemy, as many Europeans do, although the wealthy have a greater anxiety with respect to it, just like the poor do in Europe.

 Tocqueville expresses amazement at the cacophony of political affairs that he’s witnessed in the United States. On a single day there might be a meeting to decide on the building of a church, deliberation on a public road project, an assembly to debate a recent law, and so on. No people spends more time in the pursuit of happiness, he says. Even women often attend public meetings. Debating clubs take the place of theatrical shows, and sometimes Americans in private conversation grow enthusiastic and proclaim “Gentlemen” to their interlocutor, as if at a debate. Tocqueville isn’t unreservedly enthusiastic about these tendencies—they often lead to inefficiency and disorder—but they involve ordinary people in governing to an admirable extent. Rather than giving people a skillful government, democracies thrive through their activity, energy, and force.

If what one wants from society is the elevation of the mind, strong convictions, refined manners and arts, and honor, then a democracy is not the best option, Tocqueville argues. But for the promotion of well-being, clear understanding over genius, peace, and prosperity over brilliance, democracy does win out. Either way, since such a choice is no longer possible, he suggests we make the best of the circumstances.