1. INTRODUCTION
Good governance requires considerable intelligence. Constructing laws and policies that are just, effective, and efficient requires significant knowledge, skill, and ingenuity. Think, for example, of the difficulties and complexities involved in reforming health care, revising the tax code, managing immigration, or updating privacy laws in light of new technology. Many have worried that democracy, which entrusts ultimate power over such laws and policies to the populace, cannot exhibit the intelligence needed to govern well. Given that the average voter is not very knowledgeable, skillful, or ingenious when it comes to navigating complex political issues, how could government by the people govern well? Would we have better laws and policies under the governance of a non-democratic panel of political experts?
In her recent book, Democratic Reason, Hélène Landemore defends bold answers to these questions. On her view, the fact that individual citizens are generally not very proficient at making political decisions is not a problem because “democracy is a political system capable of turning the input of not-so-smart citizens into relatively intelligent decisions” (p. 50).Footnote 1 In fact, she argues, democracy is so good at producing smart decisions that, when evaluated epistemically, “a democratic decision procedure is likely to be a better decision procedure than any non-democratic decision procedures, such as a council of experts or a benevolent dictator” (p. 3). There are thus strong epistemic reasons to favor democracy over any competitors, reasons that are independent of more traditional reasons for democracy such as those grounded in concerns about autonomy or equality.
Landemore's argument rests heavily on studies of collective intelligence done by Lu Hong and Scott Page. These studies purport to show that cognitive diversity – differences in how people solve problems – is actually more important to overall group performance than average individual ability – how smart the individual members are. Landemore's argument aims to extrapolate from these results to the conclusion that democracy is epistemically better than any non-democratic rival. I argue here that Hong and Page's results actually undermine, rather than support, this conclusion. More specifically, I argue that the results do not show that democracy is better than any non-democratic alternative, and that in fact, they suggest the opposite – that at least some non-democratic alternatives are likely to epistemically outperform democracy.
Section 2 begins by situating Landemore's project within the context of epistemic theories of democracy. Section 3 lays out Landemore's argument and briefly explains the work on collective intelligence upon which it depends. Sections 4 through 6 present a series of connected problems for Landemore's argument, culminating at the end of section 6 in the twofold conclusion described above. Section 7 ends the paper on a more positive note. I suggest that even though Landemore's argument comes up short it may nonetheless offer valuable insights for democratic theory.
2. SET UP: EPISTEMIC DEMOCRACY AND THE CHALLENGE OF EPISTOCRACY
Landemore's book is a major contribution to the literature on “epistemic democracy.”Footnote 2 Epistemic democrats contend that, contrary to common skepticism about the epistemic merits of democracy, epistemic considerations actually weigh in favor of democracy over at least some non-democratic rivals. There are many ways of supporting this contention, but the most typical approach proceeds by positing normative standards for the correctness of political decisions that are independent of the procedures by which such decisions are made, and then arguing that, relative to such standards, democratic procedures tend to make correct decisions more reliably than non-democratic alternatives.Footnote 3
Epistemic democrats face a challenge from what David Estlund calls epistocracy (Reference Estlund2008a: 30). Whereas democracy is rule by the many, epistocracy is a form of rule by the few, specifically by the few who know best (or at least better than the rest). In an epistocracy, ultimate political power rests with a group whose membership is defined by satisfaction of certain epistemic criteria. Many different systems could count as epistocratic. For example, rule by a small council of highly skilled and knowledgeable experts is epistocratic, but so is rule by all and only those who have attained a high-school diploma.
Epistocracy poses a challenge to epistemic arguments for democracy because it seems, to many people at least, that some form of epistocracy is likely to make correct decisions more reliably than democracy. “It is certain,” says Estlund, “that there are subsets of citizens who are wiser than the group as a whole” and who “know better than the rest of us what should be done” (Reference Estlund2008a: 40). Why shouldn't these wiser and more knowledgeable citizens rule over the rest of us? This is a question that any defense of democracy must answer, but it poses an especially acute challenge for epistemic democrats who must explain why their own emphasis on epistemic considerations favors democracy rather than epistocracy.
In his own influential account of epistemic democracy, Estlund concedes that the challenge of epistocracy cannot be met by any appeal to epistemic considerations. To answer the challenge, says Estlund, epistemic democrats must “appeal to some principle” that rules out epistocracy on non-epistemic grounds (Reference Estlund2008a: 40). Estlund invokes just such a principle – the qualified acceptability principle – which requires that, “any legitimate exercise of political power … be justifiable in terms acceptable to all qualified points of view (where “qualified” will be filled in by “reasonable” or some such thing)” (Reference Estlund2008a: 41). This principle rules out epistocracy because “any particular person or group who might be put forward as such an expert would be subject to controversy, and qualified controversy in particular” (Reference Estlund2008a: 36).
By invoking a non-epistemic principle to answer the challenge of epistocracy, Estlund significantly shrinks the epistemic aspect of his account. For it turns out that democracy is preferable to most of the alternatives people actually worry about – epistocracy, benevolent dictatorship, oligarchy, and so on – not because democracy is epistemically better, but because those alternatives fail to meet the qualified acceptability requirement. Estlund's epistemic defense of democracy thus turns out to be mostly non-epistemic. As Elizabeth Anderson notes in her review, “the qualified acceptability requirement … leaves democracy as the only authoritative form of public decision making left standing, provided there is some reason to believe that it has some modest tendency to produce just decisions” (Reference Anderson2008: 132).
3. LANDEMORE'S DEFENSE OF EPISTEMIC DEMOCRACY
Landemore contends that Estlund's epistemic minimalism “concedes too much, and is, furthermore, unwarranted” because the claim that epistocracy is likely to epistemically outperform democracy is false (p. 52). On her view, “epistocracy is not a tempting option, not because we can never agree on who the knowers are … but because there are reasons to think that the more reliable knower is actually the group as a whole, as opposed to any particular individual or group of individuals within it” (p. 52). Landemore argues that democracy is likely to epistemically outperform any non-democratic rival, including epistocracy. As she puts it, “the rule of the many is epistemically superior to any version of the rule of the few” (p. 166). In this section I set out Landemore's argument for this claim and briefly summarize the findings upon which it depends.
Landemore's argument rests heavily on work on collective intelligence by Lu Hong and Scott Page. Using computer models consisting of simulated agents, Hong and Page compared the performance of two types of groups on collective problem-solving tasks: groups drawn at random from the population as a whole, and groups composed of the best individual problem solvers. Hong and Page found that the former type of group reliably outperformed the latter: “a random collection of agents drawn from a large set of limited-ability agents typically outperforms a collection of the very best agents from that same set” (Hong and Page Reference Hong and Page2004: 16386).
How could a randomly selected group consistently beat a group composed of the best individual problem solvers? Hong and Page answer that the latter group, “while its members have more ability, is less diverse” (Hong and Page Reference Hong and Page2004: 16385). The sort of diversity Hong and Page refer to is what they call functional or cognitive diversity: “differences in how people encode problems and attempt to solve them” (Hong and Page Reference Hong and Page2004: 16385).Footnote 4 The best individual problem solvers all have similar ways – the most successful ways – of encoding and solving problems. This enables them to outperform everyone else on individual problem-solving tasks, but when working as a group their relative cognitive homogeneity limits them. Because they are so cognitively similar “a collection of the best problem solvers performs little better than any of them individually” (Page Reference Page2007: 137). The randomly selected group is not limited in this way. Their diverse approaches to problem solving, while individually inferior to the approaches of the best individual problem solvers, interact in group settings in ways that enable the randomly selected group to, on average, outperform the group of the best individual problem solvers. In short, when it comes to group problem solving, “diversity trumps ability” (Hong and Page Reference Hong and Page2004: 16386).
Landemore aims to “exploit the potential of these findings for the epistemic case for democracy by drawing a connection between the inclusiveness of the democratic procedure and the presence of cognitive diversity” (p. 90). For Landemore, the defining feature of democracy is “the fact that it is inclusive, more or less directly, of all the members of the group for whom decisions need to be made” (p. 10). It is this fact that distinguishes democracy as “the rule of the many” from non-democratic systems such as “the rule of the one and the rule of the few” (p. 11). In Landemore's view, democracy “always includes … two complementary procedures”: inclusive deliberation and majority rule (p. 11).
Landemore's case for the epistemic superiority of democracy hinges on her argument for the epistemic superiority inclusive deliberation. This is because Hong and Page's finding that diversity trumps ability holds only for deliberative problem solving, not for voting. In fact, “what [Hong and Page's] results suggest is that all things being equal otherwise, the aggregated prediction of a large group of average citizens will not necessarily be more accurate than the aggregated prediction of a small group of experts” (p. 147). And, on Landemore's view, majority rule is simply a means of aggregating predictions about what the best course of action will be, who will do the best job in office, and so on (p. 11). So, if democracy were just majority rule, democracy would be no better, and perhaps even worse, than epistocracy. However, “assuming democracy combines majority rule and inclusive deliberation … overall, the rule of the many is epistemically superior to any version of the rule of the few” (p. 166).
Unlike in the case of aggregation (i.e. voting) where “cognitive differences among voters matter just as much as individual ability” (p. 161), Hong and Page's results “establish that, in a problem-solving context, cognitive diversity actually matters more to the production of smart collective decisions than individual ability does” (p. 90). The upshot of these results, Landemore argues, is that “all other things being equal otherwise, deliberation among more-inclusive groups is likely to produce better results than deliberation among less-inclusive groups, even if those less inclusive groups include smarter people” (p. 90). This is because a more-inclusive group will include a larger number of people, and “larger deliberating groups are simply more likely to be cognitively diverse” (p. 104). Therefore, “to the extent that cognitive diversity is a key ingredient in collective intelligence, and specifically that it matters more than average individual ability, the more inclusive the deliberation process, the smarter the solutions resulting from it should be, overall” (p. 104). So, inclusive deliberation that involves everyone is epistemically better than any form of non-democratic deliberation such as epistocratic deliberation that involves only groups of experts. This makes democracy – the conjunction of inclusive deliberation and majority rule – epistemically better than any alternative.Footnote 5
4. THE EPISTEMIC COSTS OF DIVERSITY
“Of course, difference does not magically translate into benefits,” says Page, “my claim that diversity produces benefits rests on conditions” (Page Reference Page2007: xxix). Landemore acknowledges these conditions, but insists that they “are not utterly demanding” (p. 102). The four conditions are: (1) “the problem be difficult enough, since we do not need a group to solve easy problems”; (2) “all problem solvers are relatively smart (or not too dumb)”; (3) “the participants think very differently, even though the best solution must be obvious to all of them when they are made to think of it”; and (4) “the initial population from which the problem solvers are picked must be large and the collection of problem solvers working together must contain more than a handful of problem solvers” (p. 102).
I believe that the second and third conditions cause more trouble for Landemore's argument than she realizes. In this section I focus on condition (3). I argue that the condition is unlikely to be satisfied by any liberal democracy and that the non-satisfaction of this condition undermines Landemore's argument.
4.1 Why The Best Solution Will Not Be Obvious to Everyone Who is Made to Think of It
The third condition requires that the best solution “be obvious” to everyone “when they are made to think of it” (p. 102). In order for this condition to be met, everyone must agree about what constitutes a good solution. This highlights an important fact about cognitive diversity: “cognitive diversity is not diversity of values or goals” (p. 102). The simulated agents in Hong and Page's models have different approaches to solving problems, but they all have exactly the same goal: find the solution with the highest pre-assigned numerical value – what Page calls the “global optimum” (Page Reference Page2007: 160). Moreover, the agents never disagree about the values assigned to the possible solutions. This is akin to a community in which everyone shares the same, uniquely correct, conception of the good; they differ only in how they search for ways of maximizing that good. As Sameer Bajaj rightly points out, liberal societies are not like this:
To echo Rawls, disagreements about morality and the good are a natural result of the exercise of human reason under free institutions. Individuals in liberal societies thus bring diverse normative criteria to bear when proposing and evaluating solutions to political problems. And this normative diversity leads to disagreements about the relative merits of solutions; whereas one individual might see a solution as the best, another might see that same solution as far worse than the best. When this is the case, the global optimum will not be obvious to all when they are made to think of it. (Bajaj Reference Bajaj2014: 429).
In short, the third condition upon which Hong and Page's results depend is unlikely to be satisfied by modern liberal democracies. This undermines Landemore's effort to “exploit the potential of these findings for the epistemic case for democracy” (p. 90).
Landemore tries to head off this problem by cautioning that ““the fact of disagreement” noted by many a contemporary liberal theorist … should not be blown out of proportion” (p. 192). To this she adds that, while “it is possible that some conflicts of values stem from incommensurable worldviews,” we should not lose sight of the fact that “many functional democracies rest on a basis of shared values and some amount of consensus on a great number of issues” (p. 192). While there is some truth to this, it is not sufficient to stave off trouble for Landemore's account.
Consider three different forms that moral disagreements can take. First, we can disagree at the level of fundamental values. For example, nationalists and cosmopolitans might disagree about whether loyalty to one's nation is of value.Footnote 6 Second, we can agree about fundamental values at some abstract level, but disagree about those values at lower levels of abstraction. For example, many people believe that equality is important, but they disagree about what equality means. And even if they agree that it means, say, equality of opportunity, they disagree about what sorts of opportunities must be equalized. Third, we can agree that certain things are valuable, but disagree about how to prioritize them and trade them off against each other. For example, most people agree that both safety and privacy are important, but there is considerable disagreement about how much privacy should be given up for certain gains in safety.
All three forms of disagreement are sufficient to cause disagreements about the relative merits of proposed solutions to political problems. Thus even citizens who share a set of values at some level of abstraction are unlikely to satisfy the third condition. So long as citizens disagree about how to specify their values at lower levels of abstraction, or about how to trade values off against one another, it is unlikely that the best solution will be obvious to everyone once they are made to think of it.
Landemore, though, suggests that much apparent moral disagreement is not really moral disagreement at all. She writes:
A lot of apparent “value pluralism” – for example the disagreement between Democrats and Republicans over the legitimate size of the government – can arguably be explained by a disagreement about facts, including complicated facts such as causal relationship between big government and efficient spending in a given social and economic context. This disagreement about the facts of the world leads to a disagreement about political principles that are dependent on those facts. At the bottom, however, both Democrats and Republicans may share a common core of basic values. (p. 216)
There is undoubtedly some truth to this. But again, that both Democrats and Republicans share a common core of basic values does not mean that there are no moral disagreements between them about how to specify the content of those values, or how to prioritize them relative to one another. For example, Democrats and Republicans may agree that freedom of speech is a core American value, but nonetheless have very different views about what the right to free speech ought to amount to in practice, or how to weigh free speech against other values, such as political equality. Furthermore, even if all apparent moral disagreements could be explained away in terms of disagreements about non-moral facts, persistent disagreements about the merits of proposed solutions to political problems could, and likely would, remain. And as long as there is disagreement about the merits of proposed solutions, the best solution will not be obvious to everyone once they are made to think of it.
4.2 How Moral Disagreement Undermines the Epistemic Quality of Deliberation
So far I have argued that the third of the four conditions upon which Hong and Page's results depend is unlikely to be satisfied by any liberal democracy. This casts doubt on Landemore's assumption that “Hong and Page's results apply nicely” to democratic deliberation (p. 90). And given the extent to which Landemore's argument depends on the applicability of Hong and Page's results, doubt is also cast on her argument as a whole. But perhaps such doubt is premature. An accurate assessment of the damage done to Landemore's argument requires an understanding of the extent to which moral disagreement reduces the epistemic quality of democratic deliberation relative to non-democratic alternatives. It may be that democratic deliberation remains epistemically superior to non-democratic alternatives even when Hong and Page's third condition is not satisfied. Landemore provides no argument to this effect, but it is worth considering the possibility. Deciding the issue would require a far more complete account of the relationship between moral disagreement and the epistemic quality of deliberation than I can provide here. My aim in the remainder of this section is just to show that, at least relative to Hong and Page's models, moral disagreement has epistemic costs, and that moral disagreement is likely to be positively correlated with the sort of cognitive diversity Landemore seeks to maximize.
One way in which moral disagreement has costs has already been alluded to. Consider two groups. The first group is cognitively diverse, but not morally diverse; everyone in the group agrees with the correct moral standards. The second group is just as cognitively diverse as the first, but it is also morally diverse; there is disagreement about which moral standards are the correct ones. Since everyone in the first group agrees with the correct moral standards, there is no resistance within the group to the best solution once it has been identified. This is not so in the second group. Some members of the second group will reject the best solution because they reject the moral standards according to which that solution is best. So, all else equal, it is more likely that the first group will settle on the best solution than the second group, since the first group contains no resistance to the best solution while the second group does. The second group is, in this regard, epistemically worse off than the first group.
This illustrates how the failure to satisfy Hong and Page's third condition tends to make a group less epistemically reliable, other things being equal. Landemore does not deny this; she concedes that, “diversity of goals or values … would actually harm the collective effort to solve a problem” (p. 102). The trouble for Landemore's argument is that while the groups in Hong and Page's models are all like the first group – all the members agree with the correct moral standards – modern liberal democracies are more like the second – there is disagreement about what the correct standards are. So democracy is unlikely to be as epistemically reliable as Landemore claims on the basis of Hong and Page's findings.
Disagreement can also undermine the epistemic quality of deliberation in another way: by spurring intragroup conflict. As Page points out, “for diverse groups to function in practice, the people in them must get along. If not, the cognitive differences between them may be little more than disconnected silos of ideas and thoughts” (Page Reference Page2007: xxix–xxx). And we know, both from experience and from empirical studies, that people who disagree about moral matters often do not get along. Summarizing the psychological literature on moral conviction, Linda Skitka writes, “research indicates that as people's moral convictions in a given domain increases, so too does their intolerance of attitude divergence within that domain. Moreover, people are less willing to share and more willing to behaviorally discriminate against those who do not share their moral point of view” (Skitka Reference Skitka2010: 274). The popular maxim that opposites attract seems not to be true of people who hold opposite moral views. This does not mean that people who disagree about morals cannot get along. They can, and often they do. The point is only that moral disagreement tends to spur intragroup conflict, and intragroup conflict tends to reduce the epistemic quality of deliberation – it is hard to deliberate well when people refuse to talk to each other.
4.3 The Costs of Cognitive Diversity
The fact that moral disagreement has adverse effects on the epistemic quality of deliberation is especially troubling for Landemore's argument given that moral diversity is likely to be positively correlated with cognitive diversity. As Page points out, cognitive diversity and moral diversity are causally intertwined: each is a cause of the other. People value different things, and this leads them to pursue different life paths in the course of which they acquire different cognitive tools. And using different cognitive tools can lead people to make different judgments about what is morally valuable, or about how to specify or prioritize various values. Moreover, both value diversity and cognitive diversity are a result of a third sort of diversity, diversity of experience. People's lives take different twists and turns, and the twists and turns they take affect both their moral outlook and which cognitive tools they develop. Cognitive diversity and moral diversity thus tend to go hand in hand. Because of this Page insists that, “we cannot consider these types of diversity in isolation” (Page Reference Page2007: 296). Maximizing cognitive diversity in practice will tend to also maximize moral diversity, and at least relative to the performance of groups in Hong and Page's models, moral diversity is detrimental to the epistemic quality of deliberation.
The more general lesson to take from this section is that diversity has epistemic costs. Landemore fixates on the epistemic benefits of cognitive diversity while ignoring these costs. Factoring the costs back in undermines her claims about the epistemic benefits of democracy. Here I have focused on the epistemic costs associated with moral diversity, but moral diversity is not the only sort of diversity that comes with epistemic costs. Cognitive diversity, by itself, has costs. For example, cognitive diversity can make communication and mutual understanding more difficult. As Hong and Page note, “problem solvers with diverse perspectives may have trouble understanding solutions identified by other agents” (Hong and Page Reference Hong and Page2004: 16389).
In calling attention to the epistemic costs of diversity I am not denying that diversity has epistemic benefits, or even that the epistemic benefits never outweigh the epistemic costs. Page provides a simple, but helpful, equation (Page Reference Page2007: 325):
My claim is not that diversity cannot have a net benefit. My claim is just that the net benefits are likely to be smaller and less certain than Landemore suggests because there are attendant costs to cognitive diversity that Landemore ignores. An accurate assessment of the epistemic merits of democratic deliberation must take these costs into account. In the absence of such an assessment, Landemore's claim that democracy is epistemically second to none is unfounded.
5. THE RELEVANCE OF DIVERSITY
In the forgoing section I argued that Hong and Page's third condition is not likely to be met by liberal democracies, and that the reasons why it is not likely to be met point to costs of diversity that Landemore ignores. This section shifts focus to Hong and Page's second condition requiring that “all problem solvers are relatively smart (or not too dumb)” (p. 102). The word “smart” is potentially misleading here since the condition requires not just that the problem solvers are generally intelligent, but also that they possess knowledge and skills that are relevant to the task at hand. As Page puts it, “we cannot expect that adding a poet to a medical research team would enable them to find a cure for the common cold” (Page Reference Page2007: xxix).
Landemore argues that inclusive deliberation is epistemically better than non-inclusive deliberation because including more people increases cognitive diversity and cognitive diversity improves epistemic performance. But given that diversity must be relevant in order to produce epistemic benefits, increasing cognitive diversity may not actually improve epistemic performance. In fact, given that cognitive diversity has attendant epistemic costs – a key point from the preceding section – the net result of adding irrelevant diversity might actually be a decrease in epistemic performance. So even if, as Landemore argues, the group as a whole is more cognitively diverse than any subset of the group, this greater cognitive diversity may not provide any epistemic benefits, especially once the concomitant increase in costs is factored in. The group as a whole may be epistemically less reliable than some subset of the group that contains only cognitive diversity that is relevant to the task at hand.
What is the task at hand in politics? Landemore says that, “problem solving aptly describes a central activity of democratic assemblies, whether they are trying to fix the national health care system, come up with a way to regulate bankers’ compensation levels, or find environment-friendly ways to develop the economy” (p. 97). Consider just one of these examples: fixing the national health-care system. What sort of cognitive diversity is relevant to this task? The diverse skills of doctors, health-care economists, legal analysts, and insurance experts immediately come to mind. Suppose we have a group of such individuals. Will adding a park ranger increase the epistemic reliability of the group? Adding the park ranger will probably increase the cognitive diversity of the group, but it is not clear that it increases the diversity of the group in a relevant way. As Page points out, “just because someone brings a different perspective doesn't mean that it will lead to a better solution” (Page Reference Page2007: 35). If the park ranger has little understanding of epidemiology, the economics of health care, or how various health-care systems work, the diversity gained by adding the park ranger might not improve the epistemic reliability of the group at all. It might even diminish it.
Landemore resists this sort of move claiming that, “in most cases, we cannot predict the relevant dimension of cognitive diversity in advance, because we simply cannot predict the future” (p. 111). To this she adds that, “we simply can't tell in advance from which part of the demos the right kind of ideas are going to come. It therefore does not make much sense to try to engineer cognitive diversity ex ante” (p. 112). There is a sense in which what Landemore says is true; we cannot predict in advance exactly which sorts of expertise will be useful for which political problems. Insights can come from surprising places. But to say that we cannot make any reliable predictions at all is to overstate the facts. We do have a pretty good idea of the sorts of expertise that are likely to be more useful in the long run. For example, we can predict that, in general, the cognitive skills of an actuary or a climate scientist will be more relevant to most political problems than the cognitive skills of a landscape painter or a firefighter. That is not to say that landscape painters and firefighters have nothing to add to political discussions; only that their specific cognitive skills sets will, on average, be less relevant for solving the sorts of political problems we typically face than the skill sets of actuaries and climate scientists.
Given that some cognitive skill sets are more applicable to political problems than others, the epistemically best strategy may not be the maximally inclusive one (i.e. democracy) as Landemore contends. If the epistemic costs of including individuals with less relevant skill sets exceeds the epistemic benefits, then the epistemically best strategy may be an exclusive, i.e. non-democratic, strategy that prioritizes the sort of diversity most relevant to political problems. In other words, once the requirement that diversity be relevant is adequately taken into account, some form of epistocracy might emerge as the epistemically best option. In the next section, I will argue that the limits of direct democracy, together with Hong and Page's findings, suggest just such a result.
6. DEMOCRACY OR AN EPISTOCRACY OF THE COGNITIVELY SKILLED?
Landemore argues that inclusive deliberation, which involves everyone, is epistemically superior to non-inclusive deliberation, such as deliberation among a small group of experts. But genuine inclusive deliberation is only possible at fairly small scales. As we scale up the size of a group it becomes impractical, counter-productive, and, eventually, impossible, to involve everyone in deliberation. Landemore recognizes this. “There is a point,” she says, “beyond which … including more people will simply worsen the quality of the deliberative outcomes even if we assume that it still increases the cognitive diversity of the group” (p. 105). This necessitates a shift from direct democracy, wherein the entire populace participates in institutionalized political deliberations, to representative democracy, wherein institutionalized political deliberation is entrusted to a small subset of the population. Landemore claims that this necessary shift does not undermine her argument: “the epistemic argument for deliberation among the many presented earlier translates from direct to representative democracy, provided representation reproduces at least some of the cognitive diversity of the larger group in the smaller one” (p. 107). I am not convinced that the translation proceeds so smoothly.
Suppose that we are selecting a deliberative assembly of 300 people. How should we select its members? In modern democracies the membership of such assemblies is typically decided by elections. But, says, Landemore “elections tend to bring to power socially and economically homogenous people, suggesting that the assembly is not likely to be as cognitively diverse as it should” (p. 108). To this she adds that:
Even in theory … it is not clear that the principle of election can be fully reconciled with the goal of cognitive diversity, as there might be a selection bias in the pool of people likely to run for office in the first place … As a consequence, even if the individual ability of elected representative assemblies is high, their cognitive diversity is unlikely to be as high as we could wish. (p. 108)
In place of elections, Landemore suggests lotteries:
If the goal is to at least replicate on the smaller scale of the representative assembly the cognitive diversity one would get by including everyone – that is, the cognitive diversity existing at the level of the group – an obvious solution is the use of random lotteries. Random lotteries would indeed produce what is known as a “descriptive representation” of the people … ensuring a statistical similarity of thoughts and preferences of the rulers and the ruled. (p. 108)
In short, Landemore contends that a deliberative assembly consisting of representatives selected at random from the (presumably, voting age) population will be epistemically better – it will make correct decisions more reliably – than a deliberative assembly of equal size the members of which are selected (at least in part) on the basis of their individual talents and abilities.
Landemore's argument for this claim depends on an erroneous assumption about the application of Hong and Page's results to deliberative assemblies. Landemore says:
These results establish that, in a problem-solving context, cognitive diversity actually matters more to the production of smart collective solutions than individual ability does. Applied to deliberative assemblies, this means that the property we should want to maximize is cognitive diversity of the group rather than individual ability. (p. 90)
This is mistaken for two reasons. First, as I argued in the previous sections, diversity has costs, and in some cases these costs will outweigh the benefits, especially if not all of the diversity is relevant to the task at hand. So maximizing diversity may not be the epistemically best strategy. And second, if, as Page says, “collective ability equals individual ability plus diversity” (Page Reference Page2007: xiv) then what we should aim to maximize is both cognitive diversity and individual ability.
In some cases simultaneously maximizing both cognitive diversity and individual ability might prove impossible. Some increases in cognitive diversity might necessarily come at the cost of a decrease in average individual ability, and vice versa. But it does not follow from the fact that we cannot maximize both that we ought to aim at maximizing only one. For it to be true that we should focus solely on maximizing cognitive diversity, it would have to be true that any gain in cognitive diversity is, epistemically speaking, worth any loss of average individual ability. But this is not the case. Given that diversity has costs, and that, as Page says, “any gains from diversity will be small,” (Page Reference Page2007: 320) we should expect that there will be some gains in average individual ability that epistemically outweigh the losses of cognitive diversity needed to achieve them.
There is also no reason to assume that every increase in average individual ability must come with an attendant loss of cognitive diversity. In fact, the nature of cognitive diversity suggests that increasing average individual ability will often concomitantly increase cognitive diversity. A cognitively diverse group is one that has many different cognitive tools at its disposal. “A tool,” Page says, “might be a perspective, such as the ability to think in another language. It might be a heuristic or even a set of heuristics, such as knowledge of calculus. It might be an interpretation. It might be a predictive model, or even a class of such models” (Page Reference Page2007: 103). Such tools are not evenly distributed across the population; some people have more tools than others.
This suggests two different ways of increasing the cognitive diversity of a group. We could increase the number of people in the group on the assumption that a larger group is more likely to contain a greater number of different cognitive tools. Landemore's argument that inclusive deliberation is epistemically better than non-inclusive deliberation is an argument for adopting this strategy. It rests on the assumption that “larger deliberating groups are simply more likely to be cognitively diverse” (p. 104). But a group does not need to be large in order to be cognitively diverse.
We can increase the cognitive diversity of a group by increasing the average number of cognitive tools possessed by its members. Suppose, for example, that each member of a group gains one additional cognitive tool. This will increase the cognitive diversity of the group as long as at least some of the newly acquired tools were not already possessed by other members of the group. It will also increase the average individual ability of the group given that, “all else being equal, the more tools a person possesses, the better she can solve problems, construct theories, and complete other cognitive tasks” (Page Reference Page2007: 105). Increasing cognitive diversity and increasing average individual ability here go hand in hand.
Returning to our deliberative assembly of 300 people, what selection procedure should we adopt to create the most cognitively diverse group possible? Landemore contends that we should select randomly from the population as a whole because the population as a whole is more cognitively diverse than any subset of it. But this is unlikely to maximize the cognitive diversity of an assembly of fixed size. A group of 300 people drawn at random from the population as a whole will contain some individuals that possess a below-average number of cognitive tools. Such a group will tend to be less cognitively diverse than a group of equal size that contains only individuals that possess a significantly above-average number of cognitive tools, provided, that is, that their sets of tools are sufficiently different from one another. So a procedure that selects individuals with large but different cognitive toolsets will tend to produce a more cognitively diverse assembly than one that selects individuals at random from the population as a whole. Selecting individuals with larger cognitive toolsets will also tend to maximize the average individual ability of the group given that individual ability is positively correlated with possession of more cognitive tools.
How might we identify and select such individuals with large but different cognitive toolsets? There are several possibilities. One is to select individuals from a diverse range of professions that require large cognitive toolsets containing many different tools that are relevant to solving political problems. Think, for example, of the cognitive skills necessary to be a successful behavioral economist, climate scientist, sociologist, doctor, journalist, technology entrepreneur, judge, or geologist. Many of these professions require a grasp of sophisticated statistical and modeling tools useful for understanding complex social and economic phenomena. Others require the ability to represent a problem in multiple ways, or to “think outside the box.” And all of them require many cognitive tools for integrating and weighing information from diverse and sometimes conflicting sources. It can plausibly be assumed that the members of such professions possess larger than average cognitive toolsets, and that many of their tools will be relevant to solving political problems. Alternatively, we could select on the basis of educational attainment. On the plausible assumption that education and training tend to increase the size of one's cognitive toolset, we could decide to randomly select our deliberative assembly from the set of all university-educated individuals.
Of course any means of identifying and selecting individuals with large cognitive toolboxes is bound to smack of elitism. And there are good moral grounds – concerns about political equality, autonomy, and so on – upon which to oppose a selection procedure that privileges such individuals who are, in most cases, already quite privileged. Such moral reasons are likely to play a decisive role in our political theorizing, but these are moral reasons, not epistemic ones. The fact that a selection procedure is morally objectionable does not preclude it from being epistemically best. Conversely, that some selection procedure is epistemically best does not entail that the procedure ought to be adopted. There are further questions about authority and legitimacy that must be answered first.Footnote 7 And once we move from ideal theories of democracy to the real world, we must also contend with questions about the political empowerment of historically oppressed groups.
For present purposes, both the details of the selection procedure and any moral objections to it are irrelevant. It is sufficient for my argument that some procedure that selects individuals with large but different cognitive toolsets is likely to produce an assembly that has both more cognitive diversity and more individual ability at its disposal than an assembly randomly selected from the population as a whole. If, as Page says, “collective ability equals individual ability plus diversity” (Page Reference Page2007: xiv), then such an assembly is likely to be epistemically superior to any democratically selected assembly. This is true whether the assembly is drawn by lottery as Landemore proposes, or selected by elections which, as Landemore says, tend to stifle cognitive diversity via selection biases and the monetary requirements of mounting a campaign.Footnote 8
In sum, the evidence Landemore musters in support of her epistemic argument for democracy turns out, on closer examination, to suggest that some form of epistocracy of the cognitively skilled is likely to be epistemically better than democracy. Once we factor in the costs of diversity, the requirement that diversity be relevant, and the limits of direct democracy, Hong and Page's findings actually seem to undermine, rather than support, Landemore's thesis that democracy is epistemically second to none.
7. CLOSING REMARKS: DIVERSITY, EPISTEMOLOGY, AND DEMOCRACY
I have argued that Landemore's account falls short of showing that democracy is epistemically better than epistocracy. I have also suggested that the work that Landemore appeals to in order to make her case actually supports the opposite conclusion, that some form of epistocracy is likely to be epistemically better than democracy. This reinforces Estlund's claim that an appeal to non-epistemic considerations is necessary to rule out epistocracy (Estlund Reference Estlund2008a: 40). However, it would be a mistake to conclude from this that there is nothing of value in Landemore's account of epistemic democracy. I will conclude by briefly outlining two positive points.
First, even if epistemic considerations cannot show that democracy is better than all non-democratic alternatives, they may still show that liberal societies – societies wherein liberal freedoms are protected such as freedom of expression, freedom of religion, and freedom of the press – are generally epistemically better than illiberal societies. The argument here would be that liberal societies are better at fostering cognitive diversity, and that cognitively diverse societies will likely be more innovative, and ultimately more successful, than less diverse societies. Such an argument sometimes seems to lurk in the background of Landemore's account. She says, for example, that, “democracy is likely to be smart only if it is also liberal” (p. 234).
Of course the argument from the value of diversity to the value of liberalism is not new. John Stuart Mill offered a particularly influential version of it in On Liberty. But Mill did not have results to back up his assertions. An analysis like Landemore's, drawing as it does on results like Hong and Page's, may thus buttress old arguments for liberal institutions. It may also provide an indirect argument for democracy, insofar as democracy is the only form of government compatible with liberalism.Footnote 9
Second, Landemore provides a framework and tools that may be used to justify particular institutional arrangements and interventions within democracies. Landemore's analysis highlights the epistemic value of diversity, which has often been overlooked by those focused on the political competence of individual voters and their elected officials. Even if, as I have argued, the epistemic value of diversity is not sufficient to justify democracy all on its own, we still have good reasons to believe that existing legislatures are not as cognitively diverse as they should be, and that the epistemic quality of such legislatures would be enhanced by increasing the diversity of their membership. Epistemic considerations may thus provide grounds for democratic reforms. This, I suggest, is where the real value of an epistemic approach to democracy lies; not in vindicating democracy against non-democratic rivals, but rather in revealing avenues by which we can build better democracies.Footnote 10