WorldView:When casting my vote during the recent general election, I reflected upon the fact that my task was a simple one, at least when compared to voters in California, writes Anthony O'Halloran.
Reading the California secretary of state's guide to the November 2006 elections emphasises this point. It is a detailed document, all of 190 pages in length.
And it needs to be long; the average Californian has a lot of votes to cast. Bear in mind that the November 2006 elections were not confined to the house of Congress in Washington. Also up for election were state, county, and city officials.
Add California's version of direct democracy to this mix and the task of the average voter becomes challenging. A total of 13 propositions (referendums of sorts) had to be decided upon. Ranging across several policy spheres, teasing out the merits of each proposition must have been a decidedly complex process.
The Californian system allows citizens to initiate propositions on virtually any topic. Propositions can relate to either ordinary legislation or amendments to the state constitution.
Should the legislature at some future point seek to amend statute law, which originated as an initiative, it is obliged, unless otherwise authorised, to refer the amended legislation back to the people.
Of the 13 propositions that had to be decided upon last November, no less than eight were initiatives of citizens. The remaining five were put on the ballot paper by the legislature.
A fairly typical Californian voter was a resident of Vista City in San Diego county. Apart from 13 state propositions, there were three local propositions from San Diego county. Forty four candidates stood for state executive offices - with positions such as governor and treasurer appearing on the ballot.
There were a total of 13 candidates for state and federal legislative seats. Electors also had to confirm or reject no less than 18 judicial appointments. There were a further 13 candidates for city and district boards.
It is all too easy to mock California's apparent democratic eccentricity, when in reality the system at least strives not to rely totally on representative and elitist understandings of democracy. Whilst the system can be confusing and messy, neither trait makes it undemocratic.
Of course, since ancient Greece, direct democracy has occupied a revered and mythical place in political philosophy. Often described as democracy in its purest form, representative democracy is considered the poor relation of its classical ancestor.
However, despite democratic theory's tendency to eulogise Athenian democracy, sentimentality should not displace critical analysis. After all, the right to vote was confined to property owning males.
Nevertheless, the normative ideal of all citizens directly participating in the polity's life retains a powerful resonance within democratic theory.
But, for several reasons, translating this ideal into political reality is, to say the least, problematic. In large-scale polities, assemblies of all citizens where policy is debated in face to face encounters are not feasible. As such, the polity's scale and population are insurmountable barriers. Even if the problems of scale could be overcome, significant barriers remain.
How many citizens would actually attend assembly meetings? In the much-vaunted New England town hall meetings, participation levels tend to be very low.
And of those who actually attend, only a moderate percentage actually participate. Then there is the crucial question of how well citizens are informed. Or, to what extent can citizens grapple with highly complex proposals that require technical understanding.
Information deficits and complexity pose an equally major challenge for contemporary representative institutions. Parliamentarians legislate across a vast array of policy spheres.
Even with good research support, parliamentarians can at best hope to specialise in a number of limited fields. In the context of globalisation, these concerns become more pronounced for representative assemblies and potential spaces of direct democracy alike.
In the United States, the founding fathers' intentions were less than democratic when they established the congress of the new federal republic.
Eighteenth-century elites equated democracy with direct democracy and equated direct democracy with mob rule by commoners. For the founding fathers, therefore, direct democracy was deeply feared.
Equally, direct democracy was not deemed feasible in any meaningful sense, given the already large-scale republic.
Interestingly though, some of the anti-federalists still clung to the hope of operating small-scale town republics in the context of a political settlement based on a loose alliance of sovereign states.
The founding fathers thus allayed their fears by establishing federal representative institutions which were removed from the passions of the people. Legislators were not to be mere instruments of their electorate.
Rather, deliberating upon the polity's good in concert, legislators were deemed the best qualified to make decisions.
The seeds of a representative elite were thus firmly planted in the republic's founding moment.
What lessons can be learned from Californian democracy? The problem of scale is surmountable via a propositions system. However, issues of complexity and information remain unresolved. And combining propositions with a host of other elections aggravates this situation. There is also a danger of voter fatigue, which is reflected in a low voter turnout.
So, on the next occasion you vote, spare a thought for your Californian counterpart, who on November 7th, 2006 had to contend with a total of 88 candidates and 16 propositions.
Even a classical Athenian might conclude this is a form of democratic overload.
Anthony O'Halloran was a visiting professor of political science at California State University, during 2006.