Johnson or Corbyn? Democracy is in trouble when we’re obsessed with leaders

Coverage of elections, including this one, inevitably depicts them as a popularity contest between the party leaders – focused on fluctuations in opinion polls and satisfaction ratings. Even where issues rather than personalities seemed to occupy the agenda – with Brexit in the case of Conservatives and the NHS in the case of Labour – the analysis remained concentrated on the respective leader’s handling of these questions. We focus on individuals rather than institutions, on leaders rather than movements.

Consider the disproportionate attention given to leadership debates and the criteria used to assess them. Which of the candidates “won” the debate? Did Boris Johnson convince people he is “fit for office”? Did Jeremy Corbyn look “prime ministerial”?

Democracy is in trouble when the image of the messenger is more important than the content of the message. And yet the former seems to have been the question that has preoccupied commentators. Yes, we were told, the Labour party manifesto is its most radical ever, but is the leader going to enjoy the job of being PM?

It shouldn’t need to be said, but enjoying office is not essential to responsibly exercising political duties. Our representatives don’t need to have more passion, more expertise, more charisma, better looks, more ordered lives than the ordinary citizens they represent.

If a polity were ruled by good people, Plato wrote in The Republic, people would try as hard to avoid office as they currently try to obtain it. Politics is a duty, it is not a vocation. The more fond politicians are of their jobs, the more likely they are to cling to office. The greater dexterity they have in exercising power, the higher the risk that they will abuse it one day.

The modern professionalisation of politics is grounded on an implicit asymmetry – between those who rule through their greater skills and expert knowledge, and the ordinary citizens that make up the rest of the body politic. Political leaders are praised for possessing the right talents combined with the right experience, a set of qualities that is thought to enable them to make appropriate judgment under increasingly complex circumstances. This is the politics of virtue, a very different one from the politics of justice.

The celebration of expertise in politics belongs to an anti-democratic tradition, one that has often been deployed to undermine the power of the masses – to dismiss rule by the many (democracy) in favour of rule by the best (aristocracy). Where only the best people rule, so the argument goes, political institutions are more stable; the more experienced and skilled the leaders, the less vulnerable the political community.

The division of labour across society – and the differing skills required for different jobs – is often invoked to explain why politics needs expertise. In increasingly complex societies, marked by the specialisation of tasks and requirements of efficient performance, it is not hard to see why. Representing your peers in parliament or leading a government is a job like any other, like being a doctor or a plumber, some would argue. One individual has the task to fix broken societies, just as another helps fix broken legs, while another repairs broken sinks.

Yet it is a mistake to think of politics as a task on a par with all these others. When elected representatives are authorised by us, ordinary citizens, it is not because they have special charisma or skills or a claim to know better. If they do, we should be wary. Elected representatives are entitled to act on our behalf because they share our beliefs and commitments. If they don’t, we have a duty to ask for change.

When we vote for a party that reflects our principles, we articulate a judgment on how we want society to be, and choose individuals that endorse that view on our behalf. They don’t need to be better than us ordinary citizens. In fact, they ought to be like us, because one day we may be in their place.

Democratic legitimacy is not served by perfect leaders – it is endangered by them. Charisma can undermine proper scrutiny if the arguments of the many are silenced by the rhetoric of one. When democratic institutions are strong, one does not need to rely on the power of single individuals.

This is not to deny that certain conditions must be in place for citizens to exercise that power adequately. It is also not to deny that a degree of familiarity with how institutions work is bound to be of help. Clearly, in contemporary liberal societies these conditions are met by only a select few.

But if a certain set of knowledge and skills is required to be active in politics, surely the right response is to educate all citizens so as to spread competence equally, to seek to distribute these skills and assets more widely, and to collectively build the political capacity to achieve that goal. It is definitely not to celebrate the virtues of those who possess “leadership skills” compared to those who do not.

• Lea Ypi is a professor in political theory in the government department at the London School of Economics

Related: The campaigns: Corbyn focused on leavers while Johnson stayed with fan base