Multi-party systems are theoretically flexible because they represent a wide spectrum of diverse viewpoints, which is intended to enable course corrections. The core idea is that a diversity of thought is meant to prevent ideological stagnation. When a single approach is failing, a party with a different perspective can offer alternative solutions that may not have been considered otherwise.
In practice, however, these systems often ensure there are no significant deviations from the status quo through a political process known as trasformismo. A flexible, centrist coalition tends to become dominant by absorbing and neutralizing opposition parties with differing ideas. Instead of engaging with a diversity of opinion, the ruling consensus simply co-opts any legitimate challenger, offering them a place within the power structure in exchange for abandoning their more transformative demands.
It’s a process that creates the illusion of change while ensuring the core of the system remains untouched. Genuine ideological diversity is shunned because any viewpoint that fundamentally challenges the status quo is either isolated or absorbed. Consequently, the foundational democratic concept of a government that executes the public will frequently devolves into what can be called a “procedural democracy.” Success within the system starts being measured by adherence to established processes, such as holding elections and passing legislation, rather than by the achievement of substantive, material outcomes for its citizens.
A focus on procedure over results makes these systems inadequate to handle external pressures, especially when those pressures cause a divergence between the system’s model of reality and the material world. Procedural systems are optimized to function under a stable, predictable set of conditions. However, exogenous shocks like natural disasters, rapid climate shifts, geopolitical realignments, or pandemics create new material realities that render the old model obsolete.
These events demand immediate, tangible adaptations, such as building resilient infrastructure, securing new energy resources, or reorganizing supply chains. A system designed to debate process is structurally incapable of the rapid, decisive action needed to marshal labor and resources in response. It continues to follow established procedures even when the reality they were designed for no longer exists. This creates a fundamental disconnect between its procedural function and the urgent material needs of society, rendering it dangerously ineffective in a major crisis.
To understand this dynamic, we must first accept a core principle: a system’s true purpose is revealed by what it does, not by its professed goals. We must observe its actual behaviors to understand how it functions, which is often quite different from its stated intentions. Though there may be genuine intent to achieve certain goals, all dynamic systems ultimately adapt to the selection pressures of their environments. In human societies, people tend to exhibit behaviors that advance their own goals within the established set of rules. When these selection pressures, such as laws and social norms, fail to align with purported ideals, behavior inevitably adapts to the actual pressures.
This phenomenon is perfectly illustrated by what is known as Goodhart’s Law: when a measure becomes a target, it ceases to be a good measure. A clear example is the Wells Fargo account fraud scandal. The company’s stated goal was to deepen customer relationships, using the number of accounts per customer as a metric to measure this. However, this metric became a high-pressure sales target, and employee performance was tied directly to it. Consequently, employees learned to optimize for what was actually being measured. Instead of building customer trust, they secretly opened millions of unauthorized accounts to meet their quotas. The behavior adapted to the selection pressure of high sales targets that directly contradicted the stated ideal of customer satisfaction.
Similarly, misaligned incentives manifest as key selection pressures within parliamentary multi-party systems, each steering the focus away from substantive, long-term outcomes.
First, parties must maintain broad appeal to win elections, meaning their platforms must fall within the Overton window that forms the range of ideas acceptable to the mainstream. Any party that strays too far from the accepted consensus will fail to gather support, yet popular views do not always align with effective solutions. A classic example is urban housing development. Experts tend to agree that increasing housing density by allowing more apartments and multi-family homes is the most effective solution to the housing affordability crisis. However, these projects often face fierce opposition from local homeowner groups who worry about changes to their neighborhood’s character. Since they are an organized voting bloc, politicians block new housing to appease them, even though greater density would benefit the wider public.
Second, the short-term nature of election cycles makes undertaking long-term projects politically irrational. Since a party may not be in power to take credit for a project’s eventual success, there is little incentive for sustained investment. A prominent example is the California High-Speed Rail project. First envisioned decades ago, it has been plagued by shifting political support and partisan budget battles as each new administration re-evaluates its funding and scope, making consistent progress nearly impossible.
Finally, in capitalist societies, those with significant capital can exercise far more influence over the political process than ordinary citizens through campaign funding, media ownership, and lobbying, further skewing priorities away from the public good. As a result, political parties end up primarily representing the interests of a small, wealthy minority rather than the society at large.
These political pressures create an environment where simplifying complex issues becomes a requirement for survival. Such misaligned incentives lead to a critical dysfunction: the conflation of identifying a societal problem with prescribing its solution. While the public is uniquely positioned to articulate pressing concerns, crafting the optimal response demands specialized expertise. However, because parties are constrained by the pressures described above, they are incentivized to offer simplistic slogans rather than engage with complex, expert-driven policies.
One example is urban traffic congestion. The public readily identifies it as a problem requiring action. However, crafting the optimal response—be it new roads, expanded public transit, or a hybrid approach—necessitates deep knowledge of urban planning, engineering, public finance, and the complex trade-offs involved. Most societal challenges exhibit similar complexity. Hence, political slogans used to win over an electorate that lacks a full grasp of the implications form an inadequate basis for sound policymaking.
The very existence of multiple, competing parties with short windows to act fosters a fragmented landscape where coherent, long-term strategy is replaced by procedural maneuvering. It’s an environment that’s not conducive to delivering substantive results, as the appearance of action is prioritized over tangible outcomes.
Addressing deep-seated societal problems demands a strategic vision and sustained investment that can span decades, a timeline that far exceeds the tenure of any single administration. Thus, the very structure of systems with regular electoral cycles is fundamentally at odds with the need for long-term commitment. A governing party has only a short window to implement its agenda before potentially being replaced, creating a scenario where competing visions constantly interrupt coherent, long-range strategy.
Any ambitious, large-scale undertaking will inevitably encounter setbacks. When these difficulties arise, they create openings for opposition parties to capitalize on public discontent, often by advocating for the project’s drastic alteration or abandonment. Thus, zero-sum political competition fosters an environment where significant deviations from the status quo become politically perilous.
Consequently, the system incentivizes incremental changes with visible, short-term wins, while meaningful, long-term transformations are easily stymied or reversed by subsequent administrations. While such a system may appear functional when societal conditions are stable, it inevitably falters in a crisis. It is precisely during these periods, when a fundamental mismatch exists between the social framework and a new material reality, that decisive action is imperative. The system, however, is designed to inhibit this very sort of action, making it unable to deliver substantive change.
Beyond these structural issues lies a more profound challenge rooted in the inseparable nature of economics and politics. When a society’s means of production are treated as private property, the most critical decisions regarding the allocation of labor and resources are inherently removed from the sphere of public, democratic debate. If the citizenry cannot vote on the fundamentals of its own economic life, can the society truly be called democratic?
By emphasizing private property as a cornerstone of freedom, liberalism provides the rationale for vast wealth accumulation by a few, an outcome that directly contradicts its promise of fairness and equality as the needs of the society at large go unmet. The disparity in wealth creates a fundamental power imbalance between the capital-owning class, who can dictate terms of employment and control profit, and the working class, who depend on selling their labor for survival. In this context, pronouncements of freedom and democracy serve as an ideological veil for inherently undemocratic economic relations.
Empirical research lends credence to this critique. The landmark study “Testing Theories of American politics” by Martin Gilens and Benjamin Page found that in the U.S., economic elites and organized business interests wield significant influence over government policy, while the preferences of average citizens have a negligible impact. A clear, ongoing example is the debate over prescription drug prices in America. Despite polls consistently showing that over 80% of Americans support allowing the government to negotiate lower drug prices, legislative progress has been repeatedly stifled. The pharmaceutical industry spends hundreds of millions of dollars annually on lobbying and campaign contributions, creating a political environment where the financial interests of a few corporations override the overwhelming will of the public. Consequently, the behavior of the system resembles an oligarchy rather than a democracy, where the interests of the capital-owning class systematically outweigh those of the working majority.
In a society where economic power is heavily concentrated, democracy, even under the most favorable conditions, remains constrained by the narrow limits set by these economic relations, thereby effectively becoming a democracy for the minority, for the propertied classes, and for the affluent.
Viewed from the perspective of tangible outcomes, the implementation of democracy in the West appears deeply flawed. The inherent selection pressures of the system prevent meaningful course corrections precisely when they become necessary, a failure now escalating into a “polycrisis” across Europe. Disparate crises such as high energy costs, rising inflation, and security dilemmas compound one another, revealing liberal model’s inability to adapt.
In Germany, the industrial model built on cheap Russian energy has collapsed, yet political paralysis makes the massive, state-led investment needed for a green transition impossible. France faces a severe financial crisis that has destabilized its government, while the United Kingdom is experiencing a steep decline in living standards. Widespread inaction in the face of existential threats demonstrates how the system’s mechanics prevent necessary change.
The economic paralysis in Europe is directly related to a rapid shift in the geopolitical landscape resulting from the rise of multipolarity. The end of the unipolar moment is acting as a major stress test, revealing that liberal democracies are unable to handle rapid global realignment. Attempts to merely maintain the status quo in a world that is no longer what it once was only deepen the crisis in the West.
Ultimately, without a path toward making significant structural changes, the system becomes ossified. The rigid stagnation on display is the direct opposite of the dynamism and flexibility liberal democracy purports to offer. The system is adept at preserving the status quo but tragically ill-equipped for the transformative change required to survive a time of crisis.