There was recently an addition to the general frenzy that is Annenberg Hall, against the cacophonous background of clattering dishes and freshmen’s shouts. With lots of emphatic gesticulations and alternating expressions of both approval and disbelief, a friend of mine and I were engaged in a conversation, contentious to the point of farce, about the proper civic and legal channels for revitalizing the American political system.

Normally, I would not consider my personal conversations worthy of being repeated, let alone shared with an audience of readers, but since this one addressed—as much as any conversation between two freshmen could—the causes and symptoms of the current American political dysfunction, some parts will be (not too painfully, I hope) recapitulated here.

He and I, who both identify as liberals and have the same political agenda, asserted very different philosophical interpretations of the roles of law and civic engagement as they pertain to American politics. The discussion began amicably, with our pinpointing the same source of political corruption: the systematic legitimization, by the Supreme Court, of unfettered campaign contributions.

The Court has retreated from its rulings in the 1989 case Austin v. Michigan Chamber of Commerce and the 2003 case McConnell v. FEC, in which it upheld the constitutionality of campaign finance restrictions as measures not only reasonable but also necessary for protecting against actual corruption and the “appearance of corruption.” Now rejecting this interpretation of Congressional regulatory powers, the majority of the Court has asserted, most notably in the 2010 case Citizens United v. Federal Election Commission, that money is political speech, protected by the First Amendment. The Court has said that all sources of independent expenditures, whether issued from a single “speaker” or a corporation, must be granted equal latitude as “speech.” Political speech, publicly spoken and expressed through democratic channels, is now on equal legal footing with private, anonymous financial donations to Super PACs and the like.

While my friend acknowledged the effects of campaign finance deregulation upon the practice and character of the American system of government, he argued that the present state of political gridlock and discordance was less a symptom of deregulation and more of voter ignorance and disengagement. The strength of government, he argued, was contingent upon civic engagement, and the strength of civic engagement upon education.

I entirely agreed with this point. As Horace Mann, the champion of free and compulsory public education, wrote in 1848, “It may be an easy thing to make a Republic; but it is a very laborious thing to make Republicans; and woe to the republic that rests upon no better foundations than ignorance, selfishness, and passion!”

Similarly, Alexis de Tocqueville described in 1835 the American political process as a “science” perfected through common experience and practice. “The most democratic country on the face of the earth is that in which men have, in our time, carried to the highest perfection the art of pursuing in common the object of their common desires and have applied this new science to the greatest number of purposes. Is this the result of accident, or is there in reality any necessary connection between the principle of association and that of equality?” With the language of civic equality made manifest in both its founding documents and in its political structure, American government requires the continued “diffusion of education,” as Horace Mann put it, to enable citizen engagement.

But this vision of this interaction between the citizen and the law, described perhaps most cogently by Jean-Jacques Rousseau in “The Social Contract,” can only apply to a system of governance in which the “general will” that directs the course of political affairs originates from within the citizenry and not from a private, external source.

If voters were made aware, my friend argued, of the extent to which monetary contributions influence elected officials, then surely citizens would take it upon themselves to find potential candidates among them to return civic character and public function to American political offices. Representative—in the true sense of the word—democracy would be restored. While this would be ideal, the candidate with the greatest financial resources will be the one who captures the election, for his own gain and also on behalf of the interests he represents. His election will help to ensure that the status quo—deregulation and the disproportionate influence of private interests that it engenders—remains in place.

The influence of money must be removed from American law and politics. Representative democracy is contingent upon the notion that citizens are of equal standing; their collective will should be made manifest in law. If financially powerful groups are allowed to capture entire political institutions for themselves, then, in effect, representative democracy is supplanted by an oligarchic system of influences. Financial prowess can and will drown out the political speech of a popular movement; the latter cannot overcome the immense resources of the former. For this reason, it is only through the judicial system that the capacity for political expression can be restored to its rightful speakers.

Rebecca C. Brooks ’17, a Crimson editorial comper, lives in Greenough Hall.