Machiavelli and the principle of distinction

In chapter XLVII of his Discourses, Machiavelli tells two stories:

The Roman People having become annoyed with the Consular name, and wanting to be able either to choose as Consuls men of the Plebs, or to limit their authority, the Nobility in order not to discredit the Consular authority by either change, took the middle course, and were content that four Tribunes with Consular power be created, who could come from the Plebs as well as from the Nobles. The Plebs were content with this, as it seemed to them to destroy the Consulship and give them a part in the highest ranks. From this a notable case arose, that when it came to the creation of these Tribunes, and they could have selected all Plebs, the Roman people chose all Nobles. Whence Titus Livius says these words: The results of this election show how different minds are when in contention for liberty and for honors, differing according to certain standards when they (have to) make impartial judgments. And in examining whence this can happen, I believe it proceeds from men deceiving themselves in general matters, (and) not so much in particular matters. As a general thing, it appeared to the Roman Pleb that it merited the Consulship because they were the majority in the City, because they bore more of the danger in war, (and) because they were the ones who with their arms maintained Rome free and made it powerful: and this desire seeming to them to be reasonable ((as has been said)), they turned to obtain this authority by whatever means. But when they had to make a judgment of their particular men, recognized their weaknesses, and judged that none of them should merit that which all together it seemed to them they merited. So that ashamed of them (their own), they had recourse to those who merited it. Of which decision Titus Livius, deservingly admiring it, said these words: Where is there now this modesty and equity, and this loftiness of spirit, which once pervaded all the people?

In corroboration of this there can be cited another notable example which ensued in Capua after Hannibal had defeated the Romans at Cannae: while all Italy was aroused by this defeat, Capua was still in a state of tumult because of the hatred that existed between the People and the Senate: and Pacovius Calanus finding himself at that time in the supreme Magistracy, and recognizing the peril to which that City was exposed because of the tumults, endeavored through his rank to reconcile the Plebs with the Nobility: and having come to this decision, he had the Senate assemble, and narrated to them the hatred which the People had against them, and the dangers to which they were exposed of being killed by them, if the City was given up to Hannibal, as the power of the Romans was afflicted: afterwards he added that if they wanted to leave the managing of this matter to him, he would do so in a way that they would be united together; but, as he wanted to do so, he would lock them inside the palace, and by seemingly giving the people the power to castigate them he would save them. The Senate yielded to this thought, and he called the people to talk to them; and having shut up the Senate in the palace, (and) said to them that the time had come to be able to subdue the haughtiness of the Nobility and avenge themselves for the injuries received from them (the Senate), having them all shut up under his custody: but because he believed they would not want their City to remain without a government, it would be necessary ((if they wanted to kill the old Senators)) to create new ones. And, therefore, he had put all the names of the Senators into a bourse and would begin to draw them in their presence, and that one after another of those drawn would die after they should find his successor. And beginning to draw one, at his name, there was raised a very great noise, calling him haughty, cruel and arrogant: but when Pacovius requested that they make the exchange, the haranguing completely stopped: and after some time one of the Plebs was nominated, at whose name some begun to whistle, some to laugh, some to speak ill in one way and some in another: and thus there followed one after the other, that all those who were named were judged by them unworthy of the Senatorial rank.

Machiavelli’s interpretation of the stories seems absurd today – few would imagine that hereditary nobles are in fact more meritorious and deserving of authority than commoners.

A more reasonable interpretation of the stories would see them simply as a demonstration of the principle of distinction: the mechanics of elections are such that the winners must be outstanding people, people who manage to capture the attention of the public. In a society where the tools for capturing attention – organization, social status and material wealth – are controlled by the nobility, it would be very unusual for a non-noble to manage to win an election. Furthermore, those few non-nobles who do manage to capture public attention to the extent that would enable them to conceivably win elections would likely be at least as different from the typical member of society as the nobles are, and would not be any more virtuous or competent than the typical noble candidate is.

The history of Athens demonstrates the dynamics involved very clearly (and puts the lie to Machiavelli’s interpretation – he should have known better). Over the decades, as Athens shifted from being an aristocratic agrarian society into being a democratic capitalist society, influence in the mass political arena – control of elected positions and influence in the Assembly – transitioned gradually from the hands of the aristocracy to the hands of successful businessmen. While the people lost their reverence toward the aristocracy, elected offices and power in the Assembly remained in elite hands (i.e., remained non-democratic).

As absurd as Machiavelli’s claims appear, a version of those claims is an important part of the modern liberal dogma of electoralism. The dogma asserts that the fact that a person or a party win an election demonstrates that they have merit and deserve authority, while the average, anonymous Plebs do not. The dogma rejects the idea that these qualities belong to a genetically defined sector of society and emphasizes that such merit could belong to those starting from humble beginnings – and indeed is willfully blind to the statistical fact that electoral success is highly correlated with innate status – but, like Machiavelli, it regards electoral success as an indicator of merit.

Realistically, the main difference between the winning candidates and the average citizen is that the former managed to garner the public’s attention, while the latter didn’t. The idea that the ability to garner attention is associated with merit and deserves the reward of power is just as unfounded in our days as it was in the days of Hannibal.