ARMCHAIR POLITICKING

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EDITORIAL ARMCHAIR POLITICKING
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Contrary to the consensus of the social media surfing club, casting their digitized stones of hypocrisy, I am not aggravated by the outcome of the March Primaries, especially as it relates to local races. However, I am concerned to hear that we recorded a slightly higher voting numbers during this election while reflecting about a third of the potential turnout.

Skipping the proverbial research rock across the surface of reported election data, Texas posted record-breaking raw turnout in this year’s primaries, with millions of ballots cast across both parties. But “record-breaking” is a pretty slick phrase in a state five times larger than Pennsylvania, because you can set a record and still have most of your neighbors sitting on the couch like the whole thing is a reality show called America’s Got Leadership.

While Fisher and Stonewall counties reported voter percentages well into the 30s, others landed in the twenties. Jefferson County reported 24.5%. Webb County reported 21.7%.

Those aren’t just one-offs. They’re ongoing and worsening symptoms.

Since it’s likely that most of us put down stakes in the Big Empty because you believe in self-government, this is the part that should raise concern. Our local races are often decided by even fewer people than the statewide races, which is troubling because in many of our local contests the primary isn’t the first round.

It’s practically the only round.

Too many of our local seats go uncontested. Sometimes the “election” is really just a name printed on a ballot, like a receipt for options didn’t actually have for but got charged for anyway. And in some places, especially smaller governing bodies, we don’t just have low turnout.

We have no turnout — because the election gets canceled for lack of participation. Texas law allows certain political subdivisions to cancel an election when every race is unopposed and the write-in window has passed.

That may be efficient. It may save money. It may even be legally clean. But it it’s also a little democratically embarrassing.

Canceling an election isn’t just a scheduling decision. It’s a collective confession. It’s the community admitting, in writing, that nobody cared enough to run against anybody.

Some folks will say that’s fine. They’ll argue it means things are stable. No drama. No controversy. Everyone’s happy.

I think most of us have lived long enough to know better.

Uncontested races are not proof of harmony. Most of the time they’re proof of apathy, intimidation, exhaustion, or resignation. Sometimes they’re evidence that a small group has so convinced the rest of the community that the door is locked, nobody bothers to try the knob.

And low turnout is the doorstop that keeps it shut.

Here’s the frustrating truth about local government: it only requires enough people to be asleep in the backseat that a small, motivated group can steer the whole machine. Some drivers are Smoky & the Bandit, while others are Thelma & Louise.

Budgets still pass. Contracts still get signed. Policies still get adopted. Taxes still get collected. Roads still get ignored or fixed. Water lines still hold… until they don’t.

And the people who didn’t vote will still be affected by every one of those decisions, because the government doesn’t only govern the people who participate. It governs us all.

I’ve heard the excuses. You’ve heard them too.

“My vote won’t matter.” “Politicians are all the same.”

“It’s already decided anyway.” “I don’t have time.”

That’s the language of surrender. It’s people handing over their say-so, then acting surprised when the people who take it don’t give it back.

The best part of living in small towns is that we still have access. You can see your leaders at the grocery store. You can walk into meetings. You can call people by name. You can ask questions without needing a lobbyist or a press pass.

The worst part of living in small towns is that we sometimes act like those privileges don’t require maintenance.

There is no “Set it and forget it” mode in Government.

If you don’t vote, you don’t get to act shocked when your local government becomes a closed loop. If you don’t run, you can’t complain that nobody offered you a better option. If you don’t show up, you don’t get to claim the system shut you out.

Democracy is not a subscription service. You don’t pay for it once and receive monthly deliveries of good government. It’s more like an old truck: if you don’t repair leaks and replace parts, it might still limp along on the shoulder — but not forever, and eventually, you’ll be on foot with your thumb in the air.

If you want leadership that acts accountable, then you have to have citizens that pay attention. Because when turnout stays low, uncontested races multiply, and elections get canceled, the message is simple: We’re no longer governed by “the will of the people,” but by the will of the few who bothered to show up.