How the Democracy Sausage  Gets Made â or Doesnât
 The Interpreter newsletter, by Max Fisher and Amanda Taub
Whatâs the longest youâve ever had to stand   in line to vote?
If you live in a wealthy democratic country   that isnât the United States, that probably seems like an odd question.   Itâs like being asked about the longest youâve ever had to stand in line at   a supermarket checkout. Sure, maybe thereâs been a crowded day on occasion.   But the wait was never long enough to keep track of, much less remember   later when pressed by some lady writing an email newsletter.            Â
 Itâs different in the United States. For many American voters, casting a ballot is a task that requires careful planning, physical endurance, and an investment of at least time and often   also money in the form of lost wages. And that burden is, like so many   other things, much heavier on Black communities. A 2017 study   found that Black voters reported waiting twice as long as white voters to   cast their ballots. A 2019 working paper   used cellphone data to measure wait times, and found that voters in   entirely Black neighborhoods waited 29 percent longer to vote and were 74   percent more likely to wait for more than 30 minutes than those in white   neighborhoods.
That this is tolerated at all, and for so   long, communicates a disturbing comfort with voter suppression. Americans   have become inured to this, I think. I feel that I have, too â even though   I have more experience than most with how bad the problems can be. I used   to volunteer as an election-protection lawyer, answering hotline calls and   observing polling places to make sure that voters werenât being turned away. Â
One of my proudest moments as a young   attorney was when I helped a woman vote using a marijuana citation as a   proof of residency (It included her name, address and date of birth! It was   an official government document! Boom, lawyered.) But even though I   was so concerned about voter suppression that I took time off work to help   combat it, and even though I was specifically trained to spot these   problems, I donât recall ever taking a step back to wonder why my efforts were necessary at all.
It wasnât that I couldnât imagine a   world in which there were plenty of opportunities for everyone to vote without   hassle or stress. It just never even occurred to me to try.
Which is, I think, an under-discussed   element of the whole problem. In a political culture where acceptance of   low voter turnout is that ingrained, voting gets treated like something   thatâs not really that desirable anyway.
The Knight Foundation recently published a report   about nonvoters in America, and one particular finding stood out to me:   nearly half of nonvoters said that had never been asked to vote at any   point in their lives. Not by a parent. Not by a friend. Not by a   teacher, or church, or workplace. Not even by a political campaign. And,   just as shocking, among those who had voted, the numbers were only   slightly better: only 62 percent had ever been asked to vote.Â
No one ever asked! In a country that prides   itself on being a beacon of democracy and exceptionalism, approximately 40   percent of the electorate had never even encountered the suggestion that   they ought to cast a ballot.
Itâs easy to see how small a step it is from   accepting that only the most motivated and civic-minded citizens to vote to   imagining that voter suppression isnât really that big a deal.Â
After all, if voting is a chore, then whoâs   to say whether low turnout is because of restrictive I.D. requirements,   long lines, polling station closures, and all of the other things that make   it more difficult for people to cast their ballots, or if maybe people just   werenât that motivated to vote in the first place?
But comparing the United States with other   countries is a stark reminder that voting feels like a chore because of choices America has made.Â
In Australia, where over 90 percent of registered voters voted in 2016, voting is mandatory, and citizens who   donât show may incur small fines. But many polling places also have   carnivalesque atmospheres, with portable barbecues grilling hot âdemocracy   sausagesâ and stands selling treats. In Scandinavian countries, where   turnout is around 80 percent, voter registration is automatic, and the   government contacts voters to notify them of their polling places and   remind them to vote.
The United States could have automatic   registration and democracy sausages, too. Itâs not as if thereâs some sort   of proprietary technology. The long lines are a choice.