THE DEMOCRATIC EIGENSOLUTION 1

In this part we consider the simplest form of the Problem of Government. That is the case
where the set of individuals is given and includes those individuals discussing the problem.
We wish to determine what sorts of propositions we may put concerning the method by
which to aggregate the preferences of these individuals.

As noted previously, the problem of how to aggregate preferences has been considered for
millennia with a wide variety of conflicting – indeed mutually exclusive - solutions proposed.
The difficulty lies in the fact that all proposed solutions necessarily involve a component of
individual preference, and that raises the question of how to aggregate those conflicting
preferences.

We may trace this problem back to the very nature of argumentation as described in the
following passage:

If A is trying to prove something to B that B has doubts about, then citing the very
matter in question will not do any good. In general, for A to convince B, A must
marshal facts that B accepts then show that they justify the claim at issue.

Now, however, A seems to run into a problem. A cannot cite a proposition as a

reason for itself, for that would be circular reasoning. If, however, A cites some other
propositions as premises leading to the conclusion he is trying to establish, the
question naturally arises why these premises should be accepted. Does A not have to
present arguments for them as well? Yet if A does that, A will introduce further
premises that are also in need of proof, and so on indefinitely. It now looks as if
every argument, to be successful, will have to be infinitely long.

The answer to this ancient problem depends on the activity of arguing or presenting
reasons relying on a shared set of beliefs, and on a certain amount of trust. When we
present reasons, we try to cite those shared beliefs – things that will not in fact be
challenged. 2

What we find in matters of government is that there are often no shared beliefs which enable
the “correct” policy to be proved by the mechanisms of argument. In such cases, the
interested parties remain irreconcilably at odds with conflicting preferences on what ought to
be done. If a decision is to be made then it must be through some aggregation of conflicting
preferences which results in one or more “winners” and one or more “losers”. The losers
may be forced to accept the outcome but they need not accept that the winners have
demonstrated the correctness of their policy.

1
This extract from the Letter to Tom outlines the solution to the simplest form of The Problem of Government.
I have clarified and expanded certain parts of the argument including the discussion of privileged sets so as to
highlight the parallel between the null set of privileged individuals and the zero term of the Legendre
Polynomial. (Current update: 18-8-2021)
2
Fogelin and Sinnott-Armstrong, Understanding Arguments, An Introduction to Informal Logic, Fifth Edition,
Harcourt Brace & Company, 1997, p40.
The procedure by which preferences are aggregated (the “aggregation device”) need not be a
majority vote of all individuals. In a prefect autocracy, for example, the autocrat’s preference
prevails and all other preferences are discarded. More generally, the output of an aggregation
device will depend upon the preferences of more than one individual. It may involve direct
voting, or elected bodies such as legislatures, or appointed bodies such as courts, and each of
these may interact with the others. There may be direct voting for a legislature, the
legislature may appoint judges and judges may rule upon the eligibility of members to sit in
the legislature or upon the legality of some of their actions.

Whatever mechanism is used, it may be regarded as a device which:

• accepts as input the rank order preferences of all the individuals in the “set”
(remembering that in this first part it is assumed that the “set” is given ); and

• produces as output a single rank order preference for the group.

In matters of government, therefore, what is commonly described as “logical” argument or

“reasoned” argument is not actually logical or reasoned in the sense of demonstrating
correctness from agreed premises. Rather it is persuasive or rhetorical argument which takes
place within the context of an assumed (a priori) aggregation device. Advocates for certain
options naturally seek to sway the preferences of others to match their own in the hope that
by altering the input preferences they will be able to swing the resulting aggregate preference
to the outcome they want.

Indeed, the very description of such argumentation as “logical” or “reasoned” is itself an

example of rhetoric and persuasion. The practitioners of such argumentation seek to
convince others of the validity and correctness of their activity by attributing to it qualities
which do not strictly apply.

The Problem of Government arises when we go one step further again and consider how to
determine the aggregation device itself.

I’m sure many people have had the experience of witnessing some pompous journalist or
commentator announce his intention to present an article on “democracy” only to find that he
delivers up an article on autocracy instead. Such essays invariably comprise platitudinous
motherhood statements blended with an exposition of the author’s own individual preferences
for what the system of government ought to be. The latter is usually supported by “reasons”
which depend on the acceptance of his values by his audience.

This phenomenon is not confined to modern essays on democracy. History is littered with
people purporting to demonstrate by argumentation what a good system of government ought
to be.

If, however, we examine such attempts carefully we invariably find nothing more than
individual preferences hidden behind a veil of rhetorical fallacies such as those discussed in
the Preliminaries section. To recap, these include:

• petitio principii: effectively stating one’s own preference that one’s own preference is
the correct solution;

2
• is-ought fallacies: stating that one’s own preference ought to be regarded as correct
because of certain facts, or putative facts, about the world;

• fallacies of argumentum ad verecundiam: reliance on supposed authorities to confirm

the correctness of one’s preference without demonstrating the source of their
authority;

• semantic fallacies: attempts to prove one’s preferences by transferring the meaning of

words used in one context (typically a meaning with a strong emotional value) to
another context in which the meaning cannot apply; and

• argumentum ad pares: convincing all of one’s peers that your commonly held
preference (based on your shared beliefs and values) is the correct solution without
establishing the source of your joint authority.

The phenomenon of argumentum ad pares warrants further elaboration because it is both

common and especially pernicious. It may be regarded as a form of collective petitio
principii: “Our preferences ought to prevail because we have discussed this matter
thoroughly amongst ourselves and reached the unanimous conclusion that out preferences
ought to prevail.”

It is pernicious because those who succumb to it are having their illogical belief continually
reinforced by those closest to them: those whose opinions they most respect and whose good
opinion they most crave. We know from the study of cognitive dissonance that such social
support helps to maintain beliefs in the face of considerable disconfirmatory information
(such as the illogicality of the proposition). This is especially so for those who live their lives
within an “echo chamber” of like-minded people. Either they are unaware of those outside
their bubble and the contrary views they might hold, or they convince themselves that those
outside their bubble are self-evidently inferior to themselves and may therefore be dismissed
out of hand.

If we conscientiously refuse to succumb to logical fallacies, set aside our own preferences,
and transcend our solipsistic view of the world, we may find that there are simply no shared
values which allow the correct device to be demonstrated by argumentation. If a decision is
to be made then it will need to be made by aggregating the irreconcilable preferences of the
interested parties. We need to aggregate preferences concerning the means by which we are
to aggregate preferences.

But now we have a double problem. Not only are there no shared values by which to arrive
at the result through argumentation but there is also no device with which to make the
decision through the aggregation of preferences – for the choice of device is the matter at
issue.

How are we to aggregate preferences concerning the method of aggregating preferences?

Unlike other debates and decisions which occur within the context of an assumed device, this
debate may make no such assumption. To do so would be a form of petitio principii:
assuming the answer to the very matter which is in dispute.

3
The result is that debates concerning the method of aggregating preferences are categorically
different from all other debates. And it is the failure to recognise this categorical difference
which leads to the endless futile arguments concerning the Problem of Government.

We might express this symbolically as follows:

P = D( {pi} )

where:

p is a vector representing an individual’s preferences for options under consideration

ranked in order of preference;

{pi}represents the set of vectors of rank-order preferences for each individual “i”;

P represents the vector of aggregated rank-order preference; and

D represents the aggregation device, a functional relationship which associates each

{pi} with a P.

Significantly, P depends not only on {pi} but also on the choice of D. For example, in a pure
autocracy in which individual “1” is the autocrat P = p1 and all other preferences are ignored.
In general, D will be a complex function relating P to {pi}.

The universal error made in discussing the Problem of Government arises from applying such
rhetorical or persuasive argument to the choice of the aggregation device itself.

P (D) = D( { p(D)i} )

where:

D represents the options for choice of D

p(D)i represents the preferences of each individual concerning the choice of D.

P (D) represents the aggregate preference concerning the choice of D.

It may be seen that the aggregate preference for D depends in part on the D used to aggregate
the preferences concerning the choice of D. and there lies the problem: unless D has been
externally determined – set out in some “Charter from Heaven” – then it must be some
aggregation of preferences concerning itself. Thus:

Pk (D) = D( { p(D)i } )

= Pk-1 (D) ( {p(D)i} ),

where k = 0, -1, -2 . . . -∞ represents the iteration number of

successive aggregations.

4
If P0 is our final desired solution, its determination depends upon P-1 which depends on P-2,
and so on back to P-∞.

This is not a problem that has gone unrecognised. James Buchanan – in the introduction to
Calculus of Consent – declares it to be “a problem of infinite regression” . . . . and then
proceeds to present his own preferences on how to aggregate preferences.

But can we do more than simply identify the problem, declare it to be insoluble, and then go
on to argue that everyone ought to do what we prefer?

Below I argue that there are certain things we can say positively about the aggregation of
preferences concerning the aggregation of preferences. Those familiar with the mathematics
of recursion relationships might imagine the possibility of an “eigensolution” to this problem.
This involves going as far as we can in stripping the problem of a priori preferences, and
seeing what solutions are left over when we do that.

There are many problems in mathematics which give rise to infinite recursion relations. For
example, if one tries to solve Schrodinger’s equation in quantum mechanics, the solution
often comes in the form of an infinite power series (Legendre series for spherically
symmetrical systems, Hermite series for simple harmonic systems) in which each term is a
multiple of the preceding term according to a recursion relation. And if that recursion is
allowed to go on to infinity it leads to a logical catastrophe: all the solutions diverge to
infinite values.

For example, the solution for spherically symmetrical systems takes the form:

y = a0 + a2x2 + a4x4 + a6x6 + . . . + anxn + . . .

where “y” is calculated by feeding a value into the variable “x”, raising it to various powers
(2, 4, 6, . . . n . . . ), multiplying each result by the correspond “an”, and adding up the whole
lot to give the answer.

What makes this series especially interesting is that each an+2 is related to its predecessor an by
a recursion relationship:

an+2 = -[(l-n) (l+n+1)] / [(n+2)(n+1)] an

where l is a parameter related to the energy of the system.

As it stands, this series would go on to infinity and it can be shown that for some values of x
it would diverge to an infinite sum: logical catastrophe.

But what if l has as value of, say, 2? Then:

a4 = -[(2-2) (2+2+1)] / [(2+2)(2+1)] a2

The term “2 – 2” is of course zero. And so a4 is zero. And therefore a6 is zero. And so on
and on for the infinity of terms which follow. They’re all multiplied by zero and therefore
disappear. The recursion relationship has been broken. The series no longer goes to infinity.
The logical catastrophe is avoided.

5
The result is a Legendre polynomial. For l = 2 it has the form:

y = a0 + a2x2 (which evaluates to a0 – 3a0x2)

Because the integral values of l are related to the energy of the system, this is mathematically
what puts the “quantum” into quantum mechanics.

Can we do something similar to force Buchanan’s “problem of infinite regression” into a

solution of finite form.

To do so we first needed to re-formulate the problem by introducing the concept of

“privileging” and invariance in aggregation devices.

We considered previously how an aggregate rank order preference depends not only on the
rank order preferences of the individuals in the set, but also on the device used for
aggregation. Different devices lead to different results.

Significantly, a device may “privilege” the preferences of one or more individuals. Very
roughly, that means that some individuals’ preferences may be given “greater weight” than
those of others.

Slightly more precisely, we may define an aggregation device as a “privileging device” if:

• for any sets of preferences of individuals, the output is not invariant to an arbitrary re-
mapping of “identities” onto individuals; and

• there exists at least one individual who – for the purpose of aggregation – prefers the
identity of another individual.

An even more precise definition needs to consider the concept of “identity”. More precisely,
privileging relates to state-like entities: those which have the de facto power to enforce the
preferences of some individuals against others. As discussed in the preceding section, such
enforceable preferences are often called “rights”.

Enforceable preferences are enforced by identity, not by the set of preferences associated
with the identity. Thus, if an individual is identified as the owner of certain real property they
may enforce their preference to refuse entry to other individuals. If an individual is identified
as being an elected member of a legislature their preferences (whatever those preferences
might be) will be included in any vote of the legislature, but the preferences of other
individuals will not. If an individual is identified as a judge of the most superior court their
preferences on any matter (whatever those preferences might be) will prevail whilst those of
other individuals will not3.

Thus we might imagine a process of “brain transplants” amongst the individuals constituting
the set. For example, my brain (with all its embodied preferences) might be swapped with

3
This describes a system in which it is impossible in practice to overturn a judicial decision. Forms of
government with constitutionally entrenched bills of rights come close to this. In elective systems, the
legislature may enact new legislation to override a judicial decision. In a Democracy, individual citizens may
have the right to deploy other mechanisms for vetoing the legislature or for introducing their own legislation.

6
that of the Prime Minister. Your brain (with all its preferences) might be swapped with that
of the Chief Justice. Chris’s brain (with all its preferences) might be swapped with that of
some influential billionaire who has a few politicians in his pocket.

If the aggregation device does not give the same result following an arbitrary brain swap,
then it is not invariant with respect to identity. If there is at least one individual who would
prefer the identity of another, then the device is privileging.

We have now transformed the infinite recursion problem from one involving aggregation
devices themselves to one involving the identification of “privileged individuals”.

For the purpose of deciding an aggregation device, which individuals should have their
preferences privileged? Any answer to that question will necessarily involve a statement of
preference, and those preferences must be aggregated using an aggregation device. For the
purpose of deciding that aggregation device, which individuals should have their preferences
privileged? And so on ad infinitum.

Symbolically, D({π}) is a function of the set – {π} – of privileged individuals.

P (D) = D({π}) ({p(D)i}),

We can see that the second term on the right hand side {p(D)i} – the set of all individual
preferences concerning D – is a constant.

But the result of aggregation depends on D({π}) applied to this constant set, and as {π} is
itself a matter of preference D({π}) therefore depends upon the choice of that privileged set,
P({π}. This is subject to its own recursion relation:

Pk ({π}) = F( Pk-1 ({π}) )

In summary, Pk(D) depends on the set P({π}) and Pk ({π}) is some function of ( Pk-1 ({π}) ).4

At each iteration the result depends upon which individuals are included in the set {π}. And
because there is no way of identifying which individuals are to be included in the set {π} –
other than by another aggregation of preferences concerning which individuals are to be
included in the set {π} – the recursion goes on ad infinitum.

Some – like Buchanan – jump to the conclusion that this is an impossible problem of “infinite
regression”. But having come this far, we now know that there might be an eigensolution.

If at some point in the infinite series of recursions, we introduce a device which privileges no
individuals, then the problem of identifying privileged individuals falls away. If the device is
invariant to an arbitrary re-mapping of identities onto preferences there are no privileged
individuals.

If at some point the set {π}is the Null set, there is no requirement to identify which
individuals are to be included in it. Because there are none! There is no requirement for the
following term in the series of aggregations. And consequently there is no requirement for
the term following that, and so on.
4
“F()” is D(Pk-1 ({π})) applied to ( Pk-1 ({π})

7
This is analogous to finding a parameter which sets one of the Legendre series terms to zero.
Our infinite recursion becomes finite recursion. We have no need to employ another iteration
of aggregation to determine the privileged individuals because the result will be invariant to
any re-mapping of identities anyway.5

Thus a non-privileging device is the eigensolution to the problem of preference aggregation

in the absence of a priori privileging. It is the only solution which does not unnecessarily6
require the doing of something that is logically impossible to do (i.e. identifying a priori
privileged individuals).

So, what are the characteristics of such a device?7

In order for the output to be invariant, they must include the following:

• in any binary expression of preference – for or against any option – the preferences of
each voter for or against must be weighted equally, with approval determined by an
excess of support over rejection (otherwise the result would not be invariant to an
arbitrary exchange of identities amongst the voters);

• any option which could conceivably be supported must be able to be put to such a
vote (to avoid privileging those who select which options may be voted upon);

• in the first instance the system must not be a lottery or de facto lottery, as this would
privilege a priori those who prefer lotteries over those who prefer transparently
deterministic systems. However, this does not preclude a non-privileging device from
choosing some form of lottery as the device to be used thereafter;

• the order in which options are eliminated must not be determinable by a privileged
subset of individuals. This in turn requires an indefinite pass system8: at the end of
each pass of initiation and voting it must be possible to have another round of
initiation and voting, possibly with different options. Otherwise either

i) it would be a de facto lottery; or

ii) a privileged subset could determine outcomes by choosing the order in which
options were to be compared and eliminated, or by introducing irrelevant
alternatives at a critical stage; and

5
Alert readers might have noticed that there is another possible solution. Given the definition of “privileging”,
it is possible that a device is not invariant to an arbitrary re-mapping of identities onto individuals but there
exists no individual who would prefer the identity of another for the purpose of aggregation. Each individual
may be content with the way the system is decided. This might be considered unlikely almost to the point of
impossibility in conventional states, but it might occur in nano-states which arise under a fine grained Coasian
Polity Market. In such a universe, dissatisfied individuals would be able to form their own states and in the
knowledge of that threat otherwise privileged individuals would apply their power so judiciously that others
might be content to accept their lack of privilege.
6
The significance of the word “unnecessarily” is discussed in the next part.
7
If one exists. See Appendix I for a discussion of Arrow’s Theorem.
8
See Appendix I for further discussion of indefinite-pass systems.

8
• initially there must be sufficient compulsion to prevent a voting Prisoners’ Dilemma
which would privilege groups of well-organised individuals over others.

We’ll come to the issue of voting Prisoners’ Dilemmas and compulsion below. But for now
it may be observed that such conditions describe an indefinite-pass initiative-and-referendum
system, initially with sufficient voting compulsion to prevent a voting Prisoners’ Dilemma.

This principle is embodied in Article 51 of the Swiss Federal Constitution which defines how
the cantonal constitutions must be determined9. It states:

The cantonal constitution must be approved by the people, and must be subject to
revision if a majority of the people so requires.

What form of government might such a system choose?

That’s not for me to say. I don’t have a Monopoly on Wisdom in this matter and as far as I’m
aware I haven’t been granted a Charter from Heaven to decide such matters on behalf of other
people. The output would depend on the preferences of the individuals concerned. As those
individuals change over the time (perhaps due to the death of some and the birth of others) ,
or as the preferences of existing individuals change, the chosen form of government might
change also.

This is where the Democratic Eigensolution differs from most other proposed solutions for
the Problem of Government. It recognises that no positive solution exists. It doesn’t seek to
specify the system of government. It does not seek even to specify how the system of
government must ultimately be chosen. It seeks merely to specify how the process of
choosing the process of choosing the process of choosing (to an indefinite number of
iterations) must be started10 if it is to avoid an illogicality.

We might mention parenthetically that the historical record suggests a strong preference for
Democracy as the system of government itself, not just as a means of choosing the system of
government. People who have been given a free choice in their system of government almost
invariably choose some form of “directly” democratic government. Tellingly, those who
enjoy such direct democracy never vote to abolish it – and almost never vote to limit it – even
though it is a straightforward matter to call a referendum for that purpose.

That need not be the case. In principle, people could vote for purely elective government. It
just so happens that we never observe them doing so. It is perhaps for this reason that
otherwise rational people start saying irrational things when confronted with the democratic
eigensolution.

9
Article 51 is an example of a “meta-constitution”, a kernel of rules which determines how the larger set of
rules is to be determined. Most constitutions have a meta-constitution embedded within them. External meta-
constitutions tend to arise in federal or colonial systems. Section 6 of the Australia Act, 1986 and its
predecessor Section 5 of the Colonial Laws Validity Act, 1865 are examples of process-oriented meta-
constitutions. The Guarantee Clause of Article IV of the US Constitution is an outcomes-oriented meta-
constitution.
10
Bizarrely, some people have described this approach as Rawlsian. But there could be nothing less Rawlsian.
Rawlsian approaches involve the patrician philosopher sitting in his study imagining the form of government (he
believes) people would want if they did not know what their position in society would be. His preference is
then proposed as the solution. It is no better than Buchanan. The Democratic Eigensolution involves no
patrician philosophers privileging their own preferences concerning the form of government.

9
To begin with, there may be some who argue that all of this argumentation is itself a
statement of preference: a preference for aggregation devices to be chosen in a way that does
not require the doing of things that are logically impossible to do.

There may be those who reject the notion of choosing logically. There may be those who –
channelling Hermann Göring – declare, “Every time I hear the word ‘logic’ I reach for my
revolver.”

Thus, this process of ratiocination does not actually tell us how a system of government ought
to be chosen. That would be as is-ought fallacy (“This is logical. Therefore it ought to be the
method used.”)

But we can reach some positive conclusions.

First we may conclude that:

i) IF in any debate concerning “the method which ought to be used to choose the
method which ought to be used to aggregate preferences”, the discussants agree to
refrain from proposing solutions which unnecessarily require the doing of things that
are logically impossible to do (i.e. identifying a priori privileged individuals),

ii) THEN the only solutions remaining are those which involve the aggregation of
preferences using a non-privileging device.

On the other hand, if premise (i) above is rejected, then it is hard to see how any further
reasoned debate on the subject is possible. Any such debate would necessarily be a slanging
match in which the opponents of conclusion (ii) simply went on insisting that their
preferences ought to be privileged a priori even though there was no logical means by which
they could establish why that ought to be.

By analogy, it would be like a convocation of mathematicians discussing theorems, but with

one of them insisting that pi “ought” to be equal to exactly 3.00.11 The dogmatic
mathematician might even bring along his revolver and start shooting anyone who disagreed.
The other mathematicians might eventually “agree” that the value of pi was 3.0 but this
would only come at the expense of re-defining the concept of mathematical “agreement”.

If our dogmatic mathematician did nothing more than simply terrify his fellows into
submission then we might accept that this was an event which lies outside the domain of
reasoned discourse – just as we accept that psychopaths murder their victims without
expecting a reasoned explanation justifying their actions.

But if he then tried to prove his conclusion with a train of argument that his colleagues could
clearly see was illogical, we might ask: “Why? What is this chap trying to achieve?”

If the ultimate justification for rejecting a logical solution to a problem is an appeal to force,
then why add insult to injury by trying to justify that course of action with a train of pseudo-
logical argument? If opponents of logical determination try to justify their rejection of
11
Clearly pi ought to be equal to 3.00 because it is the case that such a value would make all calculations of area
and perimeter so much easier than the current value(!)

10
logical determination by a faulty appeal to logic then they take us into a realm of absurdity
which defies any further analysis.

Moving on, there might be those who are worried by the definition of privileging device and
the qualification: “if for any sets of preferences of individuals . . .” This assumes without
further question that the preferences of the individuals are given. It does not ask how those
preferences came to be. But might it not be the case that some individuals are “privileged” in
another way? They may have access to the machinery of publicity or indoctrination which
allows them to influence people more effectively than others.

This is often raised in arguments against Democracy: that the “ignorant masses” are too
easily manipulated and must therefore be denied any opportunity to give effect to their
“defective” preferences.

One of the more terrifying aspects of the Brexit plebiscite was the knee-jerk response from
some Remainers that those who had voted the “wrong way” were lacking education and
ought not to be permitted to have a say (or at least any effective say) in matters of such high
policy. But who decides which education is relevant? Is the voting franchise to be limited to
university graduates, or perhaps just Nobel Prize winners! Or should it be restricted to street-
wise graduates from the University of Hard Knocks who have first-hand knowledge of
unemployment, poverty and violence? Is the relevant knowledge and wisdom the sort of
knowledge and wisdom that “highly educated” people (in the conventional sense) have? Or
are the truly wise those who have an innate feeling for tactics and negotiation?

It is amusing – as well as frightening – to observe people with high levels of narrow technical
education who are so lacking in critical thinking skills that they have come to imagine
themselves possessing a Monopoly on Wisdom in all matters. For example, reading the
media coverage of negotiations in 2018, what was remarkable was the breathtaking naivety of
those supposedly educated journalists who really seemed to believe that a “deal” would be
agreed months in advance of the deadline. No-one from the University of Hard Knocks
would ever have been so ignorant.

We can therefore see that any attempt to separate out “valid” preferences from “invalid”
preferences will lead us into another infinite regression: how are we to determine which
preferences are valid and which are not? How are we to determine which individuals are so
inferior as to have their preferences rejected? How are we to decide which types of education
or worldly experience qualify individuals to have a say in the esoteric matter of how
preferences are to be aggregated? How are we to determine which publicity or indoctrination
is acceptable and which is not?

No doubt some people will have very strong views on these matters, and they may even try to
justify them with argumentation. But any such argumentation will ultimately reduce to an
expression of preference (probably veiled in layers of logical fallacy) and so the problem
arises: how do we aggregate preferences concerning the identification of individuals who are
to be disenfranchised in the aggregation of preferences concerning which individuals are to
be disenfranchised?

11
Again the eigensolution is to disenfranchise none. If we accept all preferences as given we
may ascertain those preferences directly, either through a series of binary choices or through
ranking12.

This brings us to the issue of compulsion and Prisoners’ Dilemma touched upon earlier. The
basic problem of the voting Prisoners’ Dilemma is well-known. In a large election, each
voter may be expected to reason:

(i) for my vote to change the outcome, a majority of voters will need to turn out and vote
the same way;

(ii) if I vote a certain way and if a large number of other people do not turn out to vote the
same way then my vote will be wasted, so my optimal strategy is not to waste my
time and effort voting;

(iii) if a large number of other people do turn out to vote the same way then my vote will
be insignificant and irrelevant except in the vanishingly improbable case of a tied
vote, so my optimal strategy is still to do nothing; and

(iv) other people who might have voted my way will have rationally reached the same
conclusions (i) to (iii) and not turned out, therefore my rational strategy is to do the
same.

This reasoning has certain obvious problems, most notably that jurisdictions with no
compulsion do not see turnout falling to zero. For some groups – such as political parties –
the Prisoners Dilemma may be minimised through the credible promise of future reward
(social approbation from other members, for example) for those who actively participate in
the process, and the credible threat of future punishment (expulsion perhaps) for those who
do not.

But even outside political parties there is widespread engagement13. This opens the way to
the argument that “lazy” people shouldn’t be forced to vote if they don’t want to. If they
don’t have the sense of civic responsibility to get out and vote, then that’s their problem.

Where this line of argument collapses is that it’s not necessarily “lazy” people who refrain
from voting. Once the way is left open for people not to vote, the way is also left open to
actively discourage people from voting: strategic disenfranchisement.

Historically, strategic disenfranchisement was employed in the United States to prevent

certain races from voting and there are accusations that it is being reinstated under the guise
of preventing voter fraud. And the United States cases were trivial compared with late

12
In Part 3, dealing with the definition of “individual” we discuss the issue of the “fully-ignorant” voter – the
voter (perhaps a dog or a computer) who has literally no idea what is going on – and the need to remove
possible biases in the mechanical process recording preferences. In summary, in the absence of mechanical
biases in the recording of preferences, the “preferences” expressed by fully-ignorant voters may be expected to
cancel statistically. In an indefinite-pass system, a result which is suspected of having been achieved through
mechanical bias might always be further modified by another round of initiation and voting.
13
Although there are signs that this might be falling as people wake up to the fact that their vote doesn’t really
count.

12
Weimar Germany in which entire parties were disenfranchised – and their supporters
imprisoned – in order to eliminate their “inferior” votes14.

Active disenfranchisement clearly has the potential to create a Prisoners’ Dilemma problem
for target groups: each individual has no incentive to incur the high costs of proving his or
her identity to the satisfaction of those administering the voting. The result of preference
aggregation is therefore not invariant to an arbitrary re-mapping of identities and the device is
privileging.

A positive and overriding obligation to vote (i.e. compulsion) in the Eigensolution eliminates
the possibility of privileging. That does not rule out the possibility that the Eigensolution
itself might choose not to apply compulsion in votes that do not relate to the constitution
itself.

Another problem arises.

It might be argued that my refusal to accept the illogical a priori privileging of your
preference is no better than your insistence that I do accept it. In other words, it might be
argued that the logical and illogical stances are symmetrical with nothing to favour one over
the other. Although I know that I do not have a Charter from Heaven granting me a
Monopoly on Wisdom, I cannot logically exclude the possibility that you are in possession of
such a Charter which – for reasons you cannot disclose – you are not permitted to reveal to
me so that I might examine it.

There is no way I can prove that my rejection of your Charter is better than your insistence
that you possess it, and that your rejection of premise (i) above is not entirely justified (albeit
by a reason which you are unable disclose).

However, this symmetry breaks down as soon as we move from a 2-person universe to a
universe of more than 2 people.

If in a larger universe:

• I encounter more than one person who insists that I accept the a priori privileging of
their preference; and

• if the preferences of different claimants differ (and experience shows they do differ in
the world we inhabit),

then how can I possibly tell which claimant is the “real” holder of the Charter?

Any attempt to choose between two different claimants would necessarily require an exercise
of preference on my part. And as I am quite certain that I have no Charter from Heaven
privileging me to choose between different claimants, there is no logical way I can do this.

Even if I wanted to accept that you were a holder of the Charter, your failure to
incontrovertibly demonstrate it to me forces me into a position where I cannot recognise you
14
For example, the Reichstag Fire Decree of 28 February 1933 waived habeas corpus and provided for the
imprisonment of opponents of the fledgling Nazi regime days before the election of 5 March, thereby paving the
way for the Enabling Act to be passed by the Reichstag. Subsequent legislation outlawed opposition parties.

13
as such without arbitrarily refusing to recognise other similar claimants. Even if you
succeeded in persuading me that you – and you alone – were holder of the Charter it would
still be no more than argumentum ad pares. If I am to avoid drowning in the swamp of
illogicality I am obliged to reject you.

Moreover:

• if you choose to withhold from me the incontrovertible demonstration that you are the
holder of the Charter; or

• if you are not able to provide me with the incontrovertible demonstration and you
choose to withhold from me any explanation of why you are not able,

then I can only conclude that it is your own preference for me to proceed on the assumption
that you are not incontrovertibly in possession. For you must realise the invidious position
you have put me in (as discussed above).

And so we reach the position :

• any individual who does have a Charter from Heaven but does not disclose it must
understand that others cannot avoid proceeding on the basis that that individual does
not have such a Charter;

• for any individual who does not have a Charter from Heaven and accepts the logical
consequences of that state, the only method of choosing is one which does not require
the identification of a priori privileged individuals; and

• an individual engaged in a discussion of the choice of aggregation device who

encounters a discussant who:

i) does not disclose a Charter from Heaven; but

ii) purports to present a reasoned case for a different solution,

must conclude that that discussant either:

iii) is too unintelligent to understand the illogicality of their position; or

iv) understands the illogicality but chooses to insult the intelligence of their
audience by presenting arguments which are irrelevant, circular, is-ought
fallacies, argumentum ad verecundiam, or any of the other logical fallacies; or

v) is in possession of a Charter which would render their argument logical but

(for reasons not disclosed) prefers their audience to reach conclusions (iii) or
(iv).

14
 APPENDIX I

ON ARROW’S THEOREM AND GÖDEL’S THEOREM

Anyone familiar with the problem of voting will no doubt have heard of Arrow’s Theorem,
perhaps the most abused and misrepresented theorem in all of mathematics. It is often
invoked by those who want their own preferences to prevail. They claim, “Arrow’s Theorem
says there is no perfect voting system . . . therefore let’s all do what I say.”

We can illustrate the sort of problem which might arise in voting with a simple example.
Imagine three brothers – Albert, Benedict and Charles – who are at the market trying to
choose which box of fruit they wish to buy. The options are Apples, Bananas and Cherries
and the preferences are as follows:

Albert Benedict Charles

Favourite fruit Apples Bananas Cherries
Next favourite fruit Bananas Cherries Apples
Least favourite fruit Cherries Apples Bananas

If a case of apples is bought then both Benedict and Charles would have preferred something
different. If a case of bananas is bought then both Charles and Albert would have preferred
something different. If a case of cherries is bought then both Albert and Benedict would have
preferred something different. No matter how the three individuals go about deciding which
case to buy - whether by voting or by fighting or by drawing lots - a majority will prefer a
different outcome.

Arrow’s Theorem goes a little further. Specifically, it proves that if

i) there are three of more voters and three or more preferences;

ii) the system if non-dictatorial (i.e. no one voter has the “casting vote”);

iii) the system can handle any number of preference options (otherwise who would be
empowered to pre-cull the preferences); and

iv) the system is not susceptible to the introduction of irrelevant alternatives (e.g. the
introduction of a new option that no-one wants changes the winner),

then it is logically possible to identify a set of individual preferences which would breach the
pareto criterion: everyone prefers A to B but the system returns B over A.

However, Arrow’s Theorem does not say that this will actually happen in any situation. It
does not even say that it is likely to happen in any situation. It is simply a logical possibility
that cannot be ruled out.

And Arrow’s Theorem does not address what might happen if such an outcome did arise in
practice.

It may be seen that Arrow’s Theorem in this regard is not unlike another impossibility
theorem: Gödel’s Theorem. Gödel’s Theorem tells us that if we take the axioms of arithmetic,

1
then it is possible to formulate a valid statement (Gödel’s self-referential statement) which
evaluates neither to TRUE nor to FALSE. Consequently it is impossible to demonstrate the
completeness of the axioms of arithmetic: some valid statements will evaluate neither to
TRUE nor to FALSE.

Like Arrow’s Theorem, Gödel’s Theorem does not say that all arithmetic statements evaluate
neither to TRUE nor to FALSE, nor that any statement taken at random is likely to evaluate
neither to TRUE nor to FALSE.

And Gödel’s Theorem does not address what might happen if such an outcome did arise in
practice.

Imagine for a moment that there did arise a statement which evaluate neither to TRUE nor to
FALSE, and that statement was of some practical importance. For example, it might
determine whether or not a bridge stayed up or fell down. What would happen?

We may assume that the actual outcome would be examined and a new axiom added to
ensure that arithmetic came up with the “correct” answer in future. The new axiom would be
devised to ensure that bridges stayed up and did not fall down.

Now, this would not eliminate Gödel’s Theorem, because it would then be possible to devise
another statement which evaluated neither to TRUE nor to FALSE. But the new statement
would not be one which determined whether bridges stayed up or fell down.

Indeed, we do not know whether – in the pre-history of arithmetic – the axiom set was
implicitly adjusted several times before coming up with the “correct” axioms that we use
today. We might imagine the disasters of pre-historic engineers or accountants who hadn’t
got it quite right and were standing around scratching their heads wondering why they didn’t
have enough stones to complete their henge or pyramid.

Even in recorded history, we have seen how the axioms of basic arithmetic have been
supplemented and extended to deal with new problems in mathematics. The most famous
example is perhaps the introduction of “imaginary” numbers which have found all kinds of
uses. For example, by considering both real and imaginary solutions to the wave equation,
Paul Dirac was able to conceive of entirely new forms of matter.

We live in a world of dreadful logical possibilities. But that doesn’t mean those possibilities
will become actualities. And if they do become actualities, we can find ways to address
them.

In our simple example above the brothers might come to some arrangement whereby they
agreed to buy apples on condition that Benedict and Charles would get more than a one-third
share. In other words they might trade quantity against quality.

More generally, if a voting system satisfying the first three Arrow criteria were to produce an
outcome breaching the pareto criterion then we might readily imagine that one of two things
would occur:

i) (most likely) though a process of negotiation – i.e. “horse-trading” – a new option

would be devised which could be selected by the voting system without breaching the

2
 pareto criterion. Such horse trading is the stuff of government and options that are
universally disliked are rarely put to a vote in the first place; or

ii) (less likely) subsets of the set of individuals would separate – secede from one another
– and make their own separate decisions which satisfied all the criteria. This is the
mechanism employed occasionally through the “oppression” provisions of
corporations law, but generally is not available in sovereign constitutional systems.

The former possibility leads to the concept of “indefinite pass” aggregation devices. Arrow’s
Theorem is concerned with devices which terminate within a determinate number of steps.
Indefinite pass devices can continue indefinitely until they arrive at an output from which no
change will be chosen according to the rules of the device. There remains a logical
possibility that they could run forever. But logical possibilities are not actualities.

The latter possibility is examined more fully in the discussion of Coasian Polity Markets.