David Cameron and Alex Salmond this week agreed a decision of monumental magnitude. Undoubtedly, the “Edinburgh Agreement” – which could ultimately see the dissolution of the Union – has the potential to shape the future of the nation. However, the stakes are far higher than arguments of economy and mineral wealth: with 16- and 17-year-olds to be granted the franchise by the Scottish Parliament, the very design of British democracy could be refashioned.
The case is often made that, at age 16, one can fight for Queen and country, running the risk of paying the ultimate sacrifice in the line of patriotic duty. Similarly, in certain parts of the UK at least, 16-year-olds can marry and have children. Logically, so such reasoning runs, the minimum voting age should thus be lowered to 16.
As persuasive as these arguments are, however, they do not irrefutably validate the proposition for broadening the franchise. Indeed, such claims need to be variously qualified and treated with a degree of caution: as with marriage in England, 16-year-olds can join the armed forces only with parental consent, and even then are not eligible for frontline combat. With other significant decisions not being taken until the age of 18, such as whether to continue into tertiary education or whether to get a mortgage, a strong defence can be mounted for maintaining current regulations.
Nonetheless, despite such rhetoric, one argument trumps all others. Dating back to the American Revolution and forming a cornerstone of democratic society, the notion that there should be no taxation without representation is difficult, if not impossible, to disregard. At the age of 16, individuals become liable for National Insurance contributions and income tax: to reason against suffrage being extended to the age of 16, therefore, is to devalue the concept of representative democracy and runs against the spirit of the social contract.
To be clear, expanding the franchise to include those aged 16 and 17 is a move that would not only realise this fundamental relationship between taxation and representation, but one that would, if correctly managed, strengthen the democratic fabric by maximising participation in the political process. With this goal in mind, it is important to recognise that 16- and 17-year-olds are increasingly intelligent, informed and opinionated; when coupled with the prospective obligation to contribute to the national tax take, the case for retaining 18 as the minimum age of entitlement appears increasingly untenable.
It is also important to recognise that 16- and 17-year-olds, just like those aged 18 and above, are direct consumers of those public services funded by the state purse. Indeed, in areas such as education, it is under-18s that are the primary consumers of such public services. Similarly, young people are subject to legislation passed by Parliament, as well as Government policies in areas including tuition fees, working regulations, and military engagement.
Nonetheless, young people are currently disengaged from, and many disillusioned with, the political system, not being afforded any meaningful level of input into policies or control over services in terms of design or delivery. Broadening the franchise would represent a significant step towards facilitating a solution to this anomaly, granting young people the opportunity to participate and create a desirable societal milieu while instilling a level of civic responsibility that could begin to address long-term issues surrounding falling turnout and voter apathy.
To be certain, assertions that young people are ill-informed and lack the sophistication and sensibility required to vote responsibly are feasible, if not stereotypical and outdated. Without doubt, there are many young people for whom the world of politics holds no allure. However, universalising such contentions is severely flawed on two counts. First, to assume that an instantaneous moment of maturity is reached on one’s eighteenth birthday is an absurdity; the process of developing political awareness begins at an early age and continues throughout an individual’s lifetime. Second, presenting such problems without proposing solutions is akin to declaring that young people are second-class citizens, worthy of paying taxes but not of determining how such revenue is best spent.
An obvious solution to the dilemma would entail making better use of the time allocated in secondary education timetables to Pastoral/Citizenship/PSHE lessons. These valuable hours could be better utilised to provide lessons in civic responsibilities such as voting, providing an opportunity to promote an understanding of the political systems that shape the world we live in, as well as for debate and discussion on topical issues. By engaging young people and educating in a politically neutral manner, the potential exists for current trends of voter apathy to be overcome and for arguments pertaining the ignorance of the under-18s to be negated.
Importantly, the ability to participate in free elections is a human right, safeguarded by the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and enshrined in the UK’s Human Rights Act. As such, the rationale for denying the franchise to groups of individuals is required to be fair and balanced. Allegations that these criteria are not being met carry increasing weight, with young people ever more focussed on salient issues and ambitious to have their voices heard through various alternative channels to the ballot box.
Undoubtedly, the Section 30 mechanism is not the ideal way to introduce the under-18s to the world of political voting; a renewed debate, both in Westminster and throughout society, on lowering the voting age would clarify the issues and add greater legitimacy. Nonetheless, Scotland’s enfranchising of 16- and 17-year-olds is a democratic step in the right direction. Perhaps Britain could be the next to join the ranks of Austria and Brazil (and Cuba) in recognising the rights of the under-18s.
No comments:
Post a Comment