Image via Architect of the Capitol, Signing of the Constitution by Howard Chandler Christy (1940)
***
“In a democracy, the people get the government they deserve.” — Alexis de Tocqueville. Tocqueville’s assertion rests on a crucial assumption: that the democracy in question is functioning, fair, and legitimate. Yet before asking whether his observation holds true in our contemporary political climate, a more fundamental question must be addressed: What does democracy require in order to deserve its name, and how do American politics situate themselves within that framework? We have all heard the word; it is repeated in classrooms, headlines, political speeches, and by older gentlemen in supermarket checkout lines, but this familiarity and repetition does not guarantee clarity. In an era defined by contested disclosures, institutional distrust, and public debate over transparency, it is worth revisiting not only what democracy is supposed to be, but whether its performance aligns with its reputation. Although the United States is globally regarded as a model of democratic governance, the normalization of selective disclosure, structural distortions such as lobbying and gerrymandering, and political hostility toward the press reveal a widening gap between democratic reputation and practice, one that ultimately weakens public trust and institutional legitimacy.
Before turning to the more contested aspects of this debate, it is important to establish some conceptual clarity: what do I mean by democracy? Although some scholars disagree on how far the concept should extend, there is broad recognition that democracy cannot be reduced to elections alone. As Professor Gerardo L. Munck, a scholar of democratic theory and measurement, argues in his paper What Is Democracy? A Reconceptualization of the Quality of Democracy, the central disagreement concerns how democratic quality should be evaluated, specifically whether it should be confined to electoral procedures or extended to government decision-making and the broader political environment. At its core, democracy rests on political freedom and equality, understood as freedom from domination and equal weight in collective decision-making. In this sense, democracy is not merely a procedural mechanism but a relationship between government and the governed in which power does not override the people it represents. It is this broader understanding that has helped position the United States as a leading liberal democracy in global political discourse. Through its constitutional framework, institutional continuity, and rhetoric of popular sovereignty, it has come to represent a democratic ideal. Yet, a long history of being praised as a great democracy does not automatically guarantee that democratic performance matches democratic rhetoric.
If democracy is understood as a system grounded in political freedom, equality, and non-domination, then the United States has long occupied a symbolic position as a global reference point for its realization. Through its historical role in promoting liberal governance abroad, it has come to represent more than a political system; it represents an ideal. Yet democratic legitimacy does not rest on symbolism. It rests on practice, a distinction made by recent comparative assessments. The 2026 Democracy Index places the United States below the world’s highest-performing democracies, challenging narratives of democratic exceptionalism while still distinguishing it from authoritarian regimes. A country may inherit the language of freedom, invoke its founding principles, and compare itself favorably to authoritarian regimes, however, none of this guarantees that its institutions are functioning in a manner consistent with lofty democratic values. Democratic exceptionalism, while rhetorically powerful, cannot substitute for sustained transparency and accountability from the government. If democratic legitimacy depends on performance rather than reputation, then transparency becomes one of its most revealing tests.
Following this discussion on transparency, it becomes clear that simply releasing information is not enough. If people cannot realistically access or understand what is being disclosed, the act of release loses much of its democratic value. The controversy surrounding the release of the Epstein files reflects this tension, as the handling of the disclosure raised questions about whether transparency here was meaningful or merely procedural. Although millions of documents were released, lawmakers from both parties complained that meaningful review was constrained by limited access and inconsistent redactions. Victims’ names and sensitive materials reportedly surfaced in certain releases, while references to powerful associates remained heavily obscured, raising questions about proportionality and procedural intentions. At the same time, some members of Congress acknowledged that earlier iterations of these files had been mishandled within federal agencies, further complicating whether this could genuinely be described as transparency. To be clear, unrestricted disclosure can threaten due process and ongoing investigations. Yet when disclosure becomes so voluminous or selectively redacted that the public cannot reasonably assess its substance, transparency risks becoming performative rather than authentic. I do not question democratic legitimacy because of a single scandal, but this example, along with the president’s repeated public insistence that Americans should “let it go,” is part of a bigger picture. This picture raises questions about where we currently stand, not only within the Democracy Index, but also in the socially-felt reality of democracy.
Transparency is not merely the release of information, but the condition that enables citizens to evaluate their government. As political scientist David Stasavage argues, transparency reduces the informational asymmetries between governments and citizens that otherwise weaken democratic accountability. In liberal democracies, the press functions as one of the primary mechanisms through which that asymmetry is corrected. Journalists investigate, question, and translate complex dilemmas into accessible public knowledge. When that mechanism is obstructed or publicly undermined, trust in the transparency process weakens. Recent events are a testament to this dilemma. Four Associated Press reporters were beaten and detained in Cameroon while investigating a secretive deportation program involving U.S. authorities. In Washington, President Trump responded to a journalist’s question about the Epstein files by telling her, “Quiet. Quiet, piggy,” and later scolded a CNN reporter who was seeking clarification of dishonesty, even attacking her physical appearance. Such rhetoric may not formally censor the press, but it signals hostility toward scrutiny itself. If transparency becomes selective or politically filtered, democratic legitimacy is not abolished, but it is strained. That strain becomes even more visible in other ways where influence and information are unevenly distributed, including lobbying practices and high-profile document releases that shape public trust.
Beyond high-profile document controversies, structural incentives embedded within the political system further complicate the relationship between transparency and representation. Lobbying, while legal, institutionalizes unequal access to lawmakers, enabling those with concentrated resources to shape policy conversations before the broader public can engage with them. Campaign finance dependence and safe districts created through partisan gerrymandering can insulate incumbents from meaningful electoral accountability, reducing the pressure to respond to broader public concerns. Even recent insider trading reforms governing members of Congress lead me to question whether legislators are positioned to regulate themselves effectively. These mechanisms do not necessarily violate democratic procedure, but they do strain the principle of equal political influence that democracy promises.
To be clear, I am not denying that the United States is a democracy in its full extent. It is, and it has long been established as such. Rather, this is an assessment of whether it continues to meet its own stated standards. It is a reminder that we must evaluate whether our institutions reflect our democratic ideals. When sensitive information is mishandled or unclear and when legitimate scrutiny is dismissed, institutions grow more distant from the public, and distrust builds. Over time, that distrust risks hardening into resignation or willful ignorance, weakening the civic engagement on which democracy depends. A functioning democracy should allow citizens to live with confidence that governance is fair and that public information is accurate and complete. If that confidence weakens, we risk becoming a society defined by a lack of hope and trust in government, focused more on survival than on the ability to personally thrive. For future generations, remaining informed and holding institutions accountable is a civic responsibility. Demanding transparency, defending a free press, and insisting that democratic titles reflect democratic performance are not radical acts. Rather, they are the steady work of preserving legitimacy for ourselves, our neighbors, and the children who will inherit these institutions long after today’s political debates have faded.
***
This article was edited by Fatimah Waqas.
Cooper Toland 
Domenick Fedele 
Kaitlyn Horn