The democracy sausage and the complex psychology of voting

In 2016, the Australian Word of the Year was ‘democracy sausage’, beating out other contenders such as ‘census fail’ and ‘smashed avo’. 

Defined, with the detachment of lexicographers, a democracy sausage is a ‘barbecued sausage served on a slice of bread, bought at a polling booth sausage sizzle on election day’. 

While accurate, the definition does not touch the experience of the post-voting sausage in bread accompanied by the most important question of election day: ‘With or without onion, mate?’. 

The democracy sausage seems to be a uniquely Australian cultural phenomenon that provides a window into Australian voter psychology. 

The sausage sizzle and accompanying cake stall show that election day is, in part, a community event that raises money for the local school. 

The shared humour of democracy sausage normalises voting and, in some ways, inoculates Australians from the confrontational partisanship we see in the United States—‘Calm down, mate! Get yourself a sausage’. 

It’s a lot of social weight for a sausage in bread.

We vote on a Saturday when we all have better things to do. The allure of a sausage or cake afterwards is tempting, but it likely isn’t the sole motivation for our participation. 

Though voting is mandatory, the relatively small number of informal and donkey votes in Australian elections indicates that we approach voting seriously. 

The question then arises: what do we think about as we stride toward the cardboard compartment, stubby pencil and election paraphernalia in hand, to cast our single vote into the sea of millions of others? 

All politicians and pollsters are trying to answer this question. 

Recently, Peter Dutton and his pollsters were left scratching their heads about the broader community backlash against the Coalition’s ‘work from home policy’, which would have forced public servants back into the office. 

Surely, bashing lazy public servants who spend their days in pyjamas was an election winner! As it turns out, not so much. The backlash was so widespread that Peter Dutton delivered a policy reversal and an apology mid-campaign. 

So, what do we think about when we vote?

The beauty premium

Research shows that physical appearance counts in politics. 

The ‘beauty premium’ has been researched globally with consistent findings. 

In Australia, Andrew Leigh, a current politician and former economist from ANU, co-authored a study examining this phenomenon during the 2004 federal election. Consistent with other findings, the conclusion is that attractiveness gives an advantage. 

Yet, the authors argue it is particularly crucial for challengers rather than incumbents, suggesting that physical appearance holds less weight as we grow accustomed to our politicians. 

This does not explain Donald Trump, whose appearance consistently generates unflattering public discussion. 

The simple explanation is that Trump voters might not be very informed about politics. However, studies suggest that the tendency to support the more physically appealing candidate is generally stronger among people who lack political knowledge. 

It could be that ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder’, or there may be deeper psychological factors at play in the voting psychology of Trump supporters. 

My interest or our interest

When we step up to vote, whose interests should we consider? And, how do we make the trade-off between my interests and the local or national interests? 

Political parties trade on our self-interest. Previously strapped for cash, the government becomes predictably flush in the lead-up to an election, promising investments that benefit the community and tax relief that benefits the individual hip pocket. Equally, the less budget-encumbered opposition promises us benefits for exercising our vote in their direction. 

Is voting so self-interestedly rational? 

How does a voter realistically trade off the personal benefit of an individual tax cut against more money for hospital staff or police? How can we be sure, having resolved this choice, that our vote will deliver that outcome?

The idea that voting is part of a rational calculus where the relative interests, personal and collective, are weighed, tested, and decided upon seems unrealistic for someone whose nose is telling them a sausage awaits. 

Changing the mandate

We may compile various issues into a set of beliefs shaped by our values, voting not for the party or its promises, but for the policy mandate we anticipate the government will pursue on our behalf. 

Governments love to claim the people’s mandate on election night, but do they truly understand the voters’ mandate? It is assumed that the more significant the difference between the party’s vote share, the more robust the mandate. 

Most parties implement their existing policy platforms, assuming that people wouldn’t have voted for them if they disagreed. However, the reality is likely to be more complicated than that. 

Researchers have investigated the existence of electoral mandates and generally suggest that they do not exist. A politician’s ability to implement policy is typically unaffected by the size of his or her winning margin, whether small or large.

The Trump administration believes it has a mandate. Yet, increasing ‘buyer’s remorse’ among Republican voters indicates a disconnect between what voters perceived as a mandate and the administration’s actions. 

The general philosophy is that governments should govern for all, not just those who voted for them. 

Declining trust in government

The rise of independent politicians in Australian politics is likely a direct result of voters losing trust in the major political parties. 

Increasing perceptions of partisanship, infighting, and unfulfilled promises from the two major parties have frustrated voters who feel that ‘politics as usual’ no longer represents their interests. 

The voter’s balance of interests may have shifted toward a local candidate who better reflects personal concerns in both local and national issues. 

Independents may appear more accountable to local voters than those from major parties who promise to adhere to the party line. Successful independents are portrayed as being more ‘central’ in their positions and possibly better reflecting voter interests.

As we approach the booth, voter psychology may focus on who appears more authentic, trustworthy, and representative of our views. 

The fragmentation of Australia’s political landscape suggests that trust in representation is at the forefront of people’s minds. 

It may be that in that unerring and unconscious Australian way, power is rarely given without checks. 

It’s personal

Maybe voting is more about the personal validation of ‘having a say’ or ‘making a difference’. 

Once cast, our single vote is not significant. It is a small contribution to an aggregate decision we cannot control. 

We vote to be part of the future, to fulfil our moral obligation as a part of a democratic society, or to express ourselves. We vote in a way that represents who we are and what we want from the future, and we do it secretly. 

Many Australians avoid discussing their voting preferences with strangers, friends, or family. It remains a private decision. 

Not that long ago, the topic was often deftly sidestepped at BBQs. Today, personal political leanings appear to be more openly expressed on social media. However, as politicians have discovered, surfing the trends of social media sentiments can be treacherous. 

Ultimately, how we vote is a complicated personal decision that expresses something about ourselves, our present needs, and our future desires. 

No calculus or algorithm can predict what voters think, nor how these individual thoughts will combine to form a collective decision. The consistent inaccuracy of political polls in forecasting election results should be sufficient evidence. 

The wisdom of crowds

In democratic elections, we trust the wisdom of the crowds. 

The diversity of the Australian voting population leads us to decide between candidates based on our preferences and interests. Our collective judgement leads to an outcome we each tolerate until the next time we come together to vote. 

Despite the imperfections of democratic elections, the majority’s preferences seem to be reflected. Sometimes, this might look like a mandate. Mostly, the message is that we don’t entirely trust you. 

Democratic elections reflect a complex soup of psychological factors, where different information combines according to each voter’s incomplete understanding. We may not always get our ideal outcome, but we know there will be another opportunity to have our say and a sausage in bread.

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