Complex Systems and the U.S. Election

With the US presidential election mere days away, American citizens first and foremost – but also people in other countries, given what is at stake – need to reflect on the gravitas of the situation. It is no exaggeration to say that the outcome of this election will determine further developments, not only in the US but in the world at large. The choice facing American voters is reminiscent of Robert Frost’s famous poem:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

-The Road Not Taken

What is the upshot of Frost’s poetic reflection on choosing a path between two beckoning to him? That choices are sometimes difficult because one cannot, with certainty, tell where one’s chosen ‘path’ will lead to; not even if indications suggest that one of the options facing one has been decided on more often than the other one. In fact, most people are likely to select the one that more people appear to have chosen than the other. The final stanza of Frost’s poem suggests, however, that having decided on the less popular alternative turned out to have been the better choice; it ‘has made all the difference.’

 Analogous to the poem, it appears that, if the ‘popularity’ of the alternatives facing the American people were to be determined by the sheer media space occupied by memes, discussions, articles, surveys, and reports favouring one candidate over the other, Kamala Harris would be the favoured contender. If media exposure were the deciding factor, and people – like Frost facing the two paths – had to judge which candidate seemed the more popular, Harris would be it.

But, again judged by media popularity, choosing in favour of the ostensibly less attractive (because less conspicuous in the legacy media) candidate may indeed ‘make all the difference’ because, like the path ‘less travelled by,’ this person may have as-yet hidden (or deliberately covered-up) qualities or potential only discoverable if one chooses in his favour.

This is partly the case because, as many people would agree, the prominence enjoyed by Harris in mainstream media space is misleading, to say the least. It does not factor in the comparative prominence of Donald Trump in alternative media, which, although largely invisible to those Americans still dependent on the likes of CNN, Fox, ABC, CBS, and so on, may actually outweigh that of Harris. Like Frost’s path ‘less travelled by,’ Trump may have qualities that belie the signs of its lesser ‘prominence’ in the space of media power (or powerful media). 

Moreover, if the sheer complexity of the situation is taken into account, it would appear that Donald Trump actually has a huge advantage over Kamala Harris. It may well be that he features ‘less prominently’ in mainstream media than Harris as far as the explicit statement of her preferability as future president is concerned, but when prominence is measured in terms of mainstream demonisation of Trump, his mainstream media presence probably exceeds hers. Why is this significant? In a word, because of the complexity involved. 

Consider this: Trump is one man, and on reflection, it would appear highly unlikely that one man could hold the destiny of the world in his hands, as it were, even if there are probably millions of his supporters who would claim just that. The point is that we have not yet learned to ‘cut off the head of the king,’ as Michel Foucault famously argued about power. As he demonstrated in his philosophical history of modes of punishment, Discipline and Punish (Vintage books, 1977), the modern age is characterised by a dispersion of power throughout society, with no centre of power, such as the king. Instead, we witness a network of ‘micro-centres’ of power, which are interconnected in a complex, non-teleological (non-purposive) manner. 

This contrasts with the pre-modern world of centralised hierarchies of power, emanating from the king or queen’s court, and connected with relatively few institutional positions occupied by individuals in service to the royal apex of power, such as the general of the king’s army. Hence, even if one might be tempted to perceive in someone like Donald Trump the equivalent of the pre-modern king, the comparison does not hold, which is easy to demonstrate by focusing on the complex network of constantly changing relations in which Trump (like every other person who wields power today) is inscribed. It is only because of such a person’s position in the network of forces that they can exercise power.

We live as individuals whose lives cannot be isolated from these complexly evolving relationships, and what we are is determined, not by some essential centre of identity, but this ‘identity’ results from configuring and constantly reconfiguring relationships. As Keith Morrison reminds us (in Complexity Theory and the Philosophy of Education, Oxford, Wiley-Blackwell 2008: 16):

Change is ubiquitous, and stability and certainty are rare. Complexity theory is a theory of change, evolution, adaptation and development for survival. It breaks with simple successionist cause-and-effect models, linear predictability, and a reductionist approach to understanding phenomena, replacing them with organic, non-linear and holistic approaches respectively…in which relations within interconnected networks are the order of the day…

By ‘complexity’ one should not only understand something numerical, such as a world with a total population of about 8 billion people, although this adds to its complexity. Rather, the total (and constantly changing) number of living beings in the world (including humans) are all interconnected in almost incomprehensibly complex, systemic ways, including economically and biologically, and these are interconnected, in turn, with inorganic natural elements such as air, soil, and water. The consequences of complex interconnections amount to continuing changes taking place all the time, as different elements and actors continually affect one another. 

For example, human industrial-economic activities affect the quality and composition of the soil, water, and air on the planet, which affect all living beings in turn, in an ongoing reciprocal process. In total, all these mutually connected subsets of elements and living entities comprise the planetary ecosystem, which is an overarching, complex system. What does this have to do with Donald Trump as candidate in the imminent US presidential election?

To answer this question one has to remember that what makes complex systems so special is not only that they normally comprise a large number of components, but that they are ‘open’ in a double sense: they are open to the ‘influence’ of their environment, but in addition, every one of their constituent parts is open to changes in the system; that is, it is affected by such changes (even if no component has access to the behaviour of the system as a whole).

So, for example, a social-ecological subsystem such as a family is embedded in broader subsystems such as schools, urban, suburban, or rural areas, which are (in turn) situated in certain socioeconomic contexts and specific kinds of culture. An individual in a family will unavoidably be affected by all the differences and changes in the broader subsystems in which they live. 

Urie Bronfenbrenner’s well-known ecological theory for human development (so-called ‘develecology’), which focuses on the kind of relations involved in social systems and subsystems like the ones referred to above, enables one to comprehend the intricate interrelations involved. Bronfenbrenner’s theory shows how everything in (and ‘surrounding’) an individual’s life codetermines his or her relative well-being in complex ways. The complexity of a person’s insertedness in these overlapping subsystems can be gauged from Shelton’s succinct account of Bronfenbrenner’s schema for understanding it (Shelton, L.G., The Bronfenbrenner Primer – A Guide to Develecology, New York: Routledge, 2019: 10):

Bronfenbrenner’s scheme is a system of concepts: the person exists in a system of relationships, roles, activities, and settings, all interconnected. Individual development takes place as the developing person ages, constructs an understanding of his or her experience, and learns to act effectively within the system in which she or he is participating. Simultaneously, the development of the person changes the system. The system changes because as a person develops, his or her actions change, and other people in the system therefore respond differently to the developing person. At the same time, the settings the person participates in are interrelated with each other and with other settings. As well, the settings are part of the culture in which the whole system of settings and the roles, relationships, and activities within them are embedded.

It is not difficult to grasp the concept of the virtually untraceable, constantly changing and increasing, number of interactions (and their effects) among people and settings that this involves. Bronfenbrenner’s account of complex social conditions implies that every individual action in a social context has an effect on the actions of others, which, in turn, changes the social context, and the latter, again, influences the future actions of people involved. In the case of Donald Trump it is no different.

 I wrote earlier about the manner in which mainstream media demonise Trump, and suggested that this enhances his media presence, and therefore his conspicuousness in America’s social and political space. Furthermore, given the unavoidably complex relations involved, such negative portrayals of Trump are not necessarily bad for the latter. Take President Biden’s recent remark that Trump supporters are ‘garbage.’ Fed into the complex web of communication, and interpersonal relations in the US, one might expect that this would only serve to reinforce the polarisation that already exists in the American political field. 

But it is not that simple: sure, it would make dyed-in-the-wool Democrats snigger with delight, and confirmed Trump supporters foam at the mouth, but – as might have been expected – when Kamala Harris responded to Biden’s thoughtless remark by saying that she would ‘strongly disagree with any criticism of people based on who they vote for,’ another twist was registered in the grid of consequential linguistic utterances – one that might cause some Democrats to feel a twinge of shame at Joe Biden’s folly, and correspondingly, warm to Kamala Harris’s show of political ‘decency,’ as well as to Donald Trump as a target of such an unfair comment.

It is not beyond the realm of the possible that some people might even change political allegiance, prompted by Biden’s comment, given that, in an already complex set of interrelations, few things are as complex as the human psyche. This is why human beings are not conclusively predictable. 

With great perspicacity, Brent Hamacheck casts more light on the reasons for Trump’s candidacy for the presidency being so complex – something that some would claim makes it impossible to predict the outcome of the election, but others (including myself) would understand as being in Trump’s favour. Hamacheck comments on ‘the three reasons people hate Trump,’ and divides Trump haters into three groups – Silly, Subconscious, and Sinister – the first two of which, he claims, are susceptible to being rationally persuaded about the error of their feelings, while the last group should be regarded with justified suspicion and disapproval. 

The ‘sillies’ hate Trump because of his brash, sometimes vulgar personality, which, Hamacheck avers, has nothing to do with his capacity to govern well and formulate sensible policies. This is why they could be convinced that they should change their attitude towards Trump as potential president. Those who hate the ‘orange man’ at a subliminal level, on the other hand, do so – according to Hamacheck – because of the inner conflict he causes in them through his unapologetic love for America.

The conflict, explains Hamacheck, obtains between guilt (for living in a prosperous country like America), shame (brought about by Trump telling them America is great), and altruism (linked to the virtue of self-sacrifice, which is undermined by Trump advocating precisely the opposite). Both of these groups can, according to Hamacheck, be cured of their redundant hatred for Trump. In fact, there are already people like this who have stated their intention of voting for the Republican.

The last group – the ‘sinisters’ – however, are not conflicted over what Trump represents, but are ‘vehemently opposed to it,’ says Hamacheck. They are the globalists for whom the valorisation of a country’s unique spirit and value is totally anathema because they want to dissolve all national boundaries and dilute all sense of national identity, both of which stand in the way of their globalist ambitions.

It should be clear why Hamacheck’s analysis is pertinent to what I have written above about complexity. It reveals just how difficult it is to predict with certainty where and how the sentiments of individuals concerning a prominent personality like Trump would take them when it comes to voting.