Groups, representation and democracy: Between promise and practice

By Darren Halpin

Whether called pressure groups, NGOs, social movement organisations or organised civil society, the value of ‘groups’ to the policy process, to economic growth, to governance, to political representation and to democracy has always been contested. However, there seems to be a contemporary resurgence in this debate largely centred on their democratising potential: can groups effectively link citizens to political institutions and policy processes? Are groups an antidote to emerging democratic deficits? Or do groups themselves face challenges in demonstrating their legitimacy and representativeness?

This book debates the democratic potential and practice of groups; focussing on the vibrancy of internal democracies, and modes of accountability with those who join such groups and to the constituencies they advocate for. It draws on literatures covering national, European and global levels, and presents new empirical material from the UK and Australia

• Language: English
• Publisher: Manchester University Press
• Release date: Jul 19, 2013
• ISBN: 9781847796967

Darren Halpin

Darren R. Halpin is Professor in Public Policy at the Robert Gordon University, Aberdeen

Book preview

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Groups as agents of democracy?

Introduction

The role of interest groups in political life, and public policy making in particular, is well established. Yet research on groups has been, for a long time, a low status form of scholarship in contrast to electoral studies and the study of political parties. While there has been talk of post-parliamentary democracies for several decades (see Jordan and Richardson 1987) – the implication being that groups and not parties or parliaments are the key actors – there has been little discernable sea-change in scholarship (Baumgartner and Leech 1998; Richardson 1999). In their preface to Organized Interest and American Democracy, Schlozman and Tierney (1986, ix) note the preponderance of studies of ‘the electoral process as linkage’ and lament the absence of a group focus. Thus, with good reason, it is usual for interest group scholars to bemoan the lack of interest in their field. Against the other major institutional fields of study – parties, parliaments and elections – the volume of scholarship has clearly been less intense.

By contrast, the past decade has borne witness to something of a resurgence in group scholarship (see Beyers et al. 2008). This has provided both opportunities to rejuvenate the field by incorporating new insights, and also challenges in terms of assessing whether longstanding orthodoxies and frameworks are up to tackling contemporary research questions. There are numerous reasons to account for this renewed interest. Perhaps the most obvious is the discussion over governance.

The terrain over which policy making and political activity occurs is said to have become ‘de-centered’; the dominant frame for policy analysis is shifting from ‘the state’ or ‘government’ to a broader and more encompassing notion of ‘governance’ and ‘governing capacity’ (see Rhodes 1997; Painter and Pierre 2005). From such a perspective groups are incorporated as actors in networks of authority and co-ordination. This has renewed interest in the study of groups. For a time, groups were viewed as impeding policy making in the public interest. Terms like ‘iron triangle’, ‘sub-government’, ‘private interest government’ and ‘closed policy community’ all conjured up the impression of hidden practice, with groups seizing control of governmental policy for their own narrow self interest.¹ Mancur Olson argued that group ‘rent-seeking’ activity curtailed economic competitiveness (1982), and groups were bracketed with terms like ‘ungovernability’ and ‘overload’ (see discussion in Wilson 1990, 29). Groups were said to be dominating and undermining ‘representative’ institutions and the legitimacy of the state.

However, the tide is turning somewhat on this pejorative usage of groups. Aided by governance narratives, groups now facilitate or enable policy (see Bell and Hindmoor 2009). Increasingly a valuable contemporary role is found for groups in assisting nation states to address global challenges like international competitiveness (see e.g. Marsh 1995; Weiss 1998). There is even the talk of a revitalization of neocorporatism (even macro-corporatism) in the European context (e.g. Schmitter and Grote 1997; Rhodes 2001). The multi-level nature of governance also means ‘groups’ are studied in (linked) national, supranational and global spheres. This approach fosters new challenges in analysing group activity beyond domestic national conditions. Governance frameworks also give renewed attention to ‘groups’ in a role of delivering and managing public services: often by engaging in partnerships or collaborations (Rhodes 1997; Paxton et al. 2005; for a review of literature see Durose and Rummery 2006). Thus, there has been a recent flush of scholarship and debate over the role of groups in contemporary governance, at various scales.

But the reason why groups are gaining most renewed interest is their ‘democratizing’ qualities. Does their incorporation into governance structures help democratize those structures? Views vary widely on this question and it is the subject of a vigorous scholarly discussion. This book examines interest group organizations against the backdrop of this ongoing debate.

Yet to say that this book engages in an examination of the democratic contribution of groups is not, on its own, very helpful. The ‘project’ of democracy has enrolled groups in various guises. As such it is prudent to delimit the task for this book. According to Warren (2001) groups are important for democracy in three broad ways: they produce ‘developmental effects on individuals’; they produce ‘public sphere effects’; and they generate ‘institutional effects’.

There is a vast literature that focuses upon the developmental role of groups as ‘schools of democracy’. Participation in group activity, it is argued, develops a strong sense of political efficacy, ‘other regarding’ dispositions, skills important to engage in political life more broadly, and perhaps even stronger horizontal linkages of trust with other citizens. In short, group life is considered central to fostering a political literacy that is often viewed as an important underpinning for healthy democracies. The ‘developmental effects’ of groups is not a theme pursued here (several recent volumes on associations and social capital pursue this type of approach: see Van Deth 1997; Maloney and Rossteutscher 2007). Critical theorists, in particular the latter members of the Frankfurt School, such as Jürgen Habermas (1992), focused considerable effort on outlining the importance of a fully functioning public sphere. The public sphere is an arena where debate can be carried out ‘free’ from the ‘steering’ forces of power and money to which the spheres of state and market, respectively, are imbued. Groups, it is argued, populate the public sphere. And, as such, groups are well placed to raise the alarm when problems or issues emerge which require the attention of the state. They solidify concerns, amplify those concerns, focus political attention, and even develop solutions (Warren 2001, 78). In essence, they contribute to a public debate and conversation in which issues are freely communicated and deliberated over by citizens. Moreover, the public sphere can compensate for uneven power in other spheres: groups can voice concerns of the economically or politically marginalized thus making the public sphere (unlike market or state) more inclusive. Groups also act as a focal point for commonality in areas not reflected in markets or the state: similar diseases, hobbies etc. In sum, groups are important vehicles for injecting ‘voice’ into the public sphere and keeping the ‘conversation’ going.

But it is the institutional effects of groups on democratic life that are the core focus of this volume. If developmental effects have to do with the contribution of groups to ‘individuals’ democratic capacities and dispositions’ and public sphere effects are about the role of groups in ‘developing public opinion and forming collective judgements’, the institutional effects are about the role of groups ‘in the institutions of governance that translate the capacities of individuals and judgements of public into collective decisions and actions’ (Warren 2001, 82–3). In this regard, groups are important with respect to their provision of positive advocacy to formal political institutions: they can provide collective resistance to oppression; they can actually ‘govern’ as delegates of the state or provide alternatives to market or state ‘solutions’ to problems; and they can add democratic legitimacy to governing institutions. In the latter case, to the extent that the group ‘system’ offers all an equal chance to influence outcomes, groups may act to legitimate decisions (attract acceptance) where individuals do not actually get what they want. Groups may be particularly important in moderating extreme demands and/or fostering an approach whereby citizens are happy to get what they want most of the time: that is, they can foster a sense of restraint and demand limitation.

This book addresses the way in which scholars make claims about the democratic potential of groups (and assess those claims). In particular, it scrutinizes the assumption that groups must be democratic practitioners themselves before they can democratize governing processes. As will become evident, much of the disagreement over whether groups are agents of democracy can be traced back to differing starting points. Where public sphere accounts see group voice as democratic agency, others, perhaps adopting an institutional account, ask ‘Who do they represent?’. Amidst a confusion of imprecise claims and expectations about groups and democracy, this volume aims to disentangle what claims seem relevant to what groups. What metrics are appropriate to measure group democratic practices in a normative sense? And, in practice, how do groups go about setting and thereafter developing democratic practices? But beforehand, it is important to get a flavour of the claims made for the ‘institutional’ effects of groups on democratic life. Why are they invoked as democratic agents?

Renewed debate: asserting a democratic role for groups

There has been a recent resurgence of scholarship and debate over the role of interest groups in enhancing the democratic nature of contemporary governance, at various scales. Significantly, it has come mostly from outside of the political science-based interest group literature. It is possible to identify several separate threads in the literature which have converged to focus scholarly attention upon groups.

The decline of parties … and the rise of groups?

One area where groups are garnering renewed attention is, of all places, in the party literature. As Clive Thomas (2001) explains, ‘political parties and interest groups are among the most important institutions that define the character of the political system and serve as the principal links between citizens and their government’. It is perhaps, then, no surprise that the apparent ‘failure’ of parties to maintain linkage has increased the attention paid to interest groups. The ‘decline of party’ argument has, in some quarters, catalysed the ‘rise of group’ argument.

Early pluralists argued that groups were as important as, if not more important than, parliament, government and parties. The general argument that class-based cleavages and hence class conflict had given way to group-based politics, as the American pluralists were arguing, had resonance in the work of Samuel Beer. In Modern British Politics (1965, 318), he quoted R.T. McKenzie’s thesis that pressure groups had become a far more important channel for communication than parties. He linked the decline of class cleavage with the decline of the social base of political parties (and hence their integrative capacities). Therefore, he looked to groups as the new avenue for political linkage. This general approach has been the subject of intense discussion and empirical research. The emerging consensus is that the major institution of political linkage, the political party, is losing its dominance and relevance. There is a decline of parties.

Understanding the ‘decline of party’ thesis is important for appreciating what democratic characteristics such authors then go on to invest in groups. According to Lawson and Merkl, parties fail when they ‘do not perform the functions they are expected to perform’ (1988, 5). Adopting a ‘linkage perspective’, Lawson argues that parties are failing to provide a linkage between citizens and the larger political system (allowing citizens some influence) and between governments and the ‘energies and loyalties of its citizens’ (1988, 16).² But why is this so?

A major explanatory factor is that the social base of parties is eroding from under them. In the face of substantial social change – for instance the rise of ‘post-materialism’ (Inglehart 1990) or the ‘end of class’ (Pakulski and Waters 1996) – parties have been unable (or unwilling) to maintain their ties to reliable and reproducible social bases of support. They appear as relics of past social, economic and political conditions. Theories of ‘class-dealignment’ (see Pakulski and Waters 1996) or ‘partisan de-alignment’ (see Dalton 2000) seek to capture the dynamic. As Dalton (2000, 22) reliably summarizes, the dealignment thesis suggests that ‘party ties were generally eroding as a consequence of social and political modernization’. And, as Pakulski and Waters note, ‘class organizations, progressively weakened by dealignment, are increasingly unable to support and reproduce their class referent in civil society’ (1996, 134). Of course, this analysis may reasonably be expected to equally apply to groups; a point which is returned to later.

In the place of class-based referents, Pakulski and Waters (1996, 155) argue that parties confront a post-class society understood as stratified according to status.³ The limited number of social cleavages or bases supposed by ‘cleavage politics’ are replaced by ‘a virtually infinite overlap of associations and identifications that are shifting and unstable’ (1996, 155). The lines of the emerging stratification are very hard to predict as there ‘is no central cleavage or single dimension along which preferences can be ordered’, which in turn means that ‘The stratification process is constantly fluid’ (1996, 155). Clearly, this implies a different way of working for political parties.

While party failure as a consequence of social change presents parties as passive victims of changing circumstances, others argue they are to some extent authors of their own fate. For some, the decline in party linkage is partly about strategic choice. Rose and Mackie argue that for parties ‘adaptation is a necessary condition of survival’ and, as such, party ‘careers’ are stories of cycles of adaptation: precisely ‘how a party persists’ is as important a question as ‘whether it persists’ at all (1988, 534, 542).⁴ The organizational response from parties is most often said to undermine a linkage role: understood in terms of functions such as interest articulation and aggregation, and in relation to fostering participation (Lawson 1988). The claim is not that party failure means parties cease to exist as political actors, but that they have reorganized in such a manner as to alter their linkage value. The suggestion implicit here is that the major party organizations put the imperative of survival (as measured by electoral success) ahead of sustaining a primary linkage function.

The study of party development has generated a number of narratives of organizational evolution that seek to capture the ‘hollowing out’ of parties. They grant party organizations a degree of agency in assessing changes in their operating conditions and adapting accordingly. A recent contribution from Blyth and Katz (2005) examines how the political party in western democracies has evolved by adapting to environmental shifts; exogenous and endogenous, internal and external. They chart the development of parties from ‘elite’, ‘mass’, ‘catch-all’, and contemporary ‘cartel’ organizational forms. They conclude that each advance in party form was instigated by various ‘external, internal and networking dilemmas’ (2005, 38). Parties are treated as a general label for a type of political organizational form, whereby variations in that form emerge in order to better fit with changeable environmental conditions. They say, ‘changes allowed for the development, persistence and success of specific party forms that were more advantageous under changed conditions, while these changes also required that the existing parties adapt, if they were not to be selected out by the new circumstances’ (2005, 38).⁵ Their point is that parties have adapted in a manner that undermines their linkage value.

In a similar vein, Dalton and Wattenberg (2000, 284) explain that parties are partly to blame for ‘exacerbating’ the problems of falling commitment to democratic participation. In particular, they single out the emergence of ‘cartel parties’, the decline in attempts to ‘mobilize citizens’, the trend to ‘centralize and professionalize in lieu of citizens active as party members’, the tendency to ‘develop public funding sources in order to insulate themselves from the ebbs and flows of public support’, and the use of ‘marketing principles’ to run elections and to guide policy development, as organizational trends among parties that undermine their link with those they represent and, ultimately, ‘undermine the democratic process in the long term’ (2000, 284). They are not optimistic that dealignment can be reversed, and suggest that we may be witnessing an ‘enduring change in the relationship between citizens and political parties in contemporary democracies’ (2000, 266).

It would not be forcing the point to say that there is a remarkable degree of convergence around the enhanced role of groups in ameliorating the deficit left by party failure. For Lawson and Merkl (1988, 3), party failure can be viewed against the backdrop of the emergence of ‘alternative organizations’, which include ‘issue groups, ad hoc coalitions, flash parties, neighbourhood committees, and religious movements’ (1988, 3). Indeed, Lawson (1988, 30–1) concludes that ‘alternative organizations emerge when major parties fail to provide acceptable forms of linkage’. Merkl (1988, 587) explains that

the rise of the current crop of protest and single-issue movements in the advanced democratic countries must be seen also against the changing roles of political parties. Parties and the representative process no longer play quite the dominant role in democratic systems that they once did. They have increasingly abandoned important policymaking areas to interest groups, bureaucratic planners, or neocorporatist interest intermediation – or failed to claim them when they came into focus.

Likewise, Dalton and Wattenberg (2000, 283) see an enhanced role for groups as articulators of interests in the face of the decline of parties as linkage; arguing that the ‘potential loss of representation [as a result of party reorganization] is largely counterbalanced by increased roles for other agents of interest articulation’. Groups offer individuals a channel to pursue interests in the political arena quite separate from political parties; a ‘Myriad of special-interest groups and single issue lobbies have assumed many of the parties’ interest articulation functions’ (Dalton 2000, 22, 29). As a function of social change and modernization, Dalton and Wattenberg explain, ‘The explosion of an interest group society is surely likely to continue’ (2000, 283). Indeed, in terms of agenda setting, Ian Marsh (1995) argues that social movements and interest groups, not parties or parliaments, have been the key initiators of the major shifts in Australian public policy since the 1970s.

Some explore a middle ground between parliamentary democracy and group engagement. Proposals in Australia have emerged for better use of group evidence at parliamentary committees as a way to encourage strategic policy making and generate legitimacy for the ‘long-view’ (Marsh 1986, 1995) But, naturally, there is ready scepticism about an enhanced role for groups, with UK scholars raising a concern that groups should not usurp the powers of elected governments (see Jordan and Stevenson 2000; Bonney 2003). And, in the Scottish context, where a new parliament does include more powers for committees and a promise of a stronger role for public engagement and group evidence taking, the signs are that such institutional design is making a minimal impact (see Cairney 2006).

As will become evident later in this volume, the conditions said to explain party decline – and the conceptualization of party careers and organizational forms – are perhaps equally applicable to groups. The hollowing out of parties, therefore, is also suggestive of the hollowing out of groups.

Democratic deficit and the tyranny of majoritarian government

The problem of ‘democratic deficit’ is diagnosed in most western democracies; typically on the back of declining voter turnout, falling party memberships and indicators that citizens have lost trust in politicians (Dalton 2004; Pattie et al. 2004). Not only are parties hollowed out, but electoral systems point to citizen disillusionment and disengagement (see Dalton and Wattenberg 2000; Scarrow 2002). The argument is that citizens in modern western democratic states are disillusioned with the traditional democratic institutions of party, parliament and welfare state. Given such disillusionment, political institutions suffer deficits of both democratic authority and legitimacy. In the face of this evidence, there is increasing acceptance (or at least debate) by governments of all persuasions that party organizations and electoral/parliamentary politics alone are insufficient mechanisms for the transmission of citizens’ preferences and their participation in the political system. Important constituencies lack presence and/or voice in party and parliamentary forums, which make them less than satisfactory as mechanisms for formulating inclusive public policy programmes. To address these deficits, governments have emphasized the need for concrete engagement between the machinery of government and what they call ‘civil society’. This engagement, they argue, would assist in achieving the ‘democratization’ of major political institutions. In operationalizing this ‘engagement’ democratic states seek to access public opinion and mobilize consent through direct forms of citizen consultation. Yet a significant role has been cast for groups. It is noteworthy that authors (and government actors) in this tradition often refer to groups as nongovernmental organizations (NGOs), voluntary organizations, not-for-profit organizations, third sector groups, and civil society organizations (CSOs).

But why involve groups? The answer is that groups are often regarded as constituting or populating ‘civil society’. It flows from this starting point that demands of citizens for greater participation, voice and presence in previously closed public policy making arenas can be satisfied through the increased participation of groups. An intended consequence of group engagement is to increase the legitimacy of public policy decisions. Further, the substantive outcomes of public policy should be better given that the groups provide expertise and information to policy makers, in addition to ultimately enhancing the quality of policy implementation.

For the same reason that advocates of majoritarian government are concerned over the rise of faction and hyper-pluralism, critics of parliamentary systems see groups as necessary to give vulnerable minorities voice. For some, groups are offered as a means to supplement majoritarian institutions of representative democracy by acting as conduits for minorities or those ‘stigmatised or marginalised in the policy process’ (Sawer and Zappala 2001, 13). For others, extant parliamentary systems lack the ability to mobilize societal consent necessary for (long-term) strategic policy making capacity; they propose an enhanced role for groups but in ways that do not undermine parliamentary sovereignty (see Marsh 1995).

Perhaps the most ambitious reworking of the potential for groups in addressing democratic deficit has been that of the associative democrats (see Cohen and Rogers 1992, 1995; Hirst 1994, 1996). Rather than tinker with existing majoritarian systems, they assert the need for a new form of democratic governance. In addressing this eventuation, Cohen and Rogers argue, ‘A need for new structures of citizen involvement in decision making, for more flexible means of adjusting to rapid change, and for institutions capable of extending public capacities for regulation into the interstices of the economy and social life are all implied’ (1992, 434). They reserve a special place for ‘associations’ in their vision for a new democratic governance:

Associations, we believe are a large part of the answer. Their capacities for information gathering and dissemination, the construction and enforcement of standards, and, more generally, the enlistment of private actors as supplementary supports for public regulatory efforts are at this point especially valuable. (1992, 434)

Given that parliamentary or territorial representation is incapable of achieving the desired ends, they argue that associations could be useful in making up the democratic shortfall.

Democratizing global governance

The discussion about the democratic deficit being experienced by nation states is mirrored, and perhaps even amplified, in the international relations and global politics literature. Arguably, the problem of democratic legitimacy is more pronounced in supranational and global forms of governance. The difficulty that nation states have in governing ‘de-territorialized’ economic flows and social and cultural relations, the absence of ‘nation state-like’ mechanisms to legitimate emerging forms of global governance (an absence of a global government and parliament or global citizenship), and the dominance of large nation states in many international governmental organizations (IGOs), are all cited as reasons for ‘democratic deficits’ in global governance. There is some acceptance that the legitimacy afforded IGOs by the mere fact that most are composed of member states – most of which are democratically elected governments – is stretched as the scope of decisions made by such institutions, and their impact, grows (Anderson and Rieff 2005, 34). This is all the more critical as evidence suggests that IGOs act with increasing, albeit modest, levels of autonomy from member states (Scholte et al. 1999, 108). While criticism of IGOs, such as the UN, has most often been levelled on performance grounds, it is now shifting to concerns over democratic legitimacy (Falk 2006). That is, concerns over ‘output legitimacy’ have drifted into concerns with ‘input legitimacy’. The mood is well summed up by Scholte when he observes that ‘contemporary globalization has provoked a crisis of democracy’ (2002, 289). Consequently, one of the central questions confronting scholars of international relations and global politics is how to democratically legitimate global governance; how to construct conditions for accountability, representation and popular participation beyond the nation state.

With a desire to address the democratic deficit in global governance, some (e.g. Held 1995) have advocated strengthening IGOs and/or working towards establishing a form of global government. But many scholars have also advocated an engagement with (organized) global civil society – or International NGOs (INGOs) – as a way to move forward (see for example Keck and Sikkink 1998; Scholte 2000, 2002; Van Rooy 2004; Falk 2006). Some, such as Risse (2006, 195), argue that ‘transnational governance arrangements ought to include external stakeholders as a way of improving both their participatory quality and their effectiveness’. Again, groups emerge as democratic agents. This imagined role is often assisted by what might be considered normatively loaded definitions. For instance, key scholars produce definitions such as Sikkink’s observation that ‘International NGOs claim to speak on behalf of affected communities and thus bring into international institutions perspectives from people affected by international policies and projects, but normally excluded from global or national policy making’ (2002, 312).⁶ As is discussed in Chapter 2, definitions which include an approved political agenda as a definitional condition are not at all helpful in gaining traction on questions of the democratic potential of groups.

The growth of INGOs and the increasing level of intensity and frequency of engagement with IGOs (see Gordenker and Weiss 1996, 44; Scholte et al. 1999, 109; Glasius et al. 2005, 408), it is argued, provides a base from which to build new forms of democratic accountability and legitimacy (see for example Keck and Sikkink 1998; Scholte 2002; Van Rooy 2004). Such authors no doubt approve of findings that INGOs are increasingly close to actual ‘decision making’ (see Martens 2002).

The core claims made with respect to the democratic contribution of INGOs is summed up well by Collingwood and Logister (2005, 184):

INGOs can play a critical role in democratising the global order and achieving greater distributive justice. INGOs can act as agents for change in the reform or radicalisation of current political and economic structures, offering an attractive alternative to the centuries-old rivalry between states. They can hold other state and non-state actors to account; act as democratising agents, giving under-represented peoples a ‘voice’ at the global level; and put social and moral issues onto the global agenda.

The notion that global civil society, or (I)NGOs, can contribute to plugging the democratic deficit associated with global governance is echoed by many IGOs. Most of these institutions, such as the United Nations, have had longstanding arrangements in place to consult with groups of various types (Gordenker and Weiss 1996). What is unique about the current period is that these relations with groups are being viewed through a different lens; burdened, some might say, with expectations of groups as agents for democracy – as ‘global civil society’. The European Commission has made its expectations of such an engagement clear. It claims that civil society ‘offers a real potential to broaden the debate on Europe’s role. It is a chance to get citizens more actively involved in achieving the Union’s objectives and to offer them a structured channel for feedback, criticism and protest’ (European Commission 2001, 15).⁷ The United Nations has also reflected on how best to engage with civil society, forming a Panel of Eminent Persons on United Nations–Civil Society Relations which reported in 2004. The Panel’s report argues that the engagement with NGOs ‘could help the United Nations do a better job, further its global goals, become more attuned and responsive to citizens’ (UN 2004, 8). Even the World Trade Organization (WTO) has become more engaged in consultations and dialogue with NGOs (Mason 2004).

Others: social capital

As Warren (2001) noted, a great deal of interest in groups reflects a concern with social capital. The loss of trust in political institutions and declining rates of participation more generally in civic life has sparked renewed interest in the role of associations in offering participatory opportunities that can re-engage people with politics in ways that parties fail to do (see Putnam 1993 for the US; Hall 1999 for the UK). But ‘participation’, or participatory opportunities, need not be political in nature in order to generate social capital. Bridge clubs, local garden societies, childcare groups and sporting clubs are no doubt very important for bringing people face to face and fostering civic ties. And, therefore, any decline in the vibrancy of such associations is something worth investigating in the context of social capital arguments. However, these groups are not by definition organizations with the explicit aim of influencing public policy, or providing political linkage. They may drift sporadically in and out of public policy life, but it is not their core (or often even a major) purpose for being. Therefore social capital issues, and these types groups, are not a major concern to this book.

Some second thoughts?

As the above review demonstrates, for the most part groups seem to be parachuted into theoretical discussions where a vehicle – or an agent – needs to be introduced to serve a democratic linkage function. Groups are sketched in as ‘agents for democracy’; often ably assisted by theoretical schemas which attribute a democratic role to, for instance, the ‘third sector’, ‘social movements’ or ‘civil society’. But, this renewed attention to groups has been accompanied by increased scrutiny of their democratic credentials. As will become evident, the initial rush to endorse groups as democratic agents has been followed by caution, and in some cases outright scepticism. Even those who are up-beat about the democratic impact of groups often recognize that this may require changes in group practice or that there are ambiguous grey areas – unresolved questions – that limit group democratic potential.

For one, the endorsement of groups as the successor to parties in constituting key forms of political linkage raises concerns. For instance, Dalton and Wattenberg remain unconvinced that groups are able to take on the interest aggregation role traditionally undertaken by parties (2000, 283). They highlight the qualitative difference in the linkage provided by groups and parties and the impact that this may have on democracy; indicating concerns over a democratic system driven by groups rather than parties. It is their view that ‘we should be concerned that political change may give rise to a pattern of hyper-democracy: we may become more effective in expressing our special interests, while at the same time failing to bring interests together for the common good’ (2000, 283–4). Groups may be effective linkage, but in being so emphasise narrow interests at the expense of constructing broader visions of the public interest.

Just this type of debate has occurred in the UK. Wyn Grant (2007) reminds us that it was Samuel Beer (1969) who saw in British party government an ability to discipline and manage the tendency for groups to pursue narrow interests. Thus, Beer’s work established that American pluralism could be made to work in a British context while avoiding the fragmentation and particularism about which many were concerned. But, in his later work, Beer saw a weakening of party government, and, the likelihood of a drift into ‘pluralistic stagnation’ (1982). Grant (2007) surmises that, were Beer able to ‘update’ his analysis for modern Britain, he would be concerned to find a dominance of narrow groups pursuing narrow ‘inner-directed’ interests that undermine attempts to govern in the broader public good. So while there is no doubt that more views are aired – perhaps one indicator of a healthy democracy – the capacity for aggregation and the development of a broadly shared governing consensus is made more difficult. The group solution may not be adequate.

A more general concern in entrusting political linkage functions to the group system is its inherent bias. Contra to the early group theorists who suggested that where there was an interest a group would emerge, the consensus is that many interests are either unorganized or poorly organized. A longstanding thread in the group literature identifies a heavy ‘bias’ towards business and economic interests; even if there is some disagreement on why this is so. Schattschneider’s (1960) statement about the ‘upper class accent’ of the US group system remains the consistent finding (see Schlozman and Tierney 1986).⁸ More recently, Lowery and Gray (2004) have explored the ‘sources’ of bias. They argue that changes in group environments, such as levels of governmental attention and public opinion shape the formation of groups. They suggest that some interests are represented by actors other than groups (for example civil servants or experts) – what they refer to as invisible or ‘ghost’ groups. They also point to the effect of group population dynamics on the formation and mortality of groups, which in turn shapes the contours of the group system. In essence, they point out that determining what an unbiased group system would look like is rather difficult.

Nevertheless, there are real concerns about the absence of some voices in policy discussion. Speaking on the UK context, Grant expresses concern about the constitution of the group population. The interest group system