How the Filibuster Perverts Democratic Government

Democracy depends upon accountability. Citizens elect representatives, those representatives govern, and voters then judge the results. This feedback loop allows democracies to correct mistakes, reward success, and change course as public opinion shifts. The modern Senate filibuster disrupts this process by allowing a minority of senators to prevent elected majorities from governing. As a result, parties can win elections yet remain unable to enact their agendas, thus making it harder for voters to assign credit or blame. The filibuster is often defended as a constitutional safeguard against majority tyranny, but both the Constitution's design and the writings of its Framers suggest otherwise. Rather than protecting republican government, the modern filibuster is a perversion of republicanism and the democratic accountability upon which it depends.

How the modern filibuster works

Before debating whether the filibuster should be abolished, we first need to be clear about what that word means. The term “filibuster” can be defined broadly or narrowly, and its meaning has shifted depending on time and context. The modern filibuster can be most accurately described as a supermajority requirement on the Senate. Technically speaking, neither the Constitution nor the Senate rulebook requires a supermajority to pass ordinary legislation. In fact, the word "filibuster" does not even appear in the Senate rules ^[1]. What the rules do require is that three-fifths of senators (currently 60) agree to end debate before the Senate can proceed to a final vote ^[2]. In theory, a bill can still pass by a simple majority. In practice, however, senators who oppose a bill will not vote to end debate and allow it to pass. Consequently, legislation rarely reaches a final vote unless it already has the support of 60 senators.

The distinction is not meaningful. What matters is whether legislation can pass, not the formal stage at which it is blocked. In practice, the modern Senate operates as a supermajority institution regardless of where the 60-vote requirement appears. Alexander Hamilton warned that when more than a majority is required to act, the result is to give the “minority a negative upon the majority” ^[3]. In other words, it creates veto power. A minority of senators can block legislation supported by a majority of both chambers, the President, and often the public. Whatever else one thinks about the filibuster, that is its practical effect.

Let's be honest: no one defends the filibuster because they believe it is an essential parliamentary procedure. Rather, they defend it because they believe legislation should require more than a simple majority. If the Senate rules were rewritten tomorrow to plainly state that legislation needs 60 votes to pass, the arguments in its favor would remain the same. Supporters would still argue that national changes should demand broad consensus and that supermajority requirements promote stability.

For the purposes of this essay, therefore, the filibuster will be treated as what it has become: a supermajority requirement on legislation. When I argue for abolishing the filibuster, I mean eliminating any rule that allows a minority to block action supported by a majority. Measures should pass by majority vote, except in those specified cases where the Constitution demands a supermajority. That is how the House operates today, and it is closer to the system envisioned by the Constitution's architects than the modern 60-vote Senate.

Majority rule is a foundational principle

Lex majoris partis, the law of the majority, is a foundational principle of American republican government. Contrary to the popular narrative, James Madison and the Framers did not design the Constitution to reject majority rule. They disagreed with one another on many questions, but they were remarkably consistent in viewing majority rule as essential to republicanism. Madison described majority rule as a “fundamental principle” ^[4] and the “root of republicanism” ^[5]. Hamilton called it “the fundamental maxim of republican government” ^[3]. Thomas Jefferson believed it is “the first principle of republicanism” and “the fundamental law of every society of individuals of equal rights” ^[6]. Even John Adams, who famously used the phrase “tyranny of the majority,” rejected supermajority government; he dismissed the idea that more than a majority should be required as “the most absurd institution that ever took place among men” ^[7]. Together, these views reveal a shared understanding: majority rule is not at odds with republicanism, but its foundation.

The Constitution itself reflects this principle. It expressly identifies the circumstances in which Congress must act by supermajority, such as convicting an impeached official or expelling a member ^[8]. The enumeration of those exceptions implies all other measures require only a majority. The Constitution also sets the quorum for each chamber at a majority ^[8]. If the Framers had required a higher quorum, then a minority could halt action by simply refusing to appear. That would have created a procedural loophole akin to the modern filibuster. The Framers wrote the quorum provision to avoid precisely that kind of obstruction. They did not want a minority of legislators to prevent a majority from conducting the people’s business.

The founders believed in what Abraham Lincoln would later describe as acquiescence ^[9]. In any political community, people will disagree and have conflicting interests. There must be a mechanism that ultimately allows society to make decisions peacefully. When a majority supports a measure and a minority opposes it, only three basic outcomes are possible: the minority acquiesces to the majority, the majority acquiesces to the minority, or the government breaks down. The republican answer is that the minority must acquiesce. The majority may not always support sound policy, but a free society needs a peaceful decision rule; majority rule is the only workable alternative to minority rule or violence.

Some might dispute characterizing supermajority requirements as “minority rule.” After all, while a minority can veto legislation, it cannot enact new legislation on its own. That objection is true, but it defines power too narrowly. Political power is not limited to passing new laws; preserving the status quo is itself an exercise of power. Under simple majority rule, the side with more votes may translate its preferences into law, while the losing side must acquiesce until it can persuade more people. Under supermajority rule, that relationship is reversed: the minority can veto the majority’s program and maintain the status quo it prefers. Hamilton made precisely this point in Federalist No. 22, cautioning that giving “a minority a negative upon the majority” allows “the sense of the smaller number [to] overrule that of the greater, and give a tone to the national proceedings” ^[3]. Madison reached the same conclusion in Federalist No. 58: whenever government requires more than a majority to act, “it would be no longer the majority that would rule: the power would be transferred to the minority” ^[4]. Hence, a minority veto is not a neutral restraint on power; it is a mechanism by which the minority can impose its preferred policy outcome.  

The republican remedy to majority tyranny

Despite their steadfast support for it, the Framers were not blind to the dangers of majority rule. They understood that majorities could be unjust or shortsighted. Adams’ writing about “tyranny of the majority” spoke to a real problem. Madison and Hamilton explored similar concerns throughout The Federalist Papers. What if 51 percent of the country voted to strip rights from the other 49 percent? What if a majority pursued policies that served their immediate interests while harming the broader public? Zoning laws are an excellent modern example: local majorities often adopt restrictions that protect their property values while worsening housing shortages for everyone else.

The Framers’ task was to create a government that adhered to majority rule while containing its excesses. Many of the Constitution’s features were designed to reduce the likelihood that temporary passions or oppressive factions would capture government: A representative democracy, as opposed to a direct democracy, refines public opinion through elected officials. A large republic would make it harder for local factions to organize and dominate the whole country. Federalism divides power between the states and the national government. Separation of powers insists legislation survives scrutiny from two chambers of Congress, the President, and an independent judiciary. Constitutional protections place certain rights beyond the reach of ordinary politics altogether.

What is noteworthy about these safeguards is what they do not include: a minority veto over legislation. The Framers did not try to solve the dangers of majority rule by allowing a legislative minority to block majority action. Instead, they sought to make unjust majorities harder to form and less dangerous when they did form, while preserving the republican principle that majorities should govern. Madison described this approach as the “republican remedy” to overbearing majorities ^[10]. The Constitution was designed to filter majority rule, not abandon it. Lincoln later captured the idea perfectly: “A majority held in restraint by constitutional checks and limitations, and always changing easily with deliberate changes of popular opinions and sentiments, is the only true sovereign of a free people” ^[9].

The filibuster undermines democratic accountability

The Framers’ views do not settle the filibuster debate by themselves. They were men, not gods, and they were wrong about some things. What matters most is not simply that they opposed supermajority requirements, but why they did so. Their objection remains relevant because it concerned a basic condition of democratic government: accountability. A democratic system cannot hold elected officials responsible for governing if its rules prevent them from governing in the first place.

Democracy functions as a feedback loop: parties campaign on an agenda, voters choose among competing visions, elected officials govern, and the public then judges the results. If voters approve, they can keep the governing party in power; if not, they can replace them. As Lincoln suggested, majority rule depends on majorities being able to change as public opinion changes. Elections matter because they allow the people to express preferences and assign responsibility.

The filibuster breaks that chain. Imagine a voter who wants a change in federal policy. In one election, that voter helps elect a new House majority, but the Senate and presidency remain in the other party’s hands. In the next election, the presidency changes, but the Senate does not. Eventually, in a later election, the same party finally wins the House, the Senate, and the White House after years of voting. Under a functioning system of democratic accountability, that governing majority would then have a chance to enact its agenda, and voters could judge the results. Under the modern Senate, however, even unified control of the elected branches may not be enough. Unless the governing party can also control 60 votes in the Senate, most of its agenda will still be blocked. Even when voters do everything they’re supposed to do, the system fails to respond.

This is why the filibuster is so damaging. The American legislative process already contains multiple veto points. Ordinary legislation must pass the House, pass the Senate, be signed by the President, and survive judicial review. The Senate itself already gives equal representation to states regardless of population, making it less majoritarian than the House by design. The filibuster adds an extraconstitutional veto point to a system that already demands broad agreement before government can act; it further weakens the connection between elections and results.

Proponents of the filibuster often defend this arrangement in the name of stability. There is some merit to that argument; frequent and drastic swings in national policy can be disruptive. But stability is not the only value a government must serve. As Hamilton once warned, systems designed to prevent bad action can also prevent necessary action. “We forget how much good may be prevented,” he cautioned, “and how much ill may be produced, by…keeping affairs in the same unfavorable posture” ^[3].

Hamilton’s broader concern was what he repeatedly described as “energy” in government. Avoiding bad policy alone does not constitute good government. Good governance also requires the capacity to act, solve problems, and deliver the policies voters have endorsed. This is essential to accountability. Voters can only judge their leaders if their leaders are actually allowed to govern. If the governing party enacts its agenda and fails, voters can punish it. If it succeeds, voters can reward it. But if the system prevents the majority from acting at all, responsibility becomes scrambled. Did the governing party fail because its ideas were bad? Because it lacked conviction? Because the opposition obstructed it? Or because every proposal was mutilated through veto bargaining? The situation becomes difficult for ordinary voters to parse.

The result is a politics in which major problems remain unresolved, and no one is clearly accountable for the failure. Healthcare, immigration, housing, and other issues persist not merely because of disagreement, but because our institutions make action difficult even when voters elect a governing majority. When elections repeatedly fail to produce visible results, public distrust grows. Citizens conclude the system is rigged, broken, and incapable of responding to their needs. In that environment, it is no surprise that voters become more attracted to populist and illiberal figures who promise to bypass democratic institutions altogether. The filibuster is often defended as a safeguard of democracy, but in practice it helps create the very cynicism and dysfunction on which anti-democratic politics thrives.

The false stability of the filibuster

Supermajority requirements are often defended in the name of stability. That argument has intuitive appeal: policies with broader support are less likely to be reversed. The problem arises when, rather than being built organically through negotiation, that level of support is mandated by the chamber’s rules. Raising the threshold for legislation makes it more difficult for Congress to act. However, political demands do not disappear when Congress becomes harder to use. Laws still need to be passed, agencies still need direction, courts still need to resolve disputes, and voters still expect problems to be addressed. When Congress fails to respond, the pressure moves elsewhere.

This is why legislative paralysis distorts the constitutional system. When Congress fails to act, presidents increasingly try to govern through executive orders, administrative discretion, emergency powers, and unilateral foreign-policy decisions. Courts are also asked to resolve questions that might be better handled through legislation. The result is government action through less representative and less accountable institutions. A rule designed to restrain Congress can therefore end up empowering the executive and judiciary.

That tradeoff should worry even those who are sympathetic to supermajority rule. If the goal is stability, executive action does not provide more of it than legislation. A statute enacted by both halves of Congress and the President requires the same coalition to repeal it. An executive policy can be reversed by just the next president. This is especially visible in foreign affairs, where presidents have entered, exited, reentered, and exited international commitments in rapid succession. The result is the very uncertainty that supermajority requirements are supposed to prevent; citizens, businesses, and foreign countries are left wondering whether American policy represents the settled judgment of the country or merely the preference of the current administration.

Ezra Klein has compared congressional gridlock to traffic gridlock: when the main road is blocked, people do not stop trying to move; they take side streets ^[11]. The same dynamic applies to politics. Given that reality, the question that filibuster supporters should ask is: which part of government is best suited to act? For questions of public policy, Congress is the best answer. It is more representative, more stable, and more directly accountable than unilateral executive action or judicial policymaking. By making Congress less capable of governing, the filibuster weakens the institution best suited to absorb political demand peacefully and democratically.

Conclusion

The Framers understood that majority rule could produce unjust outcomes, but they did not conclude that minorities should therefore possess a veto. Instead, they designed a constitutional system intended to filter public opinion, restrain faction, and protect individual rights while preserving the republican maxim of majority rule. The modern filibuster departs from that tradition by allowing minorities to prevent majorities from acting. In doing so, it weakens accountability, limits government’s ability to act, and erodes confidence in democratic institutions. A democracy cannot function as an effective feedback loop if voters are unable to experience and judge the results of the governments they elect. Restoring majority rule in the Senate would not guarantee wise policy, but it would restore the foundational rule of republican government: the ability of the people to choose their leaders, hold them accountable, and peacefully change course when they fail. Jefferson once wrote that majority rule is the first principle of republicanism, yet the last a society truly learns to respect ^[6]. If the United States wants to restore its democratic institutions, it must relearn that lesson.

A path to reform

As low as my opinion is of the filibuster, I recognize that it has become so normalized in American politics that many senators would be reluctant to abolish it completely. For that reason, some middle-ground reforms may be worth considering. One option would be to calculate the cloture threshold based on senators present rather than the full Senate. If only 90 senators were present, for example, three-fifths would mean 54 votes rather than 60. Another option would be to require more than two-fifths of senators to affirmatively maintain a filibuster, rather than forcing the majority to assemble three-fifths to end one. Either change would shift more of the burden onto the minority and make filibustering less onerous for the majority. Still, these reforms would be a far cry from solving the underlying problem: a minority would retain the power to obstruct majority rule.

My favorite compromise is the proposal Senator Tom Harkin offered in 1995. Harkin suggested gradually reducing the number of votes required to end debate: first 60 votes, then 57 after several days, then 54, and finally 51 after eight days ^[12]. Senators who objected to a bill could delay it and force extended debate, but they could not kill it. Frankly, this compromise might be better than outright abolition, though filibuster defenders would likely still view it as a step too far. Its virtue is that it preserves room for extended debate without converting delay into permanent minority rule. The minority could slow the majority down but not stop it from governing.