The New Constitutional Question of the Twenty-First Century
The great constitutional struggle of the seventeenth century was between Crown and Parliament. The question was simple but profound: who governs?
The answer was not predetermined. Kings, such as Charles I claimed authority through divine right, hereditary succession and centuries of established legal tradition. Parliament claimed legitimacy through representation and long-standing rights and customs, such as the power to raise taxes. The English Civil War and the triumph of the Roundhead cause fundamentally altered the constitutional development of the English-speaking world. While the monarchy survived, it never again possessed the unquestioned authority it once enjoyed. Sovereignty gradually shifted towards representative institutions.
Nearly four centuries later, a new constitutional question is emerging across the Western world.
Who governs today?
On paper, the answer remains obvious. Citizens elect representatives, representatives form governments and governments make policy. In turn, elections provide accountability, impartial courts maintain constitutional checks and balances, and the fourth estate provides oversight. Yet in practice, those distinctions are becoming increasingly blurred. Institutions originally created to support democratic government have gradually acquired the capacity to shape, constrain and sometimes redirect it. What were once supporting institutions have, in many cases, become influential participants in the governing process itself.
Increasingly, many voters sense that something has changed. Elections occur regularly, governments come and go, yet many policies appear remarkably resistant to democratic pressure. Immigration settings, regulatory expansion, judicial activism, climate policy frameworks, administrative procedures, public sector growth and international commitments often continue along remarkably similar trajectories regardless of election results or shifts in public opinion.
The growing concern is not that democracy has disappeared. It is that democracy increasingly operates within boundaries established by institutions that are largely insulated from electoral accountability.
Across Australia, Britain, Canada, the European Union and, in a different form, the United States, power has gradually migrated away from parliaments and towards what might be described as the managerial state: an interconnected system of bureaucracies, courts, regulators, publicly funded organisations, media institutions and professional policy networks.
Unlike traditional ruling classes, this managerial elite does not derive its authority from hereditary privilege, military power or direct democratic mandate. Its authority rests upon claims of expertise, credentials, institutional control and the ability to shape public narratives.
The challenge facing modern democracies is therefore not dictatorship. It is the gradual emergence of a governing class that exercises enormous influence without direct electoral accountability, operating within institutional structures that were designed for a far simpler age. The constitutional question confronting the twenty-first century is whether these institutions ultimately serve democratic sovereignty or increasingly stand alongside it as an alternative source of political power.
James Burnham’s Prophecy
The concept is not new.
In 1941, political theorist James Burnham published The Managerial Revolution. Burnham argued that advanced societies were moving beyond traditional capitalism and socialism towards a system dominated by managers, administrators and technical experts.
According to Burnham, ownership would become less important than control. Those who managed large institutions would ultimately exercise more power than those who formally owned them.
At the time, many regarded the argument as controversial. Eight decades later, it appears remarkably prescient.
Modern societies are governed by vast organisations requiring armies of administrators, regulators, compliance specialists, legal experts, communications professionals and policy advisers. The individuals who operate these systems frequently exercise significant influence over public life without ever facing an election.
Burnham’s central insight was not that managers would secretly seize power. Rather, power would naturally flow towards those capable of administering increasingly complex institutions.
The process would be gradual, largely legal and often justified as necessary for efficiency and expertise. That description fits much of the contemporary Western experience. The resulting system would not abolish democracy, but increasingly surround it with institutions capable of moderating, constraining and directing democratic outcomes.
Why the Many Often Yield to the Few
One objection immediately arises to Burnham’s theory. If the managerial class constitutes only a relatively small proportion of society, how can it exert such influence over nations containing millions of citizens?
Part of the answer lies in the relationship between information, organisation and perception.
Political sociologist Robert Michels anticipated part of the problem more than a century ago through what he called the Iron Law of Oligarchy. His argument was simple but profound: every large organisation eventually becomes dominated by a relatively small leadership group. The reason is not corruption but complexity. Large organisations require specialists. Specialists acquire information. Information creates influence. Influence becomes authority. Over time, the leadership develops interests distinct from those it represents.
Burnham described the emergence of managerial elites. Michels explained why those elites inevitably consolidate power.
Yet neither fully explains how relatively small groups can consistently outperform much larger populations.
An answer emerges from social science experiments involving sociological games such as Werewolf, invented by Russian psychology student Dmitry Davidoff in 1986. In these studies, a small informed minority frequently defeats a much larger uninformed majority. The wolves possess a decisive advantage. They know who they are, they share information and they coordinate their actions. The villagers possess greater numbers but suffer from uncertainty. They disagree, fragment into factions and frequently turn against one another.
The lesson extends beyond the game itself. Information acts as a force multiplier. An organised minority can exercise influence far beyond its numerical size when the majority lacks coordination.
Modern managerial institutions enjoy precisely such advantages. Senior bureaucrats, regulators, journalists, academics, judges and policy professionals possess extensive networks, access to information and shared assumptions that are unavailable to most citizens. The broader public, although vastly larger, is divided by geography, occupation, ideology and competing priorities. Throw in the mix advanced information technology and social media and you get a chaotic and polarising social landscape.
Numbers alone do not determine political influence.
Political economist Timur Kuran adds another important insight through his theory of preference falsification. Kuran argued that individuals frequently conceal their genuine beliefs when they believe those beliefs fall outside socially acceptable boundaries. Citizens may privately disagree with an official narrative yet publicly conform because they assume everyone else accepts it.
The result is that a minority position can appear to be a majority position.
A person watches the news, reads newspapers, listens to experts and observes apparent agreement across institutions. They conclude that their own doubts must be unusual. Others observing the same signals reach the same conclusion. The silence of dissenters becomes evidence of consensus, creating a self-reinforcing cycle.
The apparent strength of elite opinion often exceeds its actual level of public support. Which brings us to a final and perhaps most important insight.
Many explanations of elite power assume conspiracy. Yet the reality is often more subtle.
Noam Chomsky’s concept of “manufacturing consent” provides a more plausible explanation. Chomsky argued that large institutions frequently arrive at similar conclusions without requiring explicit coordination. Journalists, bureaucrats, academics, regulators and policymakers often emerge from similar educational environments, attend the same universities, participate in the same professional networks and share broadly similar assumptions about society.
Over time, a common worldview develops. This process begins long before individuals enter positions of authority. Universities, professional accreditation systems and elite educational pathways increasingly expose future leaders to similar intellectual frameworks and assumptions. A case in point is the globally standardised MBA syllabus, which acts as both a credentialing and socialisation system. Despite operating in different countries and sectors, MBA graduates are often trained using remarkably similar approaches to governance, stakeholder management, regulation, organisational behaviour and leadership. The result is not ideological uniformity, but a tendency towards common assumptions about how institutions should function and how complex societies should be governed.
This process requires no secret meetings and no hidden commands. Individuals acting independently can arrive at remarkably similar conclusions because they have been shaped by remarkably similar experiences.
As a result, an incredible degree of consensus can emerge across institutions that are formally independent of one another. Bureaucracies, universities, major media organisations, regulatory bodies and publicly funded organisations may arrive at similar conclusions not because they are coordinating their actions, but because they are staffed by people who broadly see the world in similar ways.
Alternative perspectives are not necessarily suppressed. More often they are dismissed, marginalised or excluded from serious consideration because they fall outside the assumptions shared by the managerial class.
None of this requires conspiracy. The managerial class emerges naturally from institutional and organisational incentives and complexity.
The managerial state can therefore be understood not as a secret cabal but as the predictable outcome of Michels’ iron law operating across multiple institutions simultaneously.
Australia and the Rise of Administrative Government
Australians often regard their political system as highly democratic. Elections are fair, compulsory voting ensures participation and governments change peacefully. Yet beneath this stability a significant constitutional transformation has occurred.
Increasingly, government is conducted through administrative structures rather than parliamentary debate.
Major departments employ thousands of officials. Regulatory agencies issue extensive rules. Statutory authorities exercise broad powers. Independent commissions shape policy recommendations. Courts increasingly influence public outcomes through interpretation.
Parliament formally remains supreme within Australia’s constitutional framework. In practice, however, many policy decisions are heavily influenced before elected representatives ever consider them.
Ministers often inherit recommendations produced by large bureaucratic systems. Parliamentary scrutiny frequently occurs after policy direction has already been established.
This creates an inversion of the democratic model. Instead of bureaucracies implementing parliamentary decisions, Parliament increasingly ratifies bureaucratic decisions. The change has been gradual enough to avoid widespread public attention. Yet its implications are profound.
If voters wish to alter policy direction, they increasingly find themselves confronting institutions that continue operating regardless of election outcomes.
Narrative Management and Democratic Legitimacy
Every political system requires legitimacy. Democracies derive legitimacy from public consent. However, as trust in institutions declines, governments increasingly rely upon information management to maintain confidence.
Narrative management rarely involves outright fabrication. More commonly it involves selective disclosure, strategic framing, omission of inconvenient facts and the marginalisation of dissenting viewpoints.
This tendency becomes particularly visible during crises. Officials often justify restrictions on debate by appealing to expertise, public safety or social responsibility. Critics may be labelled irresponsible, misinformed or dangerous.
In the short term, such approaches can be effective. In the long term, they often produce the opposite effect.
When citizens conclude that information is being managed rather than openly discussed, trust begins to erode. And once lost, trust is difficult to restore.
The European Union and the Democratic Deficit
Perhaps the most significant example of managerial governance in the contemporary West is the European Union itself.
The European project was born from understandable ambitions. After two devastating world wars, its architects sought to create institutions capable of promoting peace, economic integration and political cooperation across the continent. Yet in pursuing those goals, they also created a system in which significant decision-making authority became increasingly separated from direct electoral accountability.
The European Union possesses many of the characteristics associated with managerial governance. Policy is shaped through a complex network of commissions, courts, regulatory bodies, treaties and administrative institutions operating above the level of individual nation states. While democratic mechanisms exist, they are often indirect, diffuse and difficult for ordinary citizens to influence.
The further decision-making moves from the electorate, the greater the reliance on expertise, procedure and institutional legitimacy rather than direct democratic consent. In this sense, the European Union embodies many of the characteristics of a managerial system: authority derives less from direct electoral accountability and more from institutional competence, regulatory expertise and administrative continuity.
Critics have long described this as a democratic deficit. Supporters argue that modern Europe requires sophisticated institutions capable of managing complex transnational challenges. Critics counter that such institutions frequently operate beyond meaningful public scrutiny and can prove resistant to democratic pressure.
The structure of the European Commission itself illustrates the dilemma. The President of the Commission exercises considerable influence over the direction of the European Union, yet the position is not filled through a direct vote of European citizens.
Critics therefore regard it as somewhat ironic when European institutions lecture member states about democratic accountability while key positions within those same institutions remain significantly insulated from direct electoral control.
Supporters view this arrangement as a necessary safeguard against nationalism, populism and short-term political pressures. Critics view it as evidence of a broader managerial philosophy in which expertise and administration are increasingly placed above democratic sovereignty.
Whatever one’s position, the European experience demonstrates the central constitutional question of our age. Should important political decisions ultimately be made by institutions that are closest to the electorate, or by institutions that are furthest from it but claim greater expertise and stability?
The European Union may represent the most advanced attempt yet to answer that question in favour of administration over representation. Whether that model proves sustainable remains one of the defining political debates of the twenty-first century.
COVID and the Expansion of Administrative Authority
The COVID period accelerated many existing trends. Public health officials acquired unprecedented influence over daily life. Lockdowns, travel restrictions, vaccine mandates, border closures and business regulations were frequently implemented through administrative mechanisms rather than ordinary legislative processes.
Many of these decisions may have been justified by extraordinary circumstances. Yet that is not the central issue. The more important question is what precedent was established. Across much of the Western world, unelected officials, claiming authority through expertise and emergency necessity, exercised powers that profoundly affected millions of lives. Parliamentary scrutiny often occurred after decisions had already been made, leaving elected representatives in the position of ratifying rather than directing policy.
The pandemic demonstrated the capacity of modern administrative systems to govern directly during periods of crisis. It also revealed the extent to which governments, public institutions, media organisations and technology platforms could align around common messaging in pursuit of public compliance. Whether such coordination was necessary or excessive remains contested, but its existence was undeniable.
For supporters, these measures represented effective crisis management. For critics, they exposed the growing power of a managerial system capable of exercising extraordinary authority while operating at considerable distance from normal democratic processes. In either case, the experience altered public perceptions of government.
Many citizens emerged from the period with diminished trust in institutions. Once lost, trust is difficult to restore. The political, cultural and constitutional consequences of that loss are still unfolding.
Brexit and the Democratic Mandate
Brexit provides another revealing case study. In 2016, British voters delivered a clear instruction to leave the European Union. Yet implementation became a prolonged struggle involving courts, bureaucracies, regulatory institutions and political actors seeking to shape, delay or constrain the process.
Supporters of Brexit frequently argued that establishment institutions were resisting the electorate’s decision. Opponents argued they were defending constitutional norms and protecting the national interest. Regardless of one’s position, the episode exposed a growing tension between democratic mandates and institutional continuity.
The public voted. The system hesitated. Years of political conflict followed as competing institutions sought to interpret, influence and ultimately implement the referendum result. For many voters, the episode reinforced a perception that democratic instructions had become increasingly difficult to translate into policy when they conflicted with the preferences of powerful institutions.
For many Brexit supporters, the referendum was not merely about economics, immigration or trade. It was fundamentally a question of sovereignty: who should govern Britain? The debate exposed a deeper constitutional tension between democratic self-government and an increasingly complex network of supranational institutions, regulatory frameworks and administrative bodies operating beyond the direct reach of national electorates.
That gap between electoral instruction and institutional response has become a recurring feature of politics throughout much of the Western world.
Canada and Administrative Power
The Canadian trucker protests highlighted a related issue. The protests themselves divided public opinion. Some viewed them as a legitimate expression of democratic dissent, while others regarded them as disruptive and irresponsible. Yet what attracted international attention was ultimately the state’s response.
Financial restrictions, emergency powers and administrative measures demonstrated how modern governments can exert influence through mechanisms far removed from traditional policing. Rather than relying solely upon the criminal law, contemporary states increasingly possess the capacity to regulate behaviour through financial systems, regulatory powers and administrative authority.
For critics, the episode illustrated how administrative power can be used to discipline dissent without relying upon overt repression. Supporters argued that extraordinary measures were necessary to restore public order. Regardless of one’s position, the episode demonstrated how powerful modern administrative systems have become.
The appearance of overreach mattered as much as the reality. Democracies depend not merely upon the existence of lawful opposition, but upon citizens believing that legitimate opposition remains possible. When significant sections of the public conclude that dissent may result in financial, professional or administrative penalties, trust in democratic institutions can begin to erode.
Courts and the Question of Sovereignty
The role of courts deserves careful consideration. Independent courts are essential to liberal democracy. They protect citizens from arbitrary government and uphold constitutional principles. Yet judicial independence is not the same as judicial supremacy.
Across much of the Western world, courts increasingly play a central role in resolving political disputes. Questions once settled through democratic contest are transferred into legal forums.
This trend creates a constitutional dilemma. Judges are appointed rather than elected. They cannot easily be removed by voters. When courts become major participants in policy formation, democratic accountability weakens.
Australia has not been immune to these tensions. In Love v Commonwealth, the High Court determined that Aboriginal Australians could not be classified as aliens under the Constitution, even where they were not Australian citizens. Supporters regarded the decision as recognition of a unique constitutional relationship between Indigenous peoples and the Australian nation. Critics argued that the Court had effectively created a new constitutional category not explicitly contained within the constitutional text itself. Whatever one’s view of the outcome, the case demonstrated the capacity of judicial decisions to shape questions of identity, citizenship and sovereignty that have traditionally been regarded as matters for democratic politics.
The Roundheads confronted a similar question in a different context.
Should ultimate authority reside in institutions beyond public control, or should sovereignty rest with representatives accountable to the people? The modern equivalent is not Crown versus Parliament. It is Court versus Parliament.
A democratic system must ensure that judges remain guardians of constitutional process rather than primary architects of political direction.
The Media and the New Establishment
Many citizens increasingly view major media organisations as participants within the same managerial ecosystem as government agencies, universities, NGOs and regulatory bodies.
Again, conspiracy is unnecessary. Journalists, academics, bureaucrats and policymakers frequently share educational backgrounds, professional networks and cultural assumptions. They often consume the same information sources, attend the same institutions and operate within similar professional environments. As a result, certain perspectives become dominant while others are marginalised.
The effect is not censorship in the traditional sense, but a narrowing of acceptable debate. Public opinion may diverge significantly from elite opinion, yet institutional narratives often remain remarkably consistent. Questions are framed in similar ways, the same experts appear across multiple platforms and dissenting viewpoints frequently struggle to gain legitimacy.
Immigration policy provides a useful illustration. Across much of the Western world, public concern regarding migration levels, housing affordability, infrastructure pressures, labour market impacts and social cohesion has become increasingly visible. Yet institutional opinion across government departments, business organisations, universities, NGOs and major media outlets has often remained broadly supportive of continued high migration. Whatever one’s view of immigration itself, the persistence of this gap between public sentiment and institutional consensus has become a defining feature of contemporary democratic politics.
This contributes to a growing perception that important public debates are being managed rather than conducted openly, further eroding trust in both media and government.
Parliament versus Administration
The central political conflict of the coming decades may not be Left versus Right.
It may be Parliament versus Administration.
The question is not whether expertise matters. It does. Modern societies are complex and require specialised knowledge. The question is whether expertise should advise government or ultimately govern in its place.
The managerial state tends to view democratic politics as unpredictable, emotional and inefficient. Administrative governance appears more rational, evidence-based and stable. From this perspective, elections are necessary but imperfect mechanisms through which public preferences are expressed. The role of experts is to moderate, guide and sometimes restrain those preferences when they conflict with what institutions regard as sound policy.
Many within the managerial class genuinely believe they are acting in the public interest. They do not see themselves as opponents of democracy. Rather, they often view themselves as custodians of good governance, protecting society from populism, misinformation, short-term thinking and the passions of the moment. In this worldview, public opinion is respected but not always trusted.
This belief has deep intellectual roots. Throughout modern history, various political movements have imagined a leading role for intellectuals, experts and enlightened administrators in guiding society towards better outcomes. The contemporary managerial state represents a technocratic rather than revolutionary version of the same impulse: the belief that those possessing specialised knowledge are better equipped to make important decisions than the broader public.
Yet democracy is intentionally messy. Its purpose is not efficiency. Its purpose is accountability.
The citizen’s right to remove those who govern is the foundation of democratic legitimacy. A system in which experts can permanently override public preferences may be efficient, but it ceases to be fully democratic. When the ability of citizens to influence outcomes weakens, political frustration accumulates and institutional trust begins to erode.
The challenge for modern democracies is therefore not to reject expertise, but to restore the proper relationship between expertise and sovereignty. Experts should inform democratic decision-making. They should not replace it.
Towards a New Roundhead Settlement
The solution is neither authoritarianism nor revolution in the traditional sense. It is a constitutional rebalancing.
A parliamentary revolution.
The original Roundheads sought to subordinate royal authority to representative government. A modern parliamentary revolution would seek to subordinate managerial authority to democratic government. Its objective would not be to weaken institutions, but to restore a clear hierarchy of legitimacy in which all institutions ultimately derive their authority from the sovereign people acting through Parliament.
Its objective would be straightforward. No institution should possess greater political authority than representatives directly elected by the people. Courts would remain independent. Bureaucracies would remain professional. Regulators would continue performing necessary functions.
But all would operate within a framework where Parliament remains the ultimate expression of popular sovereignty.
A simple democratic principle should apply: those who exercise significant public power should ultimately be accountable, either directly or indirectly, to the electorate.
Possible reforms could include:
- Constitutional recognition of the primacy of Parliament
- Explicit freedom of speech provisions within the constitution
- Fixed terms for senior judges.
- Parliamentary override mechanisms in exceptional circumstances.
- Stronger parliamentary control over delegated legislation.
- Mandatory sunset clauses for emergency powers.
- Enhanced parliamentary scrutiny of regulators and agencies.
- Regular parliamentary review of quasi-government bodies, commissions and statutory authorities, with automatic sunset provisions unless renewed by Parliament.
- Greater transparency requirements for publicly funded advocacy organisations.
- Confirmation hearings for senior bureaucratic appointments.
- Parliamentary oversight of judicial practice and policies
- Expanded protections for whistleblowers.
- Regular reviews of administrative powers and authorities.
These reforms would not weaken democracy. They would strengthen it.
The objective is not to diminish expertise, judicial independence or professional administration. Modern societies require all three. The objective is to restore the principle that expertise advises, administration implements and courts interpret, while elected representatives decide.
Conclusion
The great constitutional struggle of the seventeenth century concerned the relationship between Crown and Parliament.
The great constitutional struggle of the twenty-first century concerns the relationship between Parliament and the managerial state.
Power has not been seized through coups or conspiracies. It has migrated gradually through institutions, procedures, regulations, judicial decisions and administrative expansion. Often this occurred with good intentions. Many of the individuals involved genuinely believed they were acting in the public interest, protecting society from instability, misinformation or poor decision-making.
Yet democratic consequences remain democratic consequences.
Citizens increasingly sense that elections alone are no longer sufficient to influence public outcomes. Whether that perception is entirely accurate is ultimately less important than the fact that it is becoming widespread. Across much of the Western world, trust in political institutions, media organisations, governments and public authorities continues to decline.
If democratic societies are to restore that trust, they must restore democratic accountability.
The objective is not to destroy institutions, nor to diminish expertise, judicial independence or professional administration. Modern societies require all three. The objective is to place those institutions back within a clear hierarchy of democratic legitimacy, where expertise advises, administration implements and courts interpret, while elected representatives decide.
The principle that emerged from the Roundhead settlement remains relevant today. No institution should exercise significant political authority without ultimately being accountable to the sovereign people.
In a democracy, ultimate political authority should reside not with kings, judges, bureaucrats or experts.
It should reside with the people acting through Parliament.
The great achievement of the seventeenth-century parliamentary revolution was to establish that kings should govern only with the consent of the governed. The challenge of the twenty-first century is to ensure that bureaucracies, regulators, courts and managerial institutions remain subject to that same principle.
The debate is no longer whether kings should rule without Parliament. It is whether experts should rule beyond Parliament.
The names have changed.
The constitutional question has not.
Who governs?
