But where we differ is on the role of referendums. I do not see referendums as inherently democratic; their scope must be strictly limited. Using referendums to decide day-to-day policy (Brexit being the obvious case) is dangerous, because it allows short-term passion and financial influence to reshape a country’s direction. By contrast, referendums that are narrowly restricted to constitutional amendments carry a different weight and legitimacy.
This is why I emphasize that the “upper triad” (constitutional state, symbolic sovereign, and referendum) must remain separate from the “lower triad” (executive, legislature, judiciary). When they couple vertically, the results are destructive: a monarch deciding executive affairs becomes dictatorship, while referendums deciding legislative matters become tyranny of the majority. Only when the two dimensions are kept apart does democracy gain true resilience.
As for the United States: yes, the Supreme Court has historically played a quasi-sovereign role. But unlike the common view, I would argue its credibility has come from greater restraint—speaking only on the most fundamental constitutional questions, not by becoming more entangled in daily legislative and administrative disputes. The increased politicization since Citizens United shows how quickly resilience erodes once the symbolic anchor is dragged into ordinary partisan combat.
Civil society and media absolutely matter. But they are always active participants in daily contestation. What my model requires is at least one symbolic institution that stands above politics—its authority latent, not constant. That distinction is crucial for long-term stability.
The same reasoning applies to political figures. Even someone like Trump should certainly be allowed to explore different executive strategies. But the system must never allow him—or anyone else—to undermine state sovereignty, trigger populist plebiscites on ordinary policy, or erode the separation of powers. Flexibility in policy and rupture in constitutional order must remain categorically distinct.
I do not deny the corrosive influence of money and media platforms. On the contrary, that is my starting point. My point is simply this: because we cannot fully control these forces, democracy must be designed with either sufficient redundancy, or strong institutional anchors—and ideally both—while still allowing individuals in society to voice diverse perspectives. Without such architecture, democracies that look stable in calm times will appear dangerously fragile when the storm comes.
And for ordinary citizens, if dark money and social media manipulation become a systemic cancer, resilience still exists in layers. At the shallowest level, you can “vote with your feet” by moving to a clearer state environment. Deeper, you can keep appealing to the Supreme Court as a constitutional guardian. At the state level, you still defend your values with one person one vote. And at the very last resort, the people themselves remain the ultimate guarantor that democracy cannot be permanently hijacked.
