When people think their political system violates the moral rules they live by, they lose faith in democracy. Some withdraw from politics. Others turn to anyone who promises to “clean things up.”
March 2026
In Canada, the United States, and much of Europe, overwhelming majorities condemn bribery, lying, and discrimination, even as they see such unethical practices fuel their politics. In Sweden, ministers have resigned for buying personal items with government credit cards, while in the United States barely one in five citizens say they trust the federal government to do what is right “most of the time.” Across Europe, citizens overwhelmingly reject corruption in principle, but seven in ten believe it is widespread in practice.
These contradictions reveal a deeper moral paradox of contemporary democracy: Even where institutions are strong and values appear shared, citizens perceive politics as operating by a lesser code. I call this ethical distance — the gap between citizens’ personal moral standards and the norms they believe govern public life. It is not a minor perception problem but a profound crisis of democratic legitimacy. When people think their political system violates the moral rules they live by, they lose faith not only in leaders but in democracy itself.
Drawing on surveys of more than six-thousand respondents in Canada and the United States, I find that this moral gap systematically undermines confidence in democratic institutions. Citizens who see a wide gulf between their own ethics and those of their society express far lower trust in elections and institutions and greater openness to leaders who promise to “clean up” politics, even if it means breaking democratic rules. Ethical distance thus fuels both cynicism and authoritarian temptation: Some withdraw from politics, while others turn to rule-breaking leaders who promise to restore virtue. Unless democracies confront this moral gap, no institutional reform will restore public trust in democratic institutions and the moral integrity of governance.
What Citizens Believe — And What They Think Others Believe
Across democracies, people broadly agree on central moral norms: Lying, bribery, political violence, and discrimination are wrong. In my surveys of Canada and the United States — and in publicly available World Values Survey data from countries such as Bangladesh, Poland, and South Korea — large majorities personally reject such practices. Yet when asked what most people in their society believe about these same issues, respondents paint a much darker picture, echoing patterns in Transparency International’s Global Corruption Barometer (GCB), which finds that citizens widely perceive unethical practices to be common even where they personally reject them. This distance between “what I believe” and “what I think society tolerates” is often stark . Such a gap suggests that democratic disillusionment is not just about unmet material expectations or ideological polarization but a sense of moral betrayal: Citizens believe that the community around them, and by extension its politics, violates the values they personally hold dear.
This “ethical distance” is not limited to fragile democracies. Even in the established democracies of Europe, the United States, and Canada — where institutions are stronger but under strain — citizens still perceive public life as operating by a lower moral code. In the European Union, overwhelming majorities say unethical acts are unacceptable — 71 percent consider it “never acceptable to do a favour to receive something from public administration or public services,” and “80 percent find giving money to get something from public administration or public services never acceptable.” Yet, at the same time, 69 percent of Europeans believe that corruption is widespread in their country, and 51 percent believe it is widespread among political parties.
A similar pattern appears in the United States. Despite broad rejection of unethical behavior in principle, public trust in the federal government has hovered near historic lows for more than a decade. As of May 2024, just 22 percent of Americans say they trust the government in Washington to do what is right “most of the time” or “just about always,” down from roughly three-quarters in the 1960s.
The same moral gap appears in less-advanced democracies. In India, the world’s largest democracy, Transparency International’s Global Corruption Barometer–Asia (2020) reports that 39 percent of public service users admit to paying a bribe when accessing basic services in the previous year, and 46 percent report relying on personal connections to access those services — despite overwhelming public condemnation of bribery and nepotism. In Bangladesh, another country surveyed by the GCB-Asia, large shares of citizens likewise believe corruption has increased and that accessing government services requires bribes or connections.
As these examples show, ethical distance is a universal challenge that can corrode democratic legitimacy wherever citizens believe politics violates the moral standards they hold dear — no matter how weak or strong the democracy.
Why Ethical Distance Erodes Democracy
Democracy rests not only on elections and procedures but on normative legitimacy — citizens’ conviction that the system is both effective and morally right. As Larry Diamond writes, democracy “is a morally and practically superior form of government.” When citizens cease to see political community as reflecting their own moral standards, that legitimacy begins to erode. My surveys show two patterns that are especially troubling:
Citizen disengagement. The greater the moral gap citizens see between their own views and those they think prevail in society, the more likely they are to say they will abstain from voting, civic action, or institutional participation, undercutting the participatory base that democratic systems require.
Tolerance for illiberal shortcuts. Respondents who believe their country’s political life is greatly at odds with their own moral views are far more willing to endorse a strong leader who “does not have to bother with the legislature or elections,” signaling a readiness to trade procedures for moral cleansing, a classic opening for authoritarian populists.
This pattern suggests a mechanism as well as a measurement: When people feel that politics violates their deepest moral commitments, they either withdraw from it or support actors who promise to smash the system. Most explanations of democratic backsliding focus on polarization or partisanship. Yet cross-national surveys and my own data show that ethical distance cuts across partisan lines: Conservatives and progressives alike grow disillusioned when they perceive politics as morally corrupt. This makes ethical distance both a uniting discontent and a destabilizing force — a hidden driver of democratic erosion that reformers ignore at their peril.
Three Ways to Close the Gap
Confronting ethical distance is not a peripheral task but a core democratic imperative, demanding bold, coordinated action on three mutually reinforcing fronts.
Make Oversight Real. Support for democracy weakens not only because of material grievances but also because citizens find a moral gulf separating their own values from those embodied in their society’s political order. When people feel that the rules of public life — both in government and in the wider civic sphere — reflect ethical standards different from their own, procedural reforms alone cannot sustain legitimacy. Independent oversight bodies, enforceable conflict-of-interest rules, and transparent lobbying and campaign finance directly address this perception by signaling that ethical norms apply equally to all. Canada’s Conflict of Interest and Ethics Commissioner and the U.S. system of Inspectors General illustrate how empowered watchdogs can reduce this sense of double standards and rebuild confidence. Yet both also reveal the limits of oversight when powers are weak, resources thin, or findings poorly communicated. Democracies must therefore go further — strengthening anticorruption commissions, giving ombudsmen binding authority, and commissioning and publishing regular, anonymized surveys on citizens’ ethical expectations and perceptions of integrity in public life — to bring institutional practice and public values back into alignment.
Rebuild Shared Norms. Surveys consistently find that citizens overestimate how unethical their peers are. These misperceptions breed cynicism and the assumption that “everyone else” behaves badly, widening the moral gap between citizens and their political system. Evidence-based civic education and inclusive public forums can correct these misperceptions, socialize citizens into shared democratic norms, and reduce feelings of isolation or alienation. Ireland’s Citizens’ Assemblies show how deliberation can recalibrate perceptions and legitimize reform. Governments, civil society, and media can build on such models with fact-checking initiatives, deliberative polling, and curriculum reforms that teach not only rights but also democratic responsibilities — helping citizens see their democracy, and one another, more accurately and fairly.
Lead by Example. Institutions and civic education can set rules and teach norms, but only visible ethical conduct by leaders can bring those norms to life and give democracy moral credibility. Citizens look to leaders and parties to embody the standards they claim to defend. When leaders articulate clear ethical commitments and live by them, they narrow the moral gap between citizens and their political system. Codes of conduct, public pledges, and visible self-enforcement signal integrity beyond partisan platforms and help to re-anchor politics in shared values. Sweden’s ministerial norms — under which ministers have resigned for relatively minor breaches — show how visible self-enforcement builds credibility. The United States offers its own illustration: After Watergate, Congress passed bipartisan ethics reforms, including the Inspector General Act and the Ethics in Government Act, to show that ethical rules would apply across party lines and rebuild public trust; more recently, the creation and continued reauthorization of the Office of Congressional Ethics demonstrates how such oversight can become a cross-party norm. These examples show that visible self-enforcement and bipartisan oversight are not utopian ideals but achievable practices that can narrow the moral gap. Their impact, however, depends on whether citizens see them as genuine and even-handed. When enforcement appears inconsistent or politicized, ethical distance can persist despite the presence of formal safeguards. Parties can reinforce these efforts by institutionalizing ethics committees, publishing compliance reports, and disciplining violators to demonstrate that ethical breaches have consequences.
Even where elections are free and governments deliver materially, citizens can still lose faith in democracy. Ethical distance reveals a form of democratic alienation no less corrosive than polarization or policy disagreement — a moral estrangement between citizens and their political institutions. That gap is neither inevitable nor immutable. It can be closed, but only if policymakers, civic leaders, and citizens alike recognize it as a central task of democratic renewal. As democracies confront populism, polarization, and backsliding, closing this moral gap may prove decisive for democracy’s survival.
Mujahed Islam is a SSHRC Postdoctoral Fellow in the Department of Government at Cornell University.
Copyright © 2026 National Endowment for Democracy
Image credit: JAMILLAH STA. ROSA/AFP via Getty Images
|
FURTHER READING |
||
The Road to Digital Unfreedom: Three Painful Truths About Social Media |
How to Prevent Political ViolenceRachel Kleinfeld and Nicole Bibbins Sedaca Political violence is rising in wealthy democracies. Polarized societies and bitter party politics are putting candidates and election officials in serious peril. Political leaders, more than anyone, have the power to stoke or stamp out this dangerous cycle of violence. |
The Rise of Multicultural NationalismSome liberals attribute the origins of our polarized political era to “identity politics.” But multiculturalism need not provoke majoritarian anxieties — not if national identities can open ways for all citizens to be recognized and heard. |