The Messy Brilliance of Democracy: Where Disagreement Fuels Progress and Shared Interest Stands a Chance
By Arthur Kohn, Skytop Contributor / July 23, 2025
Arthur Kohn has practiced law since 1986, focusing on compensation and benefits matters, including executive compensation, pension compliance and investment, employment law, corporate governance and related matters. In 2012, he was named by the National Association of Corporate Directors’ Directorship magazine to the Directorship 100 list, which seeks to identify “the most influential people in the boardroom community, including directors, corporate governance experts, journalists, regulators, academics and counselors.” In 2021, he was appointed as a fellow to the American College of Governance Counselors.
Arthur is an adjunct professor at New York University School of Law, which he has taught the Taxation of Executive Compensation since 2009. He frequently speaks and writes about executive compensation, taxation and corporate governance matters. He repeatedly has been recognized for his work by the business and legal press, including Best Lawyers, Chambers USA, The Legal 500, Super Lawyers of New York and others.
Arthur received a B.A. from Columbia University and a J.D. from Columbia Law School, where he was admitted into the Accelerated Interdisciplinary Legal Education program, was appointed a Harlan Fiske Stone Scholar and received Phi Beta Kappa honors.
Why People Hold Certain Beliefs to Be True
In the 1970s, a quiet revolution reshaped economics. Some thinkers began to question the longstanding assumption that people make decisions rationally. From those doubts emerged behavioral economics, a field that explores how emotions, habits, and biases affect our choices—often in ways that defy classical logic. These insights have earned researchers Nobel Prizes and helped reframe economic policymaking.
The reality is simple yet profound: most people do not act in strictly logical ways most of the time. Our preferences shift. Our reasoning is influenced by mood, memory, and social cues. We rationalize rather than calculate. That is why the ultra-rational Spock from Star Trek continues to captivate audiences. He represents what humans are not.
Politics reflects this same irrationality. People vote from the gut, cling to identity-driven narratives, and interpret facts based on emotion. Understanding why people hold certain beliefs is not about moral judgment; it is about decoding the underlying motivations. And that is essential if we hope to navigate increasingly polarized terrain.
The Adversarial Legal System
The American legal system follows an adversarial model. In this setup, two parties—the prosecution and the defense—build competing cases, while a judge ensures that the rules are followed. The theory is that truth will surface through rigorous debate and procedural fairness.
In civil law countries, however, the inquisitorial model prevails. Judges investigate before trial, ask questions, and work to uncover the facts. The aim is not merely to mediate a dispute but to prevent miscarriages of justice by avoiding wrongful prosecutions altogether.
These differences shape the moral architecture of nations. The adversarial system encourages competition, skepticism, and presentation. The inquisitorial system relies on investigation, patience, and trust in institutions. Each reflects a deeper cultural rhythm, and both leave traces in how governments operate.
In the United States, where the legal system is adversarial but the legislature borrows inquisitorial elements, a hybrid form has evolved. The Senate, for example, was built not for combat but for deliberation. That is why it is often called “the world’s greatest deliberative body.” Though not immune to partisanship, it was designed to synthesize competing ideas rather than merely choose winners.
Political Culture, Public Expectations, and Competing Interests
Legal traditions do not end at the courthouse steps; they permeate our political culture. The adversarial instinct fuels electoral campaigns, ideological rivalry, and sharp distinctions between sides. The inquisitorial impulse fosters fact-finding, compromise, and efforts to build consensus around policy.
Americans expect both modes from their institutions: a spirited contest of ideas and an eventual convergence toward collective interest. They demand accountability but also hope for cooperation. That tension sits at the center of democracy.
Public expectations evolve alongside institutional behavior. As media becomes more polarized and congressional debates grow sharper, the public begins to see government more as a battleground than as a deliberative forum. Yet even amid this tension, the system retains vestiges of collaboration—evident in bipartisan initiatives, committee investigations, and moments of unexpected coalition.
Legal Traditions, Human Behavior, and Their Impact on American Politics
Behavioral economics teaches that people act according to internal logic that may be inconsistent or opaque. These choices—emotional, instinctive, or habitual—shape voting behavior, public discourse, and policy formation.
This matters because systems are built on assumptions about how people behave. The adversarial system presumes that parties will present their best case. The inquisitorial system presumes that institutions will pursue truth. Yet neither model works optimally if human irrationality goes unacknowledged.
In American politics, irrationality is visible in full force: single-issue voting, tribal loyalties, disregard for evidence, and sudden swings in opinion. These patterns frustrate analysts but make sense when viewed through the behavioral lens. People seek affirmation rather than contradiction; they follow feelings instead of flowcharts.
And the hybrid legal-political structure amplifies that complexity. Lawmakers must toggle between competitive instincts and conciliatory obligations. Governance is not just a process—it is a psychological experiment in reconciling emotion with structure.
The Managerial Class and the American Hybrid System
Over time, a highly educated group of professionals—sometimes called the managerial class—has taken on a prominent role in shaping U.S. policy. Their expertise spans economics, public health, international relations, and regulatory affairs. While often well-intentioned, their insulation from broader public sentiment has raised concerns.
Critics argue that this class makes decisions from a technocratic perspective, one that overlooks on-the-ground realities. Free trade policies, for instance, were supported by expert consensus but led to job losses in manufacturing-heavy regions. The benefits were dispersed, while the costs were concentrated.
In a hybrid system, such outcomes provoke backlash. Democratic institutions were designed to balance elite guidance with populist accountability. When expert decision-making feels divorced from lived experience, the result is distrust and political upheaval.
Restoring that balance requires better communication from experts and deeper engagement with diverse voices. Technical insight is valuable, but it must be tethered to collective interest rather than detached precision.
Just the Facts: Media, Litigation, and Selective Truths
Much has been said about misinformation, media bias, and fake news. But the adversarial structure itself explains much of the dysfunction. In litigation, each side is rewarded for presenting persuasive evidence, not the complete truth. Lawyers omit, exaggerate, or recast information to support their case. This is normal—even ethical—within adversarial boundaries.
Politics and media follow similar rules. Campaigns sell stories; news outlets highlight angles. Everyone curates reality. The result is not always dishonesty—it is narrative construction.
This matters for public trust. If truth is always partial, people begin choosing facts that affirm their identity. They do not seek reality; they seek reinforcement. Adversarial systems, by design, accommodate that impulse.
The solution may not be to eliminate competition but to better train audiences in evaluating competing narratives. Critical literacy is now a civic skillset.
Business Strategy in an Adversarial Landscape
If American governance continues trending toward more overt competition, businesses will need new playbooks. The cooperative, managerial-era assumptions—steady policy, technocratic alignment, cross-party access—no longer apply.
Companies may need to become more agile, publicly assertive, and politically explicit. Lobbying strategies will change; messaging will sharpen. Reputation management will require faster reaction times.
This shift mirrors sports or litigation. Success depends on decisiveness, not diplomacy. Risk tolerance grows; long-term planning shrinks. In such environments, clarity and resilience matter more than elegance.
Some firms will flourish, and others will struggle. But all must confront the new reality: when governance behaves like competition, neutrality is no longer a default position—it becomes a precarious bet.
Choosing Sides and Growing the Pie
In a hyper-adversarial setting, businesses face a dilemma. Should they engage politically? Pick a side? Risk backlash? Historically, neutrality was wise. Relationships could be maintained across parties, and influence was based on access—not allegiance.
Today, choosing not to choose may limit voice. Political actors increasingly expect alignment. Companies may be rewarded for support or punished for silence.
Yet this logic undermines broader goals. Economic growth, innovation, and inclusive progress depend on growing the pie, not fighting for a larger slice. When competition trumps collaboration, zero-sum thinking prevails.
Policies that benefit everyone—such as immigration reform, scientific funding, or long-term infrastructure investment—are difficult to frame in partisan terms. They require consensus, which is scarce when debate becomes war.
Business leaders, therefore, must navigate both economic risk and reputational complexity. The stakes are no longer merely financial; they are philosophical.
Cooperation: Lessons from Bretton Woods
In 1944, the world met at Bretton Woods to redefine international cooperation. Treasury Secretary Henry Morgenthau framed the moment with unusual clarity:
“Today the only enlightened form of national self-interest lies in international accord.”
He was not calling for idealism; he was calling for strategic unity. Nations, like individuals, prosper when they align their goals rather than isolate them.
That lesson matters more than ever. If politics becomes permanent competition, cooperation fades—and so do the shared structures that make progress possible.
In business, policy, and civil society, the ability to build coalitions and join hands across divides is not just desirable; it is essential.
Competition, Cooperation, and the Way Forward
The American system balances competition with collaboration. It borrows from legal traditions, behavioral insights, and democratic ideals. It was not built to be perfect, but it was built to be flexible.
As polarization rises and adversarial norms dominate, we must remember why these traditions exist. Competition sharpens ideas; cooperation builds solutions. Neither should eclipse the other.
For business strategists, political leaders, and everyday citizens, the path forward requires clarity about how systems work and humility about how people behave. Only then can we reclaim the messy brilliance of democracy—where disagreement fuels progress and shared interest still stands a chance.