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Man behind viral "democracy manifest" arrest dies

<p>Jack Karlson, the man behind one of Australia's most famous viral memes, has died aged 82. </p> <p>Karlson shot to fame after footage of his 1991 arrest outside the China Sea Restaurant in Brisbane went viral in 2009 when someone uploaded it to the internet. </p> <p>"Gentlemen, this is democracy manifest," he said during the arrest. </p> <p>"What is the charge? Eating a meal - a succulent Chinese meal?"</p> <p>"Have a look at the headlock here. See that chap over there?" he went on.</p> <p>"Get your hand off my penis! This is the bloke who got me on the penis before."</p> <p>Reports at the time suggested that Karlson had been arrested on suspicion of being criminal that was high on Queensland police's wanted list. </p> <p>While he did have a criminal history himself as he was known for several prison escapes throughout his life, he insisted that he was the wrong man. </p> <p>The reporter who reported Karlson's arrest 33 years ago, Chris Reason, confirmed Karlson's death in a social media post on X, tweeting that "Mr Democracy Manifest has died".</p> <p>A fundraiser had been set up for Karlson by his niece in June after he was reportedly diagnosed with prostate cancer and needed surgery for cataracts. </p> <p>“I know Jack’s video has given a lot of people joy and he has inspired many memes, t-shirts and other things over the years but Jack himself is doing it quite tough,” his niece wrote on the fundraiser at the time. </p> <p>“He has never had much money but has always been generous to family and friends. He lives week to week in regional QLD with the help of a voluntary carer.</p> <p>“Hoping people can dig deep – I think he’s worth at least a beer, maybe even a 6-pack.”</p> <p>In an update last week, his niece said that he wasn't doing well. </p> <p>“He has been in Hospital for two weeks now,” she wrote.</p> <p>“He has had multiple procedures but things are not looking good.</p> <p>“One thing that did lift his spirits was that the GoFundMe was taking off. He has been really appreciative of the donations and the comments.”</p> <p>A documentary about his life is currently in production and set to be released in early 2025. </p> <p><em>Images: 7News</em></p> <p> </p>

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Compulsory voting in Australia is 100 years old. We should celebrate how special it makes our democracy

<div class="theconversation-article-body"><em><a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/paul-strangio-1232">Paul Strangio</a>, <a href="https://theconversation.com/institutions/monash-university-1065">Monash University</a></em></p> <p>For nearly 200 years, the notion of American political exceptionalism has had currency in the United States: it is an idea rooted in the nation’s status as the first modern republic. As we watch from afar, disturbed yet mesmerised by the latest chapter of violent political division in America, the country seems less a paragon than a symbol of democratic pathology.</p> <p>America’s certainty in its political uniqueness is symptomatic of a brash national chauvinism. By way of contrast, Australia is prone, if anything, to undue bashfulness about its democratic credentials. How else can we explain that this month marks the centenary of the most extraordinary feature of the country’s democratic architecture, and yet the anniversary is slipping by with neither comment nor reflection. I refer to compulsory voting, which was legislated in the federal parliament in July 1924.</p> <p>Compulsory voting is not unique to Australia. Calculating how many countries abide by the practice is notoriously difficult, since in around half the nations where compulsory voting exists in name it is not enforced. Most estimates, however, put the figure in the vicinity of 20 to 30.</p> <p>If not unique, Australia’s experience of compulsory voting is highly distinctive for a number of reasons.</p> <p>First, its emergence in the early 20th century was consistent with the nation’s larger tradition of innovation and experimentation when it came to electoral institutions and practices. This record is typically traced back to the pioneering in the 1850s of the secret ballot (sometimes called the “Australian ballot”) in a number of the Australian colonies and the embrace of other advanced democratic measures in the second half of the 19th century.</p> <p>These included manhood suffrage, payment of MPs and the extension of the franchise to women, beginning in South Australia in 1894. The innovations continued in the 20th century with such things as preferential voting and non-partisan bureaucratic electoral administration.</p> <p>Second, Australia is alone in embracing compulsory voting among the Anglophone democracies to which it typically compares itself. The electoral systems of Britain, Canada, New Zealand and the United States are all based on voluntary voting.</p> <p>Third, unlike many other compulsory voting countries, Australia does not pay lip service to its operation. Electoral authorities enforce compulsory voting, albeit leniently. It has been strongly upheld by the courts and is backed by a regime of sanctions for non-compliance.</p> <p>Fourth, compulsory voting has been consistently and unambiguously successful in achieving high voter turnout. Though there has been a slight downward trend in turnout at the past five national elections (it hit a low of 90.5% in 2022), it has not fallen below 90% since the adoption of compulsory voting a century ago.</p> <p>This is around 30% higher than the recent average turnout in countries with voluntary voting. It is also well above the recent average in countries with compulsory voting systems.</p> <p>Fifth, the public has strongly and consistently backed the practice. Evidence from more than half a century of opinion polls and election study surveys shows support hovering around the 70% mark.</p> <h2>An impregnable practice</h2> <p>Perhaps the most singular aspect of the nation’s experience of compulsory voting, however, is how seemingly impregnable is the practice if measured by its durability, the dearth of controversy over it, the consistency of its enforcement by authorities and the way citizens have dutifully complied with and supported it. Together these things make Australia an exemplar of compulsory voting internationally.</p> <p>This is not to say compulsory voting has been a sacred cow in Australia. In the final decades of the 20th century and first decade of this century, there was a concerted push to end the practice emanating principally from within the Liberal Party.</p> <p>The torchbearer of the agitation for voluntary voting was the avowed libertarian South Australian senator, Nick Minchin. <a href="https://classic.austlii.edu.au/au/journals/SGSocUphAUCon/2003/11.html">For Minchin</a>, compulsory voting was anathema:</p> <blockquote> <p>[…] in relation to the most important single manifestation of democratic will, the act of voting, I profoundly detest Australia’s denial of individual choice. It seems to me that an essential part of a liberal democracy should be the citizen’s legal right to decide whether or not to vote. The denial of that right is an affront to democracy.</p> </blockquote> <p>Minchin had a number of like-minded supporters of voluntary voting in the Liberal Party. Among them, importantly, was John Howard, whose prime ministership coincided with the mobilisation to abolish compulsory voting.</p> <p>Howard had been on record as an opponent of the practice since his entry to the federal parliament in 1974. The Liberal Party campaign against compulsory voting manifested in, among other things:</p> <ul> <li>the party’s federal council resolving in favour of voluntary voting</li> <li>shadow cabinet endorsing a recommendation for a change of policy to voluntary voting being placed before the joint Liberal-National party parliamentary room</li> <li>the introduction in the South Australian parliament of two bills to repeal compulsory voting by successive Liberal state governments</li> <li>Coalition members of the Joint Standing Committee on Electoral Matters repeatedly recommending the abolition of the practice.</li> </ul> <p>In the end, these agitations achieved nought. The most fundamental reason was that the opponents of compulsory voting failed to generate community resentment towards the system. Howard, while restating his preference for voluntary voting, admitted as much in 2005 when shutting down debate on the issue in his government:</p> <blockquote> <p>As I move around the country, I don’t get people stopping me in the street and saying, “You’ve got to get rid of compulsory voting.”</p> </blockquote> <p>Indeed, election survey data suggests the Liberal campaign coincided with a firming of public support for compulsory voting. In the two decades since, opposition has been dormant. For the foreseeable future, Australia’s compulsory voting regime is secure.</p> <h2>An Australian democratic exceptionalism?</h2> <p>As noted above, compulsory voting has kept voter turnout at elections above 90% for the past century. Kindred democracies marvel at, and envy, this level of participation. It affords legitimacy to election outcomes in this country. Significantly, it also produces a socially even turnout.</p> <p>Compare this to the situation in this month’s United Kingdom election. Turnout <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/politics/article/2024/jul/12/lowest-turnout-in-uk-general-election-since-universal-suffrage-report-shows">is estimated</a> to have slumped to a record low 52%. There was a clear pattern of the “haves” exercising much greater say at the ballot box than the “have nots”. Those who stayed away from the polls were predominantly less well-off, non-homeowners, the young, the lower-educated and of minority ethnic background.</p> <p>Australia cannot be complacent in this regard. Low and declining turnout in remote electorates with high Indigenous populations is the most worrying chink in the performance of compulsory voting. In 2022, turnout in the Northern Territory seat of Lingiari fell to 66.8%. Even so, the practice largely succeeds in achieving inclusive voter participation across the country.</p> <p>Crucially, compulsory voting is also recognised as one reason the political centre holds better in Australia than in many comparable nations. It exercises a moderating influence because it ensures it is not only impassioned partisans at either end of the political spectrum who participate in elections. This in turn means they are not the chief focus of governments and political parties.</p> <p>Under a compulsory voting system, middle-of-the-road citizens and their concerns and sensibilities count. This inhibits the trend towards polarisation and grievance politics evident in other parts of the globe. It helps explain why Australia has been less receptive to the aggressive conservative populism that has taken root in the United States and Europe.</p> <p>Compulsory voting also goes hand in hand with other institutional bulwarks of the nation’s democracy. While there is plenty of evidence in Australia of increasing disaffection with politics, one thing that helps bolster faith in the democratic system is the politically independent national electoral authority, the Australian Electoral Commission.</p> <p>The AEC’s trusted impartial administration of the electoral system lends integrity to the democratic process. So do the many procedures it manages to facilitate voting. To name a few: Saturday election days, assistance for the ill, aged and those from non-English-speaking backgrounds, mobile polling stations, postal, absentee and early voting, and active and regular updating of registration.</p> <p>Indeed, Australia has been described as “the most voter-friendly country in the world”. Compulsory voting encourages this accessibility: if citizens are obliged to vote, then it becomes incumbent to smooth the path to them participating. The ease of voting in Australia contrasts with what goes on elsewhere, for example, the rampant state-based voter-suppression practices in the United States.</p> <p>Dare we suggest, then, that compulsory voting is a mainstay of an Australian democratic exceptionalism? That we little note, let alone extol, the practice is perhaps not only a product of an inherent national modesty but because it is second nature after 100 years. Habituated to being compelled to participate in elections, we are inured to its specialness.</p> <p>Let’s hope this casual familiarity does not induce apathy rather than vigilance when next the system is challenged.<!-- Below is The Conversation's page counter tag. Please DO NOT REMOVE. --><img style="border: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; margin: 0 !important; max-height: 1px !important; max-width: 1px !important; min-height: 1px !important; min-width: 1px !important; opacity: 0 !important; outline: none !important; padding: 0 !important;" src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/234801/count.gif?distributor=republish-lightbox-basic" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" /><!-- End of code. If you don't see any code above, please get new code from the Advanced tab after you click the republish button. The page counter does not collect any personal data. More info: https://theconversation.com/republishing-guidelines --></p> <p><a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/paul-strangio-1232"><em>Paul Strangio</em></a><em>, Emeritus Professor of Politics, <a href="https://theconversation.com/institutions/monash-university-1065">Monash University</a></em></p> <p><em>Image credits: Shutterstock </em></p> <p><em>This article is republished from <a href="https://theconversation.com">The Conversation</a> under a Creative Commons license. Read the <a href="https://theconversation.com/compulsory-voting-in-australia-is-100-years-old-we-should-celebrate-how-special-it-makes-our-democracy-234801">original article</a>.</em></p> </div>

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How will Meta’s refusal to pay for news affect Australian journalism – and our democracy?

<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/peter-greste-616885">Peter Greste</a>, <em><a href="https://theconversation.com/institutions/macquarie-university-1174">Macquarie University</a></em></p> <p>When we speak of media freedom, we generally mean it in terms of freedom <em>from</em> unnecessary legal restrictions, so journalists and their sources are not threatened with prosecution for exposing the misdeeds of governments.</p> <p>But the announcement by Meta (Facebook’s parent company) on March 1 that it will <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2024-03-01/meta-won-t-renew-deal-with-australian-news-media/103533874">stop paying for Australian news content</a> poses a different kind of threat to media freedom.</p> <p>The most progressive <a href="https://theconversation.com/a-push-to-make-social-media-companies-liable-in-defamation-is-great-for-newspapers-and-lawyers-but-not-you-127513">media freedom laws</a> in the world are meaningless if news companies can’t afford to hire experienced journalists to run expensive investigations. It doesn’t matter how free the laws are if there are no journalists to do the reporting.</p> <p>A <a href="https://link.springer.com/chapter/10.1007/978-3-030-37265-1_4">key part of any successful democracy</a> is a free media, capable of interrogating the powerful and holding governments to account. Even in a world overflowing with digital content, we recognise the need for good journalism, produced to ethical and professional standards, to help inform public debate and good policy-making.</p> <h2>It was always going to fall apart</h2> <p>Three years ago, in 2021, under <a href="https://www.accc.gov.au/by-industry/digital-platforms-and-services/news-media-bargaining-code/news-media-bargaining-code">the News Media Bargaining Code</a>, the government forced Meta and Google to negotiate with news organisations and pay for the right to access and post their stories.</p> <p>The government introduced the code after <a href="https://www.aljazeera.com/economy/2024/3/1/facebook-owner-meta-to-end-deals-funding-news-in-australia-germany-france">Facebook and Google were accused of putting news content on their platforms</a>, while denying news organisations the advertising revenues that used to pay for journalism.</p> <p>Although we don’t know exactly who gets paid what, it is estimated that the two digital giants injected <a href="https://www.smh.com.au/politics/federal/1b-for-journalism-at-risk-in-new-warning-over-google-facebook-20240223-p5f78j.html">about $250 million a year</a> into Australian journalism.</p> <p>It wasn’t enough to end the crisis in news caused by the collapse of the old business models, but it <a href="https://www.aph.gov.au/Parliamentary_Business/Committees/House/Communications/Regionalnewspapers/Report/Section?id=committees%2Freportrep%2F024888%2F79305">helped prop up</a> a lot of struggling companies. In some cases, it helped pay for otherwise unprofitable forms of journalism.</p> <p>One of the big problems with the code was that it pushed media companies into inherently unstable and unpredictable deals with commercial behemoths, whose only interest in news was as a commodity to help drive profits. It was always going to fall apart, if and when news became too expensive and Facebook users became disinterested.</p> <p>It is hard to criticise Meta for deciding the deals weren’t worth it. The company is doing what it is supposed to, making hardheaded commercial decisions and maximising shareholder returns. But Meta’s interests are not the same as the Australian public’s.</p> <p>Or more accurately, Meta’s interests are not the same as our democracy’s. Meta doesn’t need high-quality news, particularly if its users are more interested in sharing family photos than sober reporting on inflation rates. But collectively, our society does need it.</p> <p>High-quality news is expensive. It doesn’t cost much to send someone to report on <a href="https://theconversation.com/why-are-taylor-swift-tickets-so-hard-to-get-the-economics-are-complicated-208567">Taylor Swift’s</a> Melbourne concert, but it is hugely expensive to cover <a href="https://theconversation.com/other-nations-are-applying-sanctions-and-going-to-court-over-gaza-should-nz-join-them-224132">the war in Gaza</a> or investigate allegations of government corruption.</p> <p>I suspect not that many Australians have read Adele Ferguson’s reporting about the <a href="https://www.smh.com.au/business/workplace/adele-ferguson-on-the-cost-of-whistleblowing-and-need-for-a-bank-royal-commission-20160505-gomxc4.html">corrupt practices of our biggest banks</a>. Her investigations took years of work, and cost far more than the Sydney Morning Herald would have recovered in subscriptions and advertising revenue for her stories.</p> <p>But her reporting triggered the <a href="https://www.royalcommission.gov.au/banking">Banking Royal Commission</a> and a suite of reforms that benefit everyone with a bank account.</p> <h2>A news levy?</h2> <p>If we accept that news is a public good, not something we can treat as a product to be traded like soap, then we have to develop economic models that somehow get the public to pay for it. It could be something like a levy – similar to Medicare’s – that recognises even if we don’t all consume news equally, we are collectively better off by having good journalism that’s free from commercial or political pressure.</p> <p>It is a difficult conversation to have, particularly when most Australians say <a href="https://www.edelman.com.au/trust/2023/trust-barometer">they don’t trust the media</a>, and more and more of us are <a href="https://www.canberra.edu.au/uc-alumni-canvas/canvas-articles/posts/news-blues-over-half-of-australians-avoid-the-news">giving up on news altogether</a>.</p> <p>And that brings us to the other truth this crisis has exposed: our consumption of media <a href="https://www.canberra.edu.au/about-uc/media/newsroom/2023/june/digital-news-report-australia-2023-tiktok-and-instagram-increase-in-popularity-for-news-consumption,-but-australians-dont-trust-algorithms">has changed irreversibly</a>. Fewer and fewer people are reading long news stories or wading through heavy TV bulletins. Now, short-form videos on TikTok, YouTube and Facebook are dominant. The news industry needs to meet audiences where they are, and accept that the ways of presenting news must also radically change.</p> <figure><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/3RW1U9Q-lzw?wmode=transparent&amp;start=0" width="440" height="260" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen"></iframe><figcaption><span class="caption">Our ways of consuming the news have changed, with short-form videos now dominant.</span></figcaption></figure> <p>This is not to suggest all journalism should henceforth be presented as TikTok videos. But forcing digital giants to prop up analogue-era news companies cements a system that is no longer fit for purpose.</p> <p>By trying to make the big digital giants pay for content they ultimately profit from, the News Media Bargaining Code started with the right intention. But now that Meta has decided it is no longer worth it, we have a chance to radically rethink and redesign how we finance and deliver news – in a way that works for us all.</p> <p>Our democracy depends on it.<!-- Below is The Conversation's page counter tag. Please DO NOT REMOVE. --><img style="border: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; margin: 0 !important; max-height: 1px !important; max-width: 1px !important; min-height: 1px !important; min-width: 1px !important; opacity: 0 !important; outline: none !important; padding: 0 !important;" src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/224872/count.gif?distributor=republish-lightbox-basic" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" /><!-- End of code. If you don't see any code above, please get new code from the Advanced tab after you click the republish button. The page counter does not collect any personal data. More info: https://theconversation.com/republishing-guidelines --></p> <p><a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/peter-greste-616885">Peter Greste</a>, Professor of Journalism and Communications, <em><a href="https://theconversation.com/institutions/macquarie-university-1174">Macquarie University</a></em></p> <p>This article is republished from <a href="https://theconversation.com">The Conversation</a> under a Creative Commons license. Read the <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-will-metas-refusal-to-pay-for-news-affect-australian-journalism-and-our-democracy-224872">original article</a>.</p>

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Democracy spreads in waves – but shared cultural history might matter more than geography

<p>Recent events like the war in Ukraine, conflicts over Taiwan and the rise of authoritarian ideology have renewed interest in the foundations of modern democracy.</p> <p>They have raised questions about why some nations are more democratic than others, and how democratic institutions, freedoms and values are spread or lost.</p> <p>We tend to think of this variation in terms of geography – democratic Western Europe or autocratic Middle East.</p> <p>But in a <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/evolutionary-human-sciences/article/shared-cultural-ancestry-predicts-the-global-diffusion-of-democracy/90C7A170B924FC305DD66FF8853799FC" target="_blank" rel="noopener">new analysis of 220 years of political data</a>, we show that deep cultural connections between countries such as shared linguistic or religious ancestry matter more than geography.</p> <h2>Waves of democratisation</h2> <p>The emergence of modern democracy coincides with the rise of nation states in Europe at the beginning of the 19th century. Democracy spread across European nations and their colonies, over <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Third_Wave:_Democratization_in_the_Late_Twentieth_Century" target="_blank" rel="noopener">three waves</a>.</p> <p>The first wave lasted about a century, from 1828 to 1926, halting after the first world war. A second, rapid wave (1945-1962) followed the second world war and decolonisation.</p> <p>The third wave began in 1974 and continues today. It encompassed political transitions and new countries in Europe, Latin America and the Pacific.</p> <p>Each wave was followed by a period of reversals when nations turned to autocratic regimes, junta or fascism. Indeed, some researchers speculate we are heading into <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/13510347.2019.1582029" target="_blank" rel="noopener">another period of reversal</a>.</p> <h2>What drives modern democracy?</h2> <p>Scholars traditionally considered factors internal to a country – economic growth, rates of education or the natural environment – as the drivers of these waves. However, the geographic clustering of democracy and the wave-like pattern of expansion suggest the process may also involve a kind of contagion where democracy passes from one nation to another.</p> <p>One explanation for this is that democratic change spreads across borders, so that neighbouring countries end up with similar levels of democracy.</p> <p>Culture provides another explanation. Neighbouring countries tend to share a common cultural heritage, such as related languages or religions. This shapes national institutions, norms and values.</p> <p>In our research, we tested the idea that common cultural ancestry explains variation and change in democracy around the globe. We brought together 220 years of democracy data with information on the cultural relationships between nations. The cultural relationships we examined were based on languages and religious beliefs.</p> <p>For example, Portugal is linguistically closer to Spanish-speaking Argentina and Spain than to England and Germany (which speak Germanic languages). Likewise, Myanmar, a Theravada Buddhist country, is religiously closer to Mongolia (where Vajrayana Buddhism is predominant) than to Muslim Malaysia.</p> <h2>Culture is more important than geography</h2> <p>The democracy data we studied cover 269 modern and historical nations and three widely-used democracy indicators, measuring democratic and autocratic authority in governing institutions (<a href="https://www.systemicpeace.org/polityproject.html" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Polity 5</a>), electoral participation and competition (<a href="https://www.prio.org/data/20" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Vanhanen Index</a>) and individual rights and freedoms (<a href="https://freedomhouse.org/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Freedom House</a>).</p> <p>Across all three indicators of democracy, we found countries that share linguistic or religious ancestry tend to have more similar democracy scores. These shared cultural ties were better predictors of democracy than geography, especially during the third wave of democratisation.</p> <p>Knowing the democratic status of a country’s linguistic or religious relatives helps predict that country’s future level of democracy five, ten or even 20 years later.</p> <p>These effects were not just due to countries sharing a language (for example, the English-speaking world) or religion (such as the Sunni Islam majority countries). This suggests deeper cultural connections between countries are important.</p> <h2>What this means for the spread of democracy</h2> <p>These effects could be the result of a number of processes.</p> <p>One possibility is that countries directly inherited institutions along the same pathways they inherited cultural features like language. For instance, Aotearoa New Zealand and other Commonwealth countries inherited the British legal system along with the English language.</p> <p>Another possibility is that cultural similarities might make countries more likely to maintain ongoing social connections, including foreign relations, which then aid the spread of institutions. For example, the <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-the-arab-spring-changed-the-middle-east-and-north-africa-forever-161394" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Arab Spring</a> spread among a set of countries with common linguistic and religious heritage.</p> <p>A third possibility is that inherited cultural values could steer countries towards similar institutions. For example, <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s41562-019-0769-1" target="_blank" rel="noopener">in previous research</a> we found that tolerance of diversity (cosmopolitan values) promotes a shift to more democratic institutions, but the reverse is not true. Democratic institutions do not shift tolerance.</p> <p>Countries that have inherited cosmopolitan values as part of their shared cultural ancestry may be more likely to shift towards democracy. If this theory is correct, it calls into question the assumption that democratic institutions can endure without sustained efforts to promote the cultural values that support them. The US interventions in Afghanistan and Iraq may be tragic examples of this.</p> <p>Our findings indicate cultural history matters for understanding the spread of democracy around the globe. This does not mean culture is the only factor at play (our analyses still leave a lot of variation unexplained). Neither do our findings speak to a population’s ultimate potential to achieve democratic outcomes, but we see this as within the reach of all populations.</p> <p>This means those wishing to support democracy at home or abroad should take cultural barriers seriously. We cannot assume that institutions that work well in one cultural setting can be easily transplanted to another, very different setting, with different values, norms and traditions. We should pay more attention to culturally closely related countries that have succeeded at merging local norms and values with democratic institutions.</p> <p><strong>This article originally appeared on <a href="https://theconversation.com/democracy-spreads-in-waves-but-shared-cultural-history-might-matter-more-than-geography-189959" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Conversation</a>.</strong></p> <p><em>Image: Shutterstock</em></p>

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