Why Do We Call Our Community a Members’ Party?

Because Politics Is Too Important to Be Left to Political Professionals

A sentence often attributed to Charles de Gaulle says that politics is too serious a matter to be left to politicians.

Whether the attribution is entirely certain or not, the thought itself is powerful. Indeed, it has become almost common sense. Many people would agree that politics is too important to be entrusted entirely to those who have made politics their profession.

And yet, in practice, this is exactly what we do.

For most citizens, political participation is largely reduced to voting at the ballot box every few years, occasionally signing a petition, perhaps forwarding an article, and then returning to private life with a familiar mixture of hope, frustration and resignation.

We want to change that.

In our first contribution in this series, “Why a Political Party at All?”, we argued that a party is not the mission, but the constitutional vehicle through which civic concern can become political consequence.

In our second contribution, “Why Did We Europeans Establish a German Party?”, we explained why a European political mission had to begin through a national legal door. Europeans for the Planet began as a German party not because Germany is enough, but because Germany is where the real institutional work could begin.

But once such a party exists, the next question is unavoidable:

Who gives this party its life?

Our answer is clear:

• Not the founders.
• Not the board.
• Not a charismatic leader.
• Not a professional political class.
  
  
• The members.

That is why we call our community a members’ party.

What: A party whose vitality comes from its members

Our strategic statement is this:

Europeans for the Planet is designed as a members’ party: a party whose vitality comes not from founders, chairpersons or charismatic saviours, but from politically responsible members committed to a shared programme.

This does not mean a party without leadership.

That would be naïve.

Every serious organisation needs roles, mandates, procedures, responsibility and decision-making capacity. A party that cannot decide cannot act. And a party that cannot act will remain a debating club, however noble its intentions.

So let us be precise:

A members’ party is not a party without leadership. It is a party in which leadership serves the members, the programme and the mission — not the other way round.

This distinction matters.

In ordinary party politics, members are often treated as decoration. They applaud, donate, distribute leaflets, attend meetings, legitimate decisions already taken elsewhere, and then disappear again into the background. The visible centre is occupied by personalities: founders, chairpersons, candidates, faction leaders, media figures, rising stars.

We want to invert this logic.

• The founders may have initiated the project, but they do not own it.
• The board may govern, but it must not dominate.
• The spokesperson may represent, but must not rule.
• Working groups may prepare, but must not become closed priesthoods.
• Members may deliberate and decide, but not merely follow moods, impulses or online waves.

The programme is the common point of reference.

The mission is the reason for the organisation.

The members are the living centre.

How: Distributed responsibility instead of personal rule

How should such a members’ party work?

First, by distributing roles.

A political party needs a board, but the board should not become the party. It needs founders, but the founders should not become the mythology. It needs public voices, but these voices should not be confused with ownership. It needs competence, but competence must remain accountable.

In the long run, the public face of the party need not be its founder or chairperson. It may well be a spokesperson — ideally a woman — whose task is not to embody the party personally, but to give voice to the programme and the members behind it.

This is not a cosmetic point.

It is a structural one.

If the chairperson, founder, chief strategist, public face and symbolic identity of the party all collapse into one person, the party becomes fragile. It becomes vulnerable to vanity, exhaustion, scandal, media over-personalisation and reputational attack. Worse still, it trains members to become spectators of someone else’s performance.

A members’ party must therefore separate functions.

• The chairperson helps ensure orderly governance.
• The board carries organisational responsibility.
• The spokesperson communicates publicly.
• Working groups develop knowledge and proposals.
• Members participate in judgement, deliberation and decision.
• The programme provides continuity across persons.

This does not remove the need for leadership. It civilises it.

• Leadership becomes a service function, not a possession.
• Visibility becomes a role, not a throne.
• Authority becomes conditional, not mystical.
• Representation becomes accountable, not theatrical.

Why: Protection against the defects of ordinary politics

Why is this necessary?

Because we have already described the defects of ordinary politics often enough.

First, the prospect of power — power over others — sometimes attracts peculiar characters. Not always. Not inevitably. But often enough to be politically dangerous. A system that rewards ambition, self-promotion, tactical flexibility and constant public performance should not be surprised when it attracts people especially talented in precisely those behaviours.

Second, the career ladder associated with the profession of politician demands a politician’s primary attention. There are committees, factions, candidacies, media appearances, alliances, internal rivalries, reputation management and permanent campaigning. Policy matters still matter, of course. But under such conditions they easily become subordinated to career survival.

Third, the cult of leadership remains one of democracy’s recurring temptations. Many citizens say they want participation, but in moments of fear they long for someone who will decide, cut through, impose, simplify and rescue. The strong leader is then imagined as a kind of political Hercules who will sweep away all obstacles and lead the people into a brighter future.

History gives us many reasons to distrust this fantasy.

Strong leaders often confuse public mission with personal destiny. They may use politics as a vehicle for their own legend. They may dominate institutions instead of strengthening them. They may silence dissent in the name of decisiveness. And even where their intentions are not destructive, the democratic habit of waiting for rescue weakens citizens themselves.

Fourth, high-profile individuals are increasingly vulnerable. In the age of social media, reputations can be damaged or destroyed with extraordinary speed. An anonymously launched smear campaign, a manipulated fragment, an old phrase torn from context, a coordinated wave of outrage — all of this can destabilise a party that depends too heavily on one visible person.

The answer is not invisibility.

A party must be visible.

The answer is distributed visibility, distributed competence and distributed responsibility.

A members’ party does not eliminate the dangers of vanity, careerism, leader worship or reputational attack. But it reduces dependence on precisely the structures that make those dangers so damaging.

A members’ party is not an old mass party

At this point, one misunderstanding should be avoided.

When we speak of a members’ party, we do not mean a nostalgic return to the old mass party of the twentieth century.

We do not imagine huge party branches, endless evening meetings, paper files, procedural rituals and a loyal membership that simply delivers votes every few years. Nor do we imagine a party in which every question must be decided by everyone all the time.

That would not be democracy.

It would be exhaustion.

A modern members’ party must be more intelligent than that.

It must allow different degrees of involvement. Some members will contribute continuously. Others will work on specific topics. Some will bring professional expertise. Others will bring local experience. Some will help with communication. Others will help with administration, events, research, translation, fundraising, design, technology, education, or candidate support.

Not every member must do everything.

But every member should be taken seriously as a political adult.

That means the party must offer more than applause and occasional mobilisation. It must offer orientation, knowledge, real tasks, understandable processes and meaningful ways to contribute.

A members’ party should not ask:

O “How can we use our members?”

It should ask:

ü “How can we help citizens become capable of sharing political responsibility?”

That is a very different question.

Technology: useful servant, dangerous master

Modern communication technology can help us here.

It can make a members’ party possible in ways that would have been unthinkable a generation ago. Members can meet across regions and countries. Documents can be shared instantly. Policy drafts can be commented on collectively. Working groups can coordinate without travelling. Knowledge can be stored, searched, translated and updated. Citizens who cannot attend physical meetings can still participate.

For a European project, this is indispensable.

Without digital communication, a transnational members’ party would remain slow, expensive and socially narrow. With digital communication, members in different regions and countries can learn together, deliberate together, organise together and eventually act together.

But technology is not salvation.

It can also damage politics.

• It can turn deliberation into permanent polling.
• It can reward speed over judgement.
• It can amplify outrage over thought.
• It can create pseudo-participation while real agenda-setting remains elsewhere.
• It can produce new informal elites: those with time, technical skill, rhetorical aggression, platform access or control over data.
• It can make politics louder while making it less wise.

So our principle should be simple:

Modern communication technology can help us become a members’ party. But it cannot make us one.

Technology can distribute information.

• It can accelerate consultation.
• It can preserve institutional memory.
• It can support multilingual cooperation.
• It can help build something like a political knowledge base — a political oracle, if you will — through which members can understand the programme, the reasoning behind it and the worldview from which it follows.

But technology cannot replace judgement.

• It cannot replace trust.
• It cannot replace responsibility.
• It cannot replace character.

A members’ party must therefore use technology under constitutional discipline. Technology should serve deliberation, learning and accountability. It should not become a machine for instant moods, emotional mobilisation or digital leader worship.

The platform must not become the party.

What follows: Members must become political adults

The conclusion is demanding.

A members’ party cannot consist of passive sympathisers waiting to be entertained by a leadership team.

It cannot consist of people who merely want to consume politics with a cleaner conscience.

It cannot be a fan club, a protest mailing list, a discussion circle or a moral comfort zone.

If the members are to be the living centre of the party, then membership must mean something.

• It means being willing to learn.
• It means being willing to listen.
• It means being willing to argue without destroying.
• It means being willing to accept procedures.
• It means being willing to distinguish programme from personal opinion.
• It means being willing to do small, boring, necessary tasks.
• It means being willing to carry responsibility before demanding influence.

That is why a members’ party is not the easy way.

It is the harder way.

But it is also the only way that fits our diagnosis.

• If we complain that politics has been left to career politicians, then we must stop leaving politics to career politicians.
  
  
• If we criticise leader cults, then we must stop waiting for leaders to rescue us.
  
  
• If we reject political theatre, then we must learn the craft of political work.
  
  
• If we say that the programme should matter more than the person, then we must build a party in which members understand, develop and defend the programme.

A members’ party is therefore not merely an organisational choice.

It is a democratic statement.

It says: politics is not a spectacle performed by a few for the many. Politics is the shared responsibility of citizens who are willing to become politically adult.

That is why we call ourselves a members’ party.

Not because members are always right.

They are not.

Not because participation solves every problem.

It does not.

Not because distributed responsibility is easy.

It is not.

But because a party that wants to renew democratic politics must itself begin by practising a more democratic form of politics.

The party does not derive its vitality from prominent personalities.

It derives its vitality from members who are willing to think, learn, organise and act together.

That is the promise.

It is also the burden.

Next Friday, we will address the fourth question:

Why do we want all of us to be part-time politicians — and no one a career politician?

Annotated APA 7 references

1. Brown, A. (2014). The myth of the strong leader: Political leadership in the modern age. Basic Books.
• Brown’s book is the central reference for the article’s critique of leader worship. He challenges the widespread assumption that “strong ” leaders — understood as dominant figures who impose themselves on colleagues and policy-making processes — are necessarily the most successful or admirable. This supports the article’s claim that democratic politics should distrust the saviour fantasy and value programme, institutions and shared responsibility over charismatic dominance.
  
  
2. Gerbaudo, P. (2021). Are digital parties more democratic than traditional parties? Evaluating Podemos and Movimento 5 Stelle’s online decision-making platforms. Party Politics, 27(4), 730–742.
• Gerbaudo’s work is useful for the article’s cautious treatment of technology. He analyses parties that present online platforms as instruments of intra-party democracy, especially Podemos and Movimento 5 Stelle. His conclusion is sobering: digital parties may promise membership-controlled participation, yet their platform politics can remain strong ly top-down. This supports the article’s distinction between technology as a useful servant and technology as a dangerous master.
  
  
3. Green Party of England and Wales. (2025). Constitution of the Green Party.
• The Green Party’s constitution is useful as a practical example of a party that institutionalises several anti-personalist features: co-leadership options, council structures, spokesperson roles and recall mechanisms. It should not be treated as a model to copy wholesale, but it provides a real-world precedent for separating leadership, representation and accountability in a party structure.
  
  
4. Greens/EFA Group in the European Parliament. (2026). Our co-presidents.
• The Greens/EFA Group provides a relevant European example of gender-balanced co-presidency and gender balance among Bureau members. This supports the article’s argument that the public face of a party or political group need not be a single dominant figure and that visibility can be structured institutionally. It is especially useful for discussing spokespersons, dual leadership and the symbolic importance of women in visible representative roles.
  
  
5. Inter-Parliamentary Union & Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe. (2018). Sexism, harassment and violence against women in parliaments in Europe. Inter-Parliamentary Union.
• This study is important for the article’s point about the vulnerability of highly visible political figures, especially women. The IPU/PACE findings reported that 58% of women parliamentarians surveyed had been targeted by online sexist attacks on social networks. This supports the argument that modern parties should not concentrate their public identity in one exposed individual, but should distribute visibility, support and responsibility.
  
  
6. Kling, C. C., Kunegis, J., Hartmann, H., Strohmaier, M., & Staab, S. (2015). Voting behaviour and power in online democracy: A study of LiquidFeedback in Germany’s Pirate Party. arXiv.
• This study of LiquidFeedback in the German Pirate Party is useful because it examines both the promise and risk of digital participation. It investigates the emergence of “super-voters” in a delegated online democracy platform. The authors found that theoretical power concentration existed, but also that such users often voted with majority tendencies. This makes the case neither for blind enthusiasm nor for simple rejection of digital tools, but for careful institutional design.
  
  
7. Michels, R. (1962). Political parties: A sociological study of the oligarchical tendencies of modern democracy (E. Paul & C. Paul, Trans.). Free Press. Original work published 1911.
• Michels is the classical reference for the “iron law of oligarchy”: the tendency of democratic organisations to develop leadership concentrations as they grow. His work is directly relevant because a members’ party must not romanticise membership democracy. The danger of informal elites, organisational routine and power concentration remains real, even in organisations founded with democratic intentions.
  
  
8. OECD. (2020). Innovative citizen participation and new democratic institutions: Catching the deliberative wave. OECD Publishing.
• The OECD report documents the growth of representative deliberative practices, collecting close to 300 examples and analysing their design choices, trade-offs, benefits and limits. It supports the article’s broader claim that citizens can contribute meaningfully to complex public decisions when participation is structured, informed and deliberative. It also reinforces a central warning: participation must be designed; it does not become wise merely because many people are involved.
  
  
9. Scarrow, S. E. (2015). Beyond party members: Changing approaches to partisan mobilization. Oxford University Press.
• Scarrow’s work is highly relevant to the concept of a modern members’ party. She shows that party members have historically played a central role in parliamentary democracies by helping parties mobilise voters and visibly linking party leaders with grassroots supporters. Her analysis also helps distinguish older mass-party models from more flexible forms of partisan mobilisation. This supports the article’s claim that a members’ party should not nostalgically reproduce twentieth-century structures, but should make membership meaningful in modern conditions.
  
  
10. Shaw, A., & Hill, B. M. (2014). Laboratories of oligarchy? How the iron law extends to peer production. arXiv.
• Shaw and Hill are useful because they test Michels’ “iron law” in modern online collaborative communities. Their findings suggest that even peer-production projects inspired by open collaboration may develop entrenched leadership and participation inequalities as they grow. This is a strong warning for any party tempted to believe that digital openness alone prevents oligarchy. It supports the article’s demand for constitutional discipline in the use of technology.
  
  
11. Tufekci, Z. (2017). Twitter and tear gas: The power and fragility of networked protest. Yale University Press.
• Tufekci’s work helps explain why rapid digital mobilisation is not the same as durable political capacity. Her analysis of networked protest shows that online tools can help movements rise quickly, but also that movements may suffer when they bypass the slow organisational work needed for resilience, strategy and decision-making. This supports the article’s distinction between members as temporary supporters and members as politically responsible co-builders.