Democracy: Campus Edition

Politics, at university, is everywhere. It’s in the leaflets that materialize in your hands the second you cross campus, in the endless debates about tuition fees, and, most terrifyingly, in the WhatsApp groups where someone always types “we should organize.”

But here’s the real kicker: politics is basically just a group project. Hear me out.

Think about it — democracy is the world’s largest shared Google Doc. Everyone’s invited to edit, half the people don’t show up, and one loud person keeps insisting their idea is “actually what the people want.” In the end, the deadline arrives, the thing is submitted, and nobody is entirely happy. Sound familiar?

The resemblance goes deeper than it seems. Group projects and politics both thrive on confusion, compromise, and caffeine. There’s always someone who ghosts the chat, someone who over-contributes, and someone who passionately argues for a policy no one asked about. And yet, somehow, against all odds, the final product — whether it’s a PowerPoint or a government — limps into existence.

You can roll your eyes at student council elections, but those are the training wheels for the bigger game. Today it’s free coffee in the library; tomorrow it’s climate policy, taxation, or whether the vending machine finally gets a vegan option. Every manifesto that begins with “I believe in change” is just the campus version of a campaign speech.

Here’s the tricky part: as students, we’re constantly told to “get involved,” but it’s hard to know what that means. Should we march? Should we vote? Should we angrily repost an infographic at 2 a.m.? The truth is, politics isn’t about being perfect — it’s about being present. The most radical act might simply be showing up, whether that’s to a ballot box, a protest, or a dingy basement meeting where someone has made a PowerPoint with way too many transitions.

There’s something quietly beautiful about that — the idea that imperfect people can build something together, however messy. The moment you care enough to write your name in that metaphorical Google Doc, you’ve already contributed to something larger than yourself. Even if your idea gets ignored. Even if the loudest voice wins. Even if the final font is Comic Sans.

And maybe that’s the point. Democracy isn’t meant to be neat. It’s a constant argument between apathy and hope, between “what’s the point” and “let’s try anyway.” On campus, it looks like flyers, petitions, or debates in lecture halls. In the world beyond, it looks like parliaments, protests, and policies. The scale changes, but the principle doesn’t: people trying to figure out how to share power without killing each other.

Next time you’re tempted to skip out on politics, remember: if you don’t write in the Google Doc, someone else will — and they might decide the title font is Papyrus.

So, yes, democracy is messy, and group projects are hell. But they are both proof that when a bunch of flawed humans try to do something together, the outcome, however awkward, is still better than leaving it to one guy who thinks Comic Sans is “edgy.”

At its best, politics — like a group project gone surprisingly well — teaches you something rare: that collective chaos, for all its flaws, is still worth believing in.