What business leaders can learn from the erosion of democracy
Most people care about democracy. So why do they sit quietly while its foundations are being chipped away – and what can organisations learn from this?
The erosion of democratic institutions cannot be explained solely by the actions of those pushing against democratic norms. It also depends on the response – or lack of response – from those who support them.
We describe this dynamic as a “cycle of passivity”: a process in which people dampen their emotions and voices as reactionaries amplify theirs. We highlight three interlocking mechanisms – tolerance, denial and adherence – that perpetuate this cycle.
Democracy is more than a set of rules
Much of the public discussion about democracy focuses on formal institutions: elections, legislatures and legal systems. These structures matter enormously. But our research suggests that democracy is better understood as an ethos: a shared commitment to values such as inclusion, equality, justice and truth.
Institutions survive not simply because rules exist, but because people remain emotionally invested in the ideals those rules represent. The same principle applies within organisations: corporate cultures, professional standards and institutional missions rely on people's commitment to shared values and their willingness to defend them when challenged.
When that commitment weakens, institutions become vulnerable to change. Research shows this often begins through “institutional drift” – small departures from established norms that are tolerated because they seem minor or temporary. Left unchallenged, these deviations can accumulate and contribute to “institutional erosion” – the gradual hollowing out of the values that originally gave institutions legitimacy and purpose.
Tolerance
Tolerance is normally seen as a democratic virtue. We overlook minor missteps to keep social interactions smooth. The problem arises when deliberate violations of democratic norms get treated as one-off occurrences.
When Donald Trump first branded the press “fake news,” many dismissed it as theatre. That rhetoric quickly escalated into calling journalists “the enemy of the people.” During the Brexit campaign, misinformation and attacks on expertise – epitomised by the claim that “people in this country have had enough of experts” – were often brushed away as campaign rhetoric. Yet such messaging systematically chipped away at trust in institutions and expertise, with long-term consequences for democratic debate.
What begins as an exception gradually becomes normalised.
"Democracy is better understood as an ethos: a shared commitment to values such as inclusion, equality, justice and truth."
Denial
As violations mount, tolerance gives way to denial. We reassure ourselves that outrageous events are isolated incidents, that institutions are resilient, and that things will eventually return to normal.
We saw this after the Brexit referendum, initially framed as a singular rupture, rather than part of a longer-term transformation in political norms and public discourse.
Denial serves an important psychological function, shielding us from anxiety. But it also disconnects us from the very emotions that make democratic institutions feel worth defending in the first place.
The same tendency appears in organisations facing ethical failures, cultural decline or governance problems. People may recognise warning signs while convincing themselves that the situation is temporary or that someone else will intervene.
Civility
The final mechanism is adherence. It is the feeling that one is obliged to remain calm and rational, even when provocations are extraordinary. This creates an asymmetry. Reactionary forces deploy anger, outrage and defiance with abandon, presenting their intensity as “authenticity”. By contrast, those defending democratic norms often rely on measured, technocratic language that may appear emotionally distant.
During the Brexit campaign, prominent Remain supporters relied heavily on factual, rational arguments while reinforcing that emotional politics should be avoided. While normatively appealing, this restraint contributed to a mismatch in emotional expressiveness.
The result is a widening gap in emotional engagement. The louder reactionaries become, the more supporters of democratic norms withdraw.
"Organisations do not run on rules and procedures alone. They also depend on emotional commitment to shared values."
For leaders, this insight carries implications beyond politics. Organisations do not run on rules and procedures alone. They also depend on emotional commitment to shared values. When leaders communicate only through detached managerial language while challengers mobilise powerful emotions, institutions can lose legitimacy even when the facts remain on their side.
Breaking free
This cycle is not inevitable, but breaking out requires confronting several uncomfortable truths:
- What we are witnessing is not a series of isolated incidents but a systematic erosion of democratic norms. Tolerance, in this context, is not a virtue but complicity.
- Expressing emotion in defence of democratic values is not alarmist but essential. Passion and reasoned argument are not mutually exclusive. The most effective advocacy combines evidence and analysis with relatable stories and a clear sense of shared stakes.
- Democratic renewal depends on emotional solidarity: shared feelings of pride, hope and even anger that bind people in collective action. Whether in democratic societies or organisational settings, that means creating spaces for public expression and building broad coalitions that include marginalised voices.
Democracy is not a permanent condition. Like any institution, it depends on collective commitment. Our research suggests institutions are rarely weakened by challengers alone. They are also weakened when those who value them remain passive in the face of mounting threats. Silence, however well-intentioned, is not defence. It is surrender.