The Case for the Lesser Evil: Essays on the Ethics of Voting

November 3, 2026

A Compendium of Writings on the Morality of Voting

Sauron – an illustration of a greater evil that you might vote for a lesser one to avoid. (NA)

Tomorrow brings election day, and, to be blunt, many of the choices voters face aren’t ideal. In too many contests, the viable contenders are all unsatisfactory. This reality, like similar recent electoral cycles, raises challenging questions about whether there is a moral obligation to vote, whether casting a ballot for a seriously flawed candidate can ever be permissible when the alternative is arguably worse, and how to weigh conflicting considerations in making voting decisions. I have written at length about these kinds of issues before, and this post links to and summarizes several of those writings. It does not tell you which candidate you should back in any particular race. I have previously argued that, for federal elections in most cases this year, the Democrats constitute the lesser evil (though state and local races often present a different picture). I have also argued why libertarians (myself included) should consider aligning with “abundance liberals” and why the historic fusionist alignment with conservatives probably cannot—or should not—be revived soon. This post does not advocate a specific voting choice; it collects pieces about how we ought to approach such decisions in general—and whether we should even make them at all. Much of what follows adapts ideas I previously shared in a 2024 post. Unless stated otherwise, the pieces here appeared first on this VC blog:

1. The Logic of Voting for a Lesser Evil
This essay, sparked by the 2016 election, remains largely relevant today. It argues that voting for the lesser evil can be both permissible and prudent in elections where all viable options are objectionable. It confronts several counterarguments, including the claim that supporting a lesser evil makes you morally responsible for that candidate’s misdeeds, that it’s better to cast a symbolic protest vote for a long-shot candidate, that the probability of your vote deciding the outcome is vanishingly small, and other related points. A short excerpt follows:

Picture an election with only two choices: Cersei, the monarch in a fantasy realm, and Sauron, the Dark Lord of another legend. If Cersei wins, she will kill many and oppress others, albeit leaving much of the population relatively unthreatened so long as they don’t oppose her openly or threaten her circle. If Sauron wins, the scale of death and enslavement would be vastly greater. A protest vote for a much better alternative—Gandalf, say—would be appealing, but suppose these options exist only in theory and have no practical chance of prevailing. If a protest vote would have supported Cersei otherwise, the protest could unintentionally raise the odds that the worst outcome, Sauron’s victory, comes to pass. In such a scenario, a voter who ensures a Cersei win would be performing a morally defensible act, because they save many from slavery or death, even though the regime would be profoundly unjust. The Cersei–Sauron thought experiment clearly mirrors the Trump–Hillary clash in spirit, though it is an exaggerated representation of that trade-off. Yet it can illuminate many real elections voters face today. Notice how this reasoning diverges from the view that one should only vote for a candidate who meets a minimum standard of character or policy virtue. Under this framework, voting for almost any candidate—perhaps even an oppressive ruler like Cersei—is morally defensible if all practical options are worse. Canadian columnist John Robson responded to my piece in the National Post, and I later published a rebuttal in response.

2. Justifying a Moral Duty to Vote Is Much Harder Than You Might Think
Many people, including some scholars of political theory, believe we have a duty to vote. I am not persuaded. In fact, in numerous situations it may be wiser not to vote, especially when ignorance and bias render a bad decision likely. Casting a ballot under misinformation and prejudice is frequently worse than abstaining.

3. Is There a Moral Duty to Vote in High-Stakes Elections?
Even if there is no general obligation to vote, one might wonder if there is a moral duty to participate when the stakes are unusually high. I argue against this notion for the majority of voters. There is, however, a kernel of truth in the claim: a duty to vote could exist when the difference between candidates is substantial enough to influence a grave outcome, even if the odds of a decisive vote are slim. The central point is that the duty, if it exists, is not about participating for its own sake but about aiding good to prevail when doing so comes at little or no cost. If a duty to vote for the “better” option follows from this, there is, conversely, a duty not to vote for the “worse” option. In that sense, a voter who backs Sauron is more culpable than one who abstains; the latter merely declines to assist evil, while the former actively furthers it. In this framework, Gandalf supporters may bear a duty to vote, while Sauron supporters would be better off abstaining or withdrawing support. Of course, this entire analysis presumes a voter can identify which candidate is superior and by how much—a condition that is rarely met in reality given widespread political ignorance and bias. Until a person becomes adequately informed and capable of evaluating political information objectively, they have a strong reason to question their own judgments about who is preferable. Consequently, they may have a strong presumptive duty to refrain from voting until they reach a minimal level of political knowledge. Later in the piece I note potential exceptions to this presumptive abstention—some unusual circumstances in which ignorant voting may outperform informed voting—and I address several caveats and counterarguments.

4. How to Be a Better Voter
This section highlights steps toward more effective voting, drawing on ideas from a helpful article in Scientific American. The aim is to show that a broad range of people can improve their voting competence without needing to be policy experts or academics. I remain skeptical, however, that a large portion of the electorate will commit to the necessary time and effort.

5. Suffer the Little Children to Vote
Here I offer a tentative case for allowing children to vote, provided they demonstrate a level of political knowledge comparable to that of the average adult voter—an admittedly modest standard. I further discuss the practicality of implementing such a test, noting concerns about governmental objectivity in knowledge testing (even though immigrants seeking citizenship already face knowledge assessments). Letting knowledgeable children vote is among my more controversial ideas (to put it mildly). I still stand by it. My own 11-year-old daughter is among the supporters of this proposal. This idea should be distinguished from the notion of letting parents vote on behalf of their children, a policy supported by some public figures.

6. Top-Down and Bottom-Up Solutions to the Problem of Political Ignorance, in Hana Samaržija and Quassim Cassam, editors. The Epistemology of Democracy (Routledge, 2023)
A core problem in voting is that many voters are ignorant about public policy and biased in evaluating the information they do know. This article surveys a variety of potential remedies. Abstract: There is broad consensus that widespread voter ignorance and irrational evaluation of evidence threaten democracy, but there is sharp disagreement about how to mitigate the danger. Top-down approaches—such as epistocracy or granting more authority to experts—seek to curb ignorance by concentrating political power in the hands of a more knowledgeable minority. Bottom-up strategies aim to raise public political competence or empower ordinary people in ways that yield better decision-making than conventional ballot behavior. Examples include education to improve voter knowledge, various sortition proposals, and shifting more decisions to institutions where citizens can “vote with their feet.” The chapter evaluates a range of such strategies. I conclude that top-down methods have systematic flaws that limit their effectiveness and should not be adopted on a large scale, even if they cannot be dismissed entirely. Bottom-up approaches also face limitations, but expanding opportunities for foot voting shows more promise than any other current option. The idea of paying voters to increase their knowledge also deserves serious consideration. I elaborate on the foot-voting approach in my book Free to Move: Foot Voting, Migration, and Political Freedom. I have also recently summarized and extended these ideas in “Strengthen Democracy by Empowering People to Vote with their Feet,” an article for the NYU Democracy Project, later reprinted as a chapter in Democracy’s Challenges: 100 Ideas (Robert Bauer, Samuel Issacharoff, Richard Pildes, and Rosa Po, eds., NYU Press, 2026).

7. Setting Issue Priorities
This piece discusses how to determine which issues deserve greater attention than others. It is not limited to voting, but its guidance is highly pertinent to voting decisions.

8. If You Don’t Vote, You Still Have Every Right to Complain
If the above considerations weigh you down, this piece may offer a bit of consolation: you can criticize the policies of the winners even if you choose not to vote. The logic also implies that if you vote for the winner as a lesser evil, you retain the right to critique the governing policy. Cast your vote for Cersei when necessary to prevent Sauron, but remember to condemn the harm she does. Just be mindful to avoid being in the wrong place when she begins to purge her critics.

Natalie Foster

I’m a political writer focused on making complex issues clear, accessible, and worth engaging with. From local dynamics to national debates, I aim to connect facts with context so readers can form their own informed views. I believe strong journalism should challenge, question, and open space for thoughtful discussion rather than amplify noise.