For years as a young journalist and editor, I perpetuated a lie.
I can sense several of you smirking like I’m about to admit what you’ve always thought about my profession, but hold on, Betsy—this isn’t what you think it is. I’m not confessing to fabricating sources or making up quotes or secretly working for Big Crossword Puzzle.
No, the lie was much simpler and, I thought at the time, far more noble.
For years, it was my practice—and when I was a newsroom manager, the practice of all the editors I managed—to go out and vote on election day, then come back to the office and write about voter turnout. Without fail, I would comment on disappointingly low numbers and encourage people to get to the polls because everyone should have a voice in their government. As a recent example, Tuesday’s election in Georgia had a higher turnout than expected — and still turnout was a paltry 22% of registered voters. I would see this over and over in any election that wasn’t a presidential race.
Democracy dies in darkness, sunlight is the best disinfectant, your vote is your voice, and all those other platitudes we journalists love to trot out like participation trophies for civic engagement.
I believed it, too. Every word.
But time, circumstance, and an unfortunate amount of firsthand observation have chipped away at that optimism like a persistent woodpecker attacking the siding on democracy’s house.
Here’s the truth I’ve come to accept: while I am still a strong believer in the idea that everyone has the right to vote, I no longer believe that everyone should vote.
I know, I know. My journalism school professors just felt a disturbance in the Force, as if millions of civic responsibility lectures suddenly cried out in terror. But hear me out.
After years of covering elections, attending candidate forums, and watching social media turn every ballot issue into a cage match between people who haven’t read past a meme, I’ve reached an uncomfortable conclusion: Some of y’all really shouldn’t vote.
With apologies to Jeff Foxworthy, here’s how you know:
- If you believe the earth is flat and that every nation in the world—even those currently lobbing missiles at each other—are somehow conspiring together to keep this information hidden… you probably shouldn’t vote. I’m not saying you can’t. I’m saying maybe sit this one out and let people who believe in basic geometry make the call.
- If you get your news exclusively from a guy sitting in his car ranting on TikTok… you might not want to vote. I don’t care how many followers he has or how confidently he’s yelling. He’s in a Kia with a smartphone.
- If your main sources of information are YouTube videos with titles like “THEY DON’T WANT YOU TO KNOW THIS!!!” (always with multiple exclamation points, as if punctuation equals credibility)… perhaps democracy can survive without your input this time around.
- If you’ve ever felt that the comments section of any website gave you wisdom and knowledge rather than just a window into humanity’s collective brain rot… you probably shouldn’t be filling out a ballot. The comments section is where nuance goes to die and where people argue about things that aren’t even in the article they didn’t read.
- If you think fact-checking is censorship and research is what other people should do to prove you wrong… maybe skip the voting booth and spend that time at your local library performing something resembling actual research.
- If you can’t name your current representatives but you’re absolutely certain they’re all corrupt… that’s not informed citizenship, that’s just regular run of the mill cynicism.
- If you believe every election is rigged but you’re still planning to vote to prove it… I’m confused by your logic and you should be too.
- If your entire political philosophy can fit on a bumper sticker and you’re not open to the possibility that governing is more complicated than slogans… perhaps let this one go.
- If you think compromise is weakness and nuance is for people who don’t have convictions… I’d vote for you not voting
- If you’ve ever shared something on social media and then later discovered it was satire but decided the point still stood… no. Just no.
Look, I’m not trying to be elitist here. I’m not saying you need a degree in political science (though, I happen to have one) or that you should pass a civics test to vote. I’m saying that maybe—just maybe—if you haven’t bothered to learn the basics about what you’re voting on, the most responsible thing you can do is not vote.
When I was growing up, all the talk was about voter apathy. It was treated like a disease, a failure of civic duty, a sign that democracy was in peril. There was even a bumper sticker that just said “Don’t blame me, I didn’t vote for him.” It could be used for any elected official. That’s right kids, some people were so proud of not voting that they weren’t afraid to announce it to the world.
But here’s what I’ve come to appreciate about voter apathy: back then, people who didn’t feel they knew the issues simply didn’t vote. They were apathetic, yes, but they also didn’t stick their nose into things they didn’t understand. They didn’t show up to cast ballots based on vibes, memes, or whatever their uncle posted on Facebook that morning.
Sadly, I miss the days of voter apathy.
Because somewhere along the way, we replaced apathy with confidence without competence. We traded “I don’t know enough to vote” for “I have strong opinions based on a headline I half-read.” We swapped out humility for hot takes.
The problem isn’t that too few people vote. The problem is that too many people vote without having the faintest idea what they’re voting for—or against.
Your right to vote is sacred. But so is your right to recognize when you’re not informed enough to exercise it responsibly.
Democracy isn’t about everyone voting. It’s about informed citizens making thoughtful choices. And if you’re not informed and you’re not planning to become informed — and if you’ve never been particularly thoughtful — the best thing you can do on Election Day might be to just stay home.
Now, some of you might be mad at this assertion. And I fully expect some unfollows, dislikes, and yes, you can always rip me apart in the comments section.
But, as we’ve established, the comments are not a place where wisdom lives.

B.T. Clark
B.T. Clark is an award-winning journalist and the Publisher of The Georgia Sun. He has 25 years of experience in journalism and served as Managing Editor of Neighbor Newspapers in metro Atlanta for 15 years and Digital Director at Times-Journal Inc. for 8 years. His work has appeared in several newspapers throughout the state including Neighbor Newspapers, The Cherokee Tribune and The Marietta Daily Journal. He is a Georgia native and a fifth-generation Georgian.

