Politicians Are Just Sellers With Different Products
Why government decisions follow incentives, not intentions
Why does the US Senate work the way it does? Why do some leaders build roads while others steal the money? Why do regulations so often end up serving the industries they're supposed to police — you need a set of lenses that apply everywhere. That's what Mechanism Foundations is: the underlying forces that shape organized power, before you zoom into any one country.
The most disorienting of those lenses is public-choice theory. It came out of economics in the 1950s and 60s, and its core claim is simple enough to say in one sentence: politicians, bureaucrats, and voters are just people, and people respond to incentives. That's it. But the implications are genuinely strange.
The standard story of government is that it's a planning operation. Citizens identify a problem. Leaders design a solution. Bureaucrats implement it. The goal is the public good.
James Buchanan (1919–2013, United States) — the economist who won the Nobel Prize in 1986 for developing public-choice theory — looked at this story and said: you're applying two completely different models of human behavior depending on whether someone is in a market or in government. In a market, you assume people pursue their own interests. In government, you suddenly assume they pursue everyone else's interests. Why would the same person switch modes the moment they take a government salary?
Buchanan's answer: they don't. And once you stop assuming they do, government starts to make a lot more sense.
Make your call
A senator is deciding whether to support a military base closure in her state. The base is expensive, redundant, and the Pentagon doesn't want it. What does she do?
A
Support the closure — it saves taxpayer money and the Pentagon knows best
B
Oppose the closure — the base employs thousands of her constituents who vote
C
Stay neutral and let the Pentagon decide without political interference
This is the core of public-choice theory: the incentives facing political actors are structurally different from the incentives facing a city planner trying to optimize a bus route. A politician's product is votes. To get votes, you deliver visible benefits to organized groups who will notice, remember, and show up on election day. You avoid imposing visible costs on those same groups, even when the costs are economically justified.
The result looks a lot like a market — just one where the currency is votes and the product is policy. Corn subsidies exist not because they're good agricultural policy (most economists think they're terrible) but because corn farmers are a concentrated, organized constituency who care intensely about this one issue. Consumers who pay a few extra cents per box of cereal have no idea and no incentive to organize against it. The farmer shows up. The consumer doesn't. The subsidy persists.
This is what Buchanan called the logic of concentrated benefits and diffuse costs. It's why programs that most people would vote to eliminate in a referendum somehow never get eliminated by the people we elect to eliminate them.
Public-choice theory doesn't say politicians are corrupt. It says they're responding rationally to their actual incentives — and those incentives are almost never 'maximize the public good.' Once you see this, you stop being surprised by government dysfunction and start asking: what are the actual incentives here, and what behavior would those produce?
The uncomfortable extension of this logic is that voters aren't behaving irrationally either, even when they're badly informed. Buchanan's colleague Gordon Tullock (1922–2014, United States) — who developed much of the formal apparatus of public-choice theory alongside Buchanan — pointed out that being an informed voter is a terrible personal investment. Your single vote almost certainly won't change any election outcome. Spending 40 hours researching candidates is a lot of effort for an expected return of essentially zero. So most voters stay rationally ignorant — they vote on vibes, party affiliation, and the last thing they heard. Politicians know this, and they campaign accordingly.
None of this means government can't do good things. It does. But public-choice theory insists you explain how — through what incentive structure — rather than just assuming good intentions produce good outcomes. The other mechanisms in this series (why bureaucracies never shrink, why regulators end up serving industries, why even democratic movements drift toward hierarchy) are all downstream of this same basic insight: organizations are made of people, and people optimize for what they're rewarded for. Government included.