Democracies are not simply societies where elections periodically happen. Nor are they just societies where newspapers are free to publish what they want.
A healthy, vibrant democracy has a number of key features, mass political engagement and participation for example, but the most basic of all of these could be defined as the commonweal, a medieval term that means 'the welfare of the public'.
Ironically, this pre-democratic term is of huge relevance in the troubled times in which we live, as ideas of government and society are constantly being re-assessed and evaluated. In many areas of public life it can be said that the notion of the commonweal has been abandoned and in the treatment and prevention of gambling addiction there is overwhelming evidence.
In 2005 the Gambling Act was passed by Tony Blair's final administration, paving the way for super casinos, the mass proliferation of betting shops, fixed odds betting terminals, smart phone gambling apps and a vast expansion in gambling advertising.
The damage caused to British society as a result of this staggeringly reckless legislation has been incalculable. The incidences of gambling addiction have sky rocketed and bookmakers have deliberately targeted some of the poorest and most deprived communities in the country. Their simple and cynical calculation has been that poorer people feel more stressed and unhappy more regularly and are more inclined to seek an escape from the problems that so often overwhelm them.
This has been used to siphon wealth out of communities and into businesses that all to often avoid paying taxation, leaving the community to pick up the tab.
Is this an example of the commonweal? Is this evidence of legislation being created to benefit the population at large? Certainly not. It is dressed up in the language of choice and freedom and those who point out the blatant exploitation of vulnerable people are decried as do-gooders and killjoys.
The influence that the bookmakers have over government suggests that something profoundly undemocratic is at play. After years of rising concern over the addictive nature of fixed odds betting terminals (FOBTs), where a maximum stake of £100 can be gambled every twenty seconds, parliamentarians of all parties have finally found the courage to do something about it.
The Department of Culture, Media and Sport and the Treasury have agreed that the maximum stake on all FOBTs should be reduced to £2, but even then the lobbyists for the industry (who are moonlighting as parliamentarians) are attempting to derail the vote.
Astoundingly, it is Pensions Secretary Esther McVey who has objected to the regulation of FOBTS (despite the fact that FOBTs will lead to many thousands of impoverished pensioners eventually). In addition to this the Conservative MP Phillip Davies, who, in the Register of Members Interests had received hospitality in 2017 alone on twelve separate occasions from Skybet, Coral and William Hill, has vociferously attacked the proposed changes.
Is this in any way democratic? Is the ability of corporate donors with deep pockets to induce MPs to represent their interests which are diametrically opposed to those of the public consistent with democratic life? One might argue that the almost universal cross bench consensus against FOBTs represents a victory for democracy and indeed, it is welcome. However, the many years in which these machines have destroyed family after family with legal impunity surely represents a dreadful democratic failing.