You know those people who tell us that “democracy is on the ballot”?

They are misinformed.

The word “democracy” isn’t anywhere on the statewide ballot. But you will find nonsense pretending to be democracy.

Before each statewide election, I read every word of the ballot, the voter guide and the ballot measures. Why, besides masochism? Because at least one California should. After all, in the Golden State, we get to enact laws or constitutional amendments ourselves. And we shouldn’t complain about state legislators who don’t read the bills they vote on if we won’t do the reading ourselves.I also read out of professional obligation. Direct democracy is my bag — for two decades I’ve led a global forum on the subject. Not that this knowledge helps, when it comes to California. Direct democracy around the world often allows people to enact ideas that might otherwise be ignored. But California-style direct democracy rarely does that; instead, it’s another way for rich interests to fight each other, and confuse the public in the process.

The first thing that stands out about 2024’s ballot measures is their extreme length. The Constitution of the United States runs 7,600 words.

Which is shorter than three different measures on your November ballot.

Proposition 2, multibillion-dollar bond measure put on the ballot by the Legislature at the behest of construction interests, takes 17,741 words to outline a funding formula for building new school facilities. Another legislature bond measure, Proposition 4, requires 15,399 words to fund parks, water and environmental projects. It’s long because it’s specific about dividing up the spending, with a new state fund.

Proposition 35, an initiative backed by health interests, requires 14,378 words to make permanent an existing tax on managed care organizations with the goal of making Medi-Cal funding more secure. Many of those words are in there to limit how this funding is used — making Medi-Cal, a difficult program to manage, even less flexible.

Why such verbosity on the ballot? The (mercifully) short answer: lack of trust. Interests that spend millions funding campaigns for measures don’t trust politicians to interpret the authors’ intent.

Of course, ballot measures don’t have to be long. Two legislative amendments on the ballot are just a few words, subtracting small passages from the state Constitution. Proposition 6 removes the words “except to punish crime” from the state Constitution to enact a blanket prohibition on slavery. Proposition 3 eliminates California’s 2008 ban on same-sex marriage to protect couples from the possibility of the conservative U.S. Supreme Court reducing that court’s 2015 legalization of same-sex marriage.

At least the justification for these short measures makes sense. It’s harder to see why Proposition 32, a measure that tweaks the formula for the minimum wage, is on the ballot at all. California’s minimum wage is already the highest in the country and rises with inflation. The measure’s main change is adding inflexibility to minimum wage law and imposing another of the two-third supermajority requirements (governing changes or reductions to minimum wage) that make governing California so hard.

In fact, the most sensible feature of any 2024 ballot measure is the elimination of a supermajority requirement in Proposition 5. This legislative amendment would allow local governments to approve affordable housing and infrastructure bonds with a 55% vote, rather than requiring two-thirds support. But Prop 5, maddeningly, also establishes its own two-thirds supermajority requirement if the Legislature wants to hold localities accountable for spending.

Supermajorities are bad, but there’s nothing uglier than Propositions 33 and 34. Both measures are about punishing political enemies in the housing policy wars. Prop 33, in the guise of an initiative to allow cities more power to enact rent control, is an attempt by a divisive public figure, AIDS Healthcare Foundation president Michael Weinstein, to punish his enemies among YIMBY interests who want to build more housing. Prop 34 is an attempt by those same real estate interests, in the disguise of defending health care access, to punish Weinstein’s foundation.

Finally, there’s the initiative Prop 36, which would reimpose some penalties for drug crimes and retail theft.

One might think determining the specifics of sentencing would be best handled by experts. But California voters long ago seized dominion over such questions, with earlier ballot measures. And Prop 36 establishes its new two-thirds supermajority requirement if the legislature wants to make further sentencing changes.

Why? Because this is California, where democracy isn’t on the ballot. It’s on an endless loop.

Mathews is columnist for Zócalo Public Square and Democracy Local.