Tomorrow is election day. At times, I find myself wishing our elections resembled the papal conclave. Admittedly, like all human institutions, the conclave has its flaws. It is fundamentally undemocratic, shrouded in secrecy, and excludes public participation. Yet, it offers valuable lessons that could help elevate the integrity and quality of our electoral process.

The conclave emphasizes service over ambition, silence over spectacle, and the common good over partisan interests. These values stand in stark contrast to how we currently select our leaders and offer a powerful critique of our political culture. If even a fraction of these principles were integrated into our elections, the public might begin to regain trust in the democratic process and choose candidates who truly reflect their hopes and dreams.

At its core, the conclave is rooted in prayerful discernment. Cardinals are sequestered in the Sistine Chapel—no phones, no interviews, no media exposure—until a new Pope is chosen. This deliberate isolation fosters a spirit of contemplation and careful deliberation. Of course, politics still plays a role. Some maneuver for influence, while others follow prevailing winds. Yet through it all, the Holy Spirit is believed to work in unexpected ways. In the conclave, the cardinals learn that the Spirit’s voice becomes most audible when they relinquish the need for control. Letting go does not mean passive resignation, but making space to see more clearly and to discern God’s will through prayer.

In contrast, our elections are often driven by opinion polls, lobbying efforts, viral misinformation, media distortion, and relentless mudslinging. These forces distort public perception, shifting attention away from a candidate’s moral character and toward their perceived electability.

Speaking of character, the conclave seeks not just any leader, but a successor to St. Peter, the first head of the Church appointed by Christ. Despite his flaws, Peter sought to live up to Jesus’s challenge: “Whoever wants to be first must be the last of all and the servant of all” (Mark 9:35). This is why the Pope bears the title servus servorum Dei (servant of the servants of God.) The conclave also strives to choose someone who shows a preferential option for those excluded or marginalized due to economic status, race, religion, gender, ideology, or other barriers. As Jesus said, “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me” (Matthew 25:40).

In our elections, do we seek leaders who approximate the honesty and integrity expected of a true public servant? Recent elections suggest otherwise. Many of those favored by the public have been driven by ambition, the pursuit of power, or personal gain. Too often, our political system seems built more for self-preservation than for public service. Under pressure from powerful interest groups, party machinery, lobbyists, and media manipulation, many elected officials abandon their convictions and neglect the needs of the poor and vulnerable in favor of those who can help secure their re-election.

Our Gospel reading today reminds us that a good leader mirrors the qualities of the Good Shepherd (John 10:11). But it also highlights the reciprocal nature of the relationship: “I know my sheep, and my sheep know me” (John 10:14). A shepherd’s effectiveness is not only reflected in his leadership, but in the responsiveness and trust of the flock. No matter how wise or capable a leader may be, leadership breaks down if the people are divided, indifferent, or disengaged. A leader is only as strong as the community that follows and supports him.

This sense of mutual responsibility is often absent in modern governance. Too many leaders are insulated by layers of bureaucracy that separate them from the people they serve. Tragically, we’ve grown accustomed to this dysfunction. We have become numb, resigned to a false sense of helplessness. After countless election cycles, many of us feel that no matter whom we vote for, the results remain the same. So, we just grin and say: “Whoever wins, we lose.”