Coronavirus has de-democratised what is supposed to be the US’s most prized democratic institution: Congress.

With the US economy shut down for the foreseeable future and the clock ticking on patchwork federal programmes to keep people and businesses afloat, the negotiating reins for federal rescue legislation have been forced into the hands of party leaders and a select handful of committee chairmen and ranking members — with everyone else left largely on the sidelines warming the bench.

In March, Congress passed a $2.2trn economic relief package cobbled together behind closed doors mostly by this small coterie of party and committee leaders and a small team of White House economic advisers.

When that bill finally emerged, not a single senator voted against it. Only one House member, Kentucky Republican Thomas Massie, voted “no”. Days later, Donald Trump signed the so-called CARES Act into law.

No public committee hearings. No markups. No robust floor debate. Most House members weren’t even in Washington for negotiations or the final vote. Most senators were isolated in their D.C. apartments unless they were called to the floor for votes.

In the Senate, just three amendments got floor time (and were promptly voted down). In the House, none.

Demand for action

To be certain, no one person or party is responsible for this de-democratisation of Congress. It’s one of the many side effects of social distancing.

The public expects action in a crisis. Swift action.

Speed, decisiveness are everything.

So it went that the most expensive bill in US history was passed under perhaps the least democratic, least inclusive process in US history.

And so it will go for any subsequent legislation, as long as the coronavirus crisis continues to keep lawmakers away from Washington.

At a time when the rank-and-file’s input is perhaps needed most, social distancing guidelines have rendered it impossible for Congress to craft legislation under the ages-old “normal process” and caucus routines that rely on face-to-face collegiality and give voice to all members’ concerns.

Democratic lawmakers have already begun identifying problems with the CARES Act.

The Treasury Department’s small business paycheck protection programme (PPP), which received an infusion of more than $350bn in the CARES Act to help companies keep employees on their payroll, hasn’t been doling out money to “community-based financial institutions” that provide capital to mostly minority-, tribal-, women-, and veteran-owned small businesses in poor areas of the country without easy access to normal banks.

Democrats are complaining that the CARES Act doesn’t provide nearly enough funding for the states, localities, and health systems bearing the brunt of the pandemic response.

Meanwhile, Republicans are worried that PPP, the small business lending program, will run dry by the end of this week. Congress needs to pump an additional $250bn into it. Now. There’s no time to hash out legislative caveats, they say, no time to write new language to expand funding for food stamps benefits and other things.

That’s because senators and House members are back in their states and districts, largely confined to their homes like the rest of us.

And while they’re dialing into caucus-wide conference calls on a regular basis to provide feedback from all across the country to party leaders, it’s hard to have a meaningful two-way conversation over the phone while hundreds of other people on the line are chomping at the bit to say their piece, too.

Congress’ dirty secret

The dirty little secret about Congress is that most of what’s on TV is public relations and not real debate — most deals aren’t struck after someone gives a moving floor speech or presents a compelling argument at a committee hearing. No, deals are brokered in the countless side conversations on the House floor, the huddled whisperings among senators in the “well” during votes, the testy confrontations at caucus meetings and luncheons.

“People would be dumbfounded to know how much business gets done away from the friendly confines of the C-SPAN cameras,” said Jim Manley, who advised Democratic senators for more than two decades.

Senator John Thune, the second highest ranking Republican in that chamber, highlighted lawmakers’ struggle to adjust to remote communications in a recent interview with Roll Call.

“The best information you can gather about what’s going on in your caucus is not by trying to contact people through phones or through staff; it’s when everybody’s on the floor, and you have a chance to huddle,” the South Dakota Republican said.

And therein lies the problem: It’s hard to sit down across from someone and hash out a deal when you can’t sit down across from someone and hash out a deal.

So, now more than ever, rank-and-file members must put their faith in party leaders more than ever to represent their interests.