At the heart of the Scottish independence referendum is the philosophical problem of choice. For voters faced with the question "should Scotland become an independent country?", it comes down to a weighty yes or no. There is something bracingly Aristotelian about such a binary. It's all so black or white – so either/or. It's like being told you can have your chips either Glasgow-style with vinegar, or Edinburgh-style with sauce. It's contrary of me, I know, but in matters of sovereignty and suppers, being forced to choose makes me wonder why I can't have a little of both.

Still, at least we have a year to decide. Reminded of this timescale, some in Scotland will exhale a weary sigh. The conventional wisdom holds that voters are tiring of a debate that has become increasingly shrill and, on occasion, nasty. It is hard to argue with this characterisation given that each side seems to impugn the worst motives to the other.

But the emphasis on division underplays a range of opinion in Scotland that is much less monochrome. Sheltering under the volley of phlegm between Yes Scotland and Better Together, can be found the much neglected "mibbes aye" and "mibbes naw" camps, together with their beleaguered but abundant kinsfolk, the "devo-maxers" and the "indy-liters". There may be a few weary souls among the head-scratchers and the eye-rollers, but the real story is that this is a choice people care about.

The prospect of this seismic vote has triggered a wave of creative and intellectual energy that has not been seen in Scotland for a generation.

The electorate are het up for the good reason: that it's been a long time since they have had the chance to be meaningful agents of political change. Until the advent of the Scottish parliament we had grown used to getting governments we didn't elect. Even after devolution, when the party political landscape remained dominated by incrementally different proponents of neoliberal capitalism, it was often hard to stay awake in the ordinary course of electioneering.

This time it's rather different. For the first time in my own adult life (and my electoral eligibility predates the invention of the earliest webpage), this is a vote that will have long-term consequences. It's not just a matter of what kind of politics, but what kind of polity. In other words, we face a meta-choice – a choice that sets the enabling conditions for all subsequent choices.

Putting the union in question somehow permits other fundamental debates that are not necessarily about the referendum, but are catalysed by its question. Why is the distribution of land in Scotland the most unequal in the developed world? How are we going to keep the lights on without fuelling climate change? And what kind of supra-national ties – Nato, EU, Commonwealth – might best serve a national interest committed to nuclear disarmament?

Some of these discussions, like those of the cross-party Scottish affairs committee on land reform, have been taken up through the parliamentary system. But much of the debate lies well beyond the oversight of the official campaigns, the main parties or, for that matter, the "old" media. It is evident instead in emerging networks and alliances, like Bella Caledonia, National Collective and the Common Weal project. Though often under-reported, these groups are awash with ideas about democratic renewal that are unmatched by proponents of the union.

Scottish politics has become fun again. There is a desire to experiment and that is not likely to go away, regardless of the indyref outcome. As Steve Richards argued here last week, Scotland is already on its own path. The one certainty is that neither camp can exactly anticipate the consequences of a "Yes" vote. It is a little like the moment when a child wonders: "What does this button do?" Press it and you'll find out: maybe nothing; maybe something fun. The consequences are almost secondary to the agency represented in the act; curiosity has its risks but there is no progress without it.

A few years ago, the philosopher Slavoj Žižek famously mused on a different kind of button pressing. "It is a well-known fact," he wrote, "that the "close door' button in most lifts is a dysfunctional placebo, put there simply to give individuals the impression that they are somehow participating." Though I'm not sure I'd trust Žižek's engineering knowledge (he may be the "Elvis of" many things, but hydraulic traction isn't one), this remains a bleak but persuasive metaphor for our ordinary political process.

The opposite is true of the indyref. It's a binary choice, the terms of which may not be entirely of our making. But the choice is real enough. I have no more knowledge than anyone else of what this button might do. Am I willing to push it? Mibbes, aye.