So … Nov. 4, right?

It took me a while to find out, but I guess this is when we are all going to do our civic duty and vote. Well, so long as we have time to kill and nothing good is on TV.

If we do decide to wander to our respective polling places, we will all certainly feel that rush of patriotic sentiment that accompanies voting. After all, our private games of connect the dots — make that arrows — are crucial to our government by the people, for the people, of the people, and will fundamentally impact ourselves and our society.

OK, not so much.

But, even if voting isn’t the crucial event that society would have us believe, it is good to know that every American, no matter who they are or what they’ve done, can have their voice heard.

Scratch that. The odd thing about our American democracy is that voting rights started with exclusion, and have only moved to inclusion through turbulent historical processes. Initially, voting was restricted to property owners, then the right and ability to vote was extended to the unpropertied, racial minorities (on paper), women and finally to racial minorities (realistically).

This historical trend of inclusion has come in the face of the idea that only the right sort of people should vote, instead of the idea that everyone should vote.

The same battle continues today, as some people are still excluded from voting, albeit more because of what they’ve allegedly done, and not necessarily who they are.

Felony disenfranchisement laws are laws that exclude felons and ex-felons from voting as a sort of punishment. According to the Sentencing Project, 5.3 million individuals are currently disenfranchised because of felony disenfranchisement laws.

This statistic representing 1 in 40 Americans is primarily because of the fact that every state and the District of Columbia, except for Vermont and Maine, keeps felons from voting while imprisoned. Many states also deny felons the vote during periods of probation and parole.

A select few states, including Arizona, go a step further and deny ex-felons from voting until they petition to have their rights restored. Virginia and Kentucky even go so far as to ban ex-felons from voting for life.

The idea behind these laws is either that felons will better conform to society when they have to work to get one of their most crucial rights back, or that removing one of their most precious rights is just punishment for so wronging society.

I’m not so sure about either of these justifications, but another question deals with all of this in a more direct way: Is disenfranchisement in any form really worth it?

Whether or not voting actually is a crucial part of American public life, justifying any disenfranchisement assumes for whatever reason that it is in the people’s interest to keep other people from voting.

This logic seems a little suspicious. Who exactly are “the people,” and why would “the people” not want “people” to vote?

Granted, there may be some good in punishment, but telling people not to vote and saying the government is by, for and of the people seems a little bit contradictory.

It’s a little too late to go gather signatures. But when I vote in November, I’m going to remember that my voting is a privilege, though it really shouldn’t be.

Brett still has the right to vote. Suggestions on how he should lose that right will be accepted at blivingo@asu.edu.