The 2025 papal conclave opened on 7 May 2025. After Pope Francis’s death on 21 April, 133 cardinal electors filed into the Sistine Chapel, swore an oath of secrecy, and surrendered every connected device.
Day-one voting produced black smoke — no two-thirds majority — exactly as Axios live-blogged when the plume drifted above Michelangelo’s roof. Balloting continues up to four times daily until one name secures 89 votes. No tallies leak — the only public data are smoke color and, finally, the bells of St. Peter’s, as The Washington Post notes.
The rules are blunt. Support staff take the same secrecy oath and risk automatic excommunication
if they spill. Electronic jammers cocoon the chapel; even hearing-aid channels are scanned. Each ballot is handwritten, folded to mask penmanship, counted by hand, then burned with chemicals that tint the smoke black or white.
Those chemicals were introduced only after 2005’s “gray smoke” confusion, when incomplete combustion left onlookers guessing whether Benedict XVI had been elected. In short, every design choice aims at clarity of outcome but total silence in process.
Until that moment, the public learns nothing else about the voting results – no tallies, no frontrunner hints – just plumes of smoke drifting above the Sistine’s roof. A bell toll from St. Peter’s Basilica often accompanies the white smoke, to ensure the signal is unambiguous. For now, though, only dark smoke and suspense fill the Vatican sky.
Why the Vatican’s slow, secret vote still matters
Scroll-happy culture loves an instant tally. We tap a Twitter poll, watch the numbers jump, and call it “the voice of the people.” But popularity isn’t the same thing as judgment — and that’s where the conclave offers a quiet lesson.
Picture the scene: 133 cardinals, no phones, no pundits, no live leaderboard. Ballots are handwritten, folded, and burned. Outside, millions refresh news feeds and see only black or white smoke. It feels ancient, even stubbornly opaque. Yet the very hush is what gives each vote its weight. No cardinal worries about trending hashtags or a viral smear; he votes, quite literally, on conscience alone.
Contrast that with algorithm democracy. One early up-vote on Reddit can snowball a post into sudden stardom. Twitter polls tilt when a single influencer retweets at the right hour. What looks like consensus is often a quirk of timing and code—fast, loud, forgettable.
Then there’s the matter of space to think. Cameras change how people talk; studies show groups under constant public gaze share less and play it safe. The cardinals’ cloister flips that script. Behind a sealed door they can argue, doubt, even change their minds without performing for an audience. The goal isn’t speed; it’s a two-thirds supermajority, a level of agreement most modern elections never reach.
None of this means every institution should bolt the doors. Sunlight still keeps power honest. But some decisions—especially ones meant to unify—benefit from deep focus instead of instant feedback. In a world addicted to realtime reaction, the conclave whispers a counter-cultural truth: sometimes democracy works best when it pauses, reflects, and speaks only when it’s ready.
Secrecy that guards freedom
To an audience raised on livestream politics and instant X polls, the Vatican’s blackout can feel medieval.
Yet the conclave enforces three democratic virtues missing from most internet voting: anonymity, super-majority consensus and deliberative time.
- Anonymity over algorithms. A 2013 Science experiment found that a single early upvote on a Reddit-style forum raised a post’s final score by 25%. By contrast, conclave ballots are simultaneous and secret. No cardinal sees a live leaderboard, so herd bias never forms.
- Super-majority beats plurality. John Paul II’s 1996 constitution Universi Dominici Gregis insists on a two-thirds threshold. Many national races crown winners who face 48% hostility on day one. The conclave forces genuine coalition-building.
- Time to think. Research on “evaluation apprehension” shows groups speak less and stick to safer choices when outsiders are watching. The cardinals’ phone-free exile lets them argue and change minds without Twitter blowback.
Mystery can build trust
Total transparency is often lionized, yet it can shred trust by televising every feint and feud before decisions mature.
The 2018 Cambridge Analytica files showed how “open” social platforms can also be weaponized to tilt public sentiment.
The conclave reverses the polarity: opaque deliberation, crystalline outcome. When the smoke turns white, Catholics see a verdict, not a play-by-play, and even skeptics tend to grant the new pontiff a honeymoon pause.
Mystery has longevity benefits, too. The 1978 conclaves chose John Paul I in two days and, after his sudden death, John Paul II in eight. Neither campaign leaked front-runner gossip, sparing the Church months of factional sniping. Contrast that with modern primary seasons, where front-runner status mutates hourly under the glare of polling dashboards.
Lessons for the algorithmic age
A few Vatican habits could improve secular decision-making:
- Staged transparency. Publish agendas and final votes, but keep interim debate private. Candid speech thrives in safe rooms.
- Higher consent thresholds. Supermajority rules for big-ticket legislation or Supreme Court confirmations could dampen winner-takes-all whiplash.
- Deliberative sabbaticals. Corporate boards, city councils, maybe even social-media moderators, could mandate 24 hours offline before major votes.
Waiting for white smoke
As this piece posts, cardinals may cast two more ballots today. If the plume is black, we wait again, If it turns white, a curtain sways, and a new voice says, Habemus Papam.
In that moment, billions will feel a rare emotion online: surprise.
In the end, the papal conclave is a reminder that not all great decisions need to be Twitterfied. Its ancient methods underscore a countercultural truth: that sometimes a quiet consensus, reached away from the spotlight, can better serve an institution’s unity and purpose than a thousand loud, hot takes.
Whatever one’s theology, the conclave demonstrates a counter-cultural truth: some choices improve when made in disciplined silence, not in the algorithm’s glare.
