Voting is important. It isn’t sacred.

It’s time to vote again, to carry out a basic task of democracy. Or, as some would have it, to fulfill our sacred duty as Americans. This sort of elevated language for voting is common in our society. And indeed, the ability to vote—the right under the law, the access and time to get to the polls, protection from suppression and intimidation once you do—is a hard-won cornerstone of democracy. As for an individual’s choice to exercise this right, that’s important, too—but is it helpful to talk about it in such high, quasi-religious terms? There are at least two reasons to think that it isn’t.

First, voting as a sacred duty suggests the need for a deeply personal, even spiritual alignment with a candidate. Americans often bemoan their electoral choice between “the lesser of two evils” as a soul-crushing compromise, a challenge to their integrity. But why must one’s vote be so deeply felt? In the US system, a general election presents voters with a straightforward task: choose pragmatically between two main candidates. Call your choice “good” or call it “less evil”; it doesn’t really matter. You’re voicing a preference, not a moral conviction.

The other problem is that elevated language positions voting as the pinnacle of a person’s civic life. In reality it’s just a first step—necessary but not remotely sufficient. Voting merely scratches the surface of political participation.