Ranked-Choice Voting Could Help Prevent a Left-Wing Trump
To capture a political party, you should have to actually capture a political party
Which is a bigger threat to the U.S.: right-wing illiberalism (Trump et al.) or left-wing illiberalism (wokeness)? That’s like being asked “Which would be worse: pressing your face into a moose ass or hearing your dad use the word ‘climax’?” The answers are easy (Trump/Dad climax), but neither option is good.
This week, Michael Gerson became the umpteenth columnist to affirm that, yes, right-wing illiberalism is the bigger threat. Gerson points out that - unlike the bunch of ANTIFA dorks currently trying to burn down a LensCrafters in Portland (my example, not his) - Trumpism has captured a major political party. This is a crucial point. One of the reasons I fear the threat from the left less than the threat from the right is because I think sane people on the left will keep the nutjobs from taking over. But the right-wing nutjob takeover is past-tense, and Republicans are busy building infrastructure that could allow them to steal a close election (while being mostly uninterested in actual infrastructure). It seems impossible, but the worst thing Donald Trump ever does in his life might not have happened yet.
It’s worth remembering how Trump came to be the GOP’s almost-literal center of gravity (“almost-literal” because he is fat1). We can debate whether Trump’s capture of the GOP came out of nowhere or was somewhat foreseeable (Gerson leans towards the former explanation, I favor the latter), but even the “Trump exposed the rot” people agree that Trump winning the nomination wasn’t inevitable. In fact, we might have been spared Trump if the GOP had used a voting system that’s less susceptible to manipulation and better at capturing voters’ preferences.
Let’s think back to the Greatest Shitshow on Earth: the 2016 Republican primary. The early front-runner was - and there is documentation that proves this is true - Jeb (a.k.a. “Jeb!”) Bush. That seems like some arcane, impossible-to-believe historical fact, like how Napoleon was once attacked by 3,000 rabbits. But both things happened. The early Republican primary was a time of mind-bending strangeness: Carly Fiorina had a moment as the putative front-runner, as did Ben “The Reason People Now Say ‘It’s Not Rocket Science’ Instead Of ‘It’s Not Brain Surgery’ Because Apparently Anyone Can Do Brain Surgery” Carson. The pre-voting primary was all over the map - there are college sophomores discovering their sexuality who know what they want better than Republicans in late-2015. And Trump was mostly assumed to be a sideshow.
Then Iowa came, and Trump lost. Many thought that this was the moment that Trump would be presented with the Goofball Republican Primary Footnote Award (notable past winners include Steve Forbes and Herman Cain). But then Trump won New Hampshire and continued to poll well in South Carolina. Of course, Trump won New Hampshire while getting only 36 percent of the vote; the rest was split between Ted Cruz, Marco Rubio, a still-technically-alive Jeb Bush, John Kasich, and someone named Chris Christie (a Google search yielded no results). Cruz - who had won Iowa - was a distant third. Trump was suddenly the front-runner, but it wasn’t clear who was second.
Late February/early March of 2016 was a critical moment; the Republican nomination was decided in these weeks. There was a strong “anyone but Trump” vote, but they were split between Kasich, Rubio, Cruz, and - to a lesser extent - Ben Carson, who was perhaps just too sleepy to file the paperwork to drop out. This was an insane moment in American history: We were debating whether Ted Cruz was the zodiac killer, Marco Rubio was test-driving a new career as a roast joke comic, and Trump used national air time to defend the size of his dick. If the founders envisioned all of that and still gave us this system, then they were some truly sick fucks. And the deeply-unfunny punchline was that none of the not-Trump candidates would drop out; they continued to argue that someone else should drop out and continued to split the anti-Trump vote several ways. Between February 20 and March 15, 32 states and territories voted, and Trump won a majority in exactly one: That famous populist stronghold, the Northern Mariana Islands. Trump’s average vote share during that stretch was 34 percent. And yet, he built a commanding delegate lead, and though Rubio and Carson dropped out after March 15, Kasich and Cruz continued to split the anti-Trump vote for another two months. By the time Kasich called it quits in May, the contest was over.
Trump might have won even if the GOP had used a system that didn’t allow the non-Trump candidates to spoil each other. Trump won majorities in the Trump/Cruz/Kasich April primaries; there’s not a clear “it was just a glitch!” argument here (sorry to add to the bad news, Never-Trumpers). But Trump’s path was certainly made easier by his opponents sticking around too long. Ironically, the 2016 primary saga may have denied Trump the chance to run against Bernie Sanders in 2020; Sanders was winning until Buttigieg and Klobuchar - surely influenced by what happened in 2016 - dropped out, which cleared the way for a Bernie vs. Biden matchup that Biden won decisively. No matter what you think about Buttigieg and Klobuchar, you have to admit: They’re not like Ted Cruz. Which is maybe the nicest thing you can say about anybody.
Democrats probably won’t have a competitive primary until at least 2028. That makes this the perfect time to make changes, because no change will be seen as favoring or disfavoring the presumptive favorite: John Hickenlooper. Democrats have tweaked their primary process in recent years, giving voters more power by phasing out Superdelegates and making voting easier by replacing caucuses with primaries. This is good, because it’s consistent with Democrats’ push to make voting easier and more meaningful, and also because it’s...you know...good. But more changes would help. A system that depends on candidates dropping out in a timely fashion to produce a candidate that voters truly support is not ideal. That’s especially true when you remember that anyone running for president is, by definition, a colossal egomaniac - normal brains simply don’t think “I should have the nuclear codes!” And while it’s true that Buttigieg and Klobuchar bowed out, Bloomberg and Warren hung on through Super Tuesday for reasons known only to them -- neither won anything, except for Bloomberg winning American Samoa. And yes, my next column will be: What the Fuck Is Up With These Island Protectorates Voting for Rich Guys From New York?
There’s a partial solution to this problem: ranked-choice voting, sometimes called “instant-runoff voting”, sometimes called “the only dinner conversation topic worse than partial-birth abortion.” Believe it or not, by writing this column about ranked-choice voting, I’m jumping into the middle of a white-hot internet fight: the ranked-choice voting versus “score then instant-runoff” (STAR) voting debate. RCV vs. STAR voting is Voting Twitter’s version of Star Wars vs. Star Trek, except that the Star Wars/Star Trek people view the RCV/STAR people as tragic nerds. By entering this discussion at all, I’m setting myself up to get large numbers of angry DMs and self-published white papers. But to make a long story short, both systems seek to solve the “spoiler” problem by having voters rank multiple candidates according to preference. Again: Getting deep into the RCV vs. STAR debate is not something I want to do. It’s probably the only thing I would rather do less than hear my dad use the word “climax”. In fact, here are some of my preferences as they would appear on an RCV ballot:
For me, “lick a light socket” is the clear winner here. The type of light socket isn’t specified, but really: 120V, 240V, AC, DC...doesn’t matter, still better than the other stuff. Rimming a moose would at least be an anecdote, so that’s #2 for me. I find dancing to be a cruel mockery of all of my physical and psychological shortcomings, so that gets third. A distant fourth is watching George Clooney mope his way through a shitty reverse-Martian plot on the way to the most “who cares?”-y reveal in movie history in Midnight Sky. And I’ve already discussed numbers five and six.
If this election ever happened - which seems unlikely but you never know - here’s how it would work: Ballots would be counted according to each voter’s top choice. If one choice wins a majority (probably Moose Ass), then the voters have spoken clearly and that’s the end. But if there’s no majority, the option with the fewest votes is eliminated, and the votes are counted again. Voters who picked the eliminated choice have their vote go to their second choice. So, in my hypothetical, if Lick A Light Socket got the fewest first-place votes in Round One - which is possible because not many people have seen Midnight Sky - my vote would transfer to Moose Ass. The second round goes just like the first: If there’s a majority, it’s over. But if there’s no majority and Moose Ass places last - completely fucking impossible if you’ve seen the totally unearned sing-along to Sweet Caroline in Midnight Sky - then my vote would fall to Dance. The process repeats until there’s a clear majority.
The counting process is complex, but voting is easy; voters just have to rank candidates according to preference. And RCV does solve the “spoiler” problem; voters don’t have to worry that voting for their favorite candidate will help a candidate they hate. To put that in real-world terms: In 2020, a voter who loved Warren, liked Sanders, and hated Biden wouldn’t have had to worry that voting for Warren might elect Biden. Likewise, voters who wanted Biden, Buttigieg, or Klobuchar - but not Warren or Sanders - could have favored the moderates. Voters with a thing for embarrassing New York mayors wouldn’t have had to choose between Bloomberg and de Blasio. And new-age wackos could have centered their chakra, hopped on their spirit cloud, and transferred possession of their soul crystal to both Tulsi Gabbard and Marianne Williamson.
This Tuesday, New York Democrats will choose their candidate for mayor using RCV. It’s a perfect time to use ranked-choice, because the field is a mix of leftists, moderates, whatever Andrew Yang is, and, uh…”unchartables”. RCV will prevent a niche candidate from grabbing the nomination with 30 percent support. Various places around the country already use RCV, and before the STAR Vote Posse saddles up: Here’s a link to places that use STAR vote. Though if you’re tempted to click on the RCV link or the STAR link, allow me to offer these links for a home wine-making course and adult ultimate frisbee leagues and humbly suggest that you spend your life doing those things instead.
RCV wouldn’t totally solve the problem of spoiler candidates hanging around too long; as it says in Matthew 26:11: “The Tom Steyers, you will always have with ye.” But it would help. And it would reduce the likelihood of the seven-layered hell of a brokered convention. There are good arguments for keeping the early contests the way they are, because they’re less about apportioning delegates and more about determining frontrunners. But middle and later states should consider following the lead of the “Big Four” - Alaska, Hawaii, Kansas, and Wyoming - which already use RCV.
Trump didn’t have to happen. Jeremy Corbyn - who benefitted from Labour’s odd voting process and perhaps didn’t have much support from Labour’s rank and file - didn’t have to happen. I’ve expressed my worries about the Democratic Party being taken over by crazies, but to be clear: I think whomever the most voters support should be the nominee. If that happens to be, say, Tulsi Gabbard - truly the Midnight Sky of the 2020 field - then so be it. But to lead a political party, you should have to actually win a majority of support within that party. No sneaking in through the side door due to procedural quirks. Candidate Gabbard would be bad, but Candidate-Gabbard-who-is-really-only-supported-by-30-percent-of-the-Democratic-Party would be a “Dad saying ‘climax’”-level awful event.
I’ll probably spell out my feelings on this topic in detail at some point, but briefly: I am against fat-shaming and lookism in general. BUT: Donald Trump is the single biggest violator of this principle in the world. Yet our precept against lookism/fat shaming - the very same principle that Trump violates almost on a daily basis - prevents us from highlighting his hypocrisy by pointing out that he, himself, is a fat, fat man. So, I favor waving this principle exclusively for Trump.