Swingers
11/03/11 Filed in: Society | Human Nature
I blew my chance to be on the evening news. It was a cool but sunny Tuesday morning many Septembers ago. I was walking from my bus to the office.
A woman, who I only vaguely recognized from one of the local TV stations, with a microphone was walking along the sidewalk followed by a cameraman. She called out to me, "Sir? Did you vote today?"
"Yes," I answered.
"Can we ask you a couple questions about the primary process?"
I agreed, and they positioned themselves to film me. The first question was, "Turn out for primaries is always very low. Was there a burning issue that compelled you to vote today?"
"Um, no. I always vote. It's election day. I show up..."
At this point the woman deflated, looking both annoyed and disappointed. She made a cutting motion with her hand toward her neck. The cameraman turned off the camera.
I finished my sentence, "...because it's what being a citizen means."
They were already walking away. "Thank you, sir," she called over her shoulder.
Obviously I didn't fit the story she was hoping to tell that day. I remember feeling a bit insulted. Why shouldn't someone who remembers to vote all the time, not just in the "major" elections be worth talking to?
All of this came to mind recently when I was trying to explain to a friend why I don't believe that the tea-bagger movement1 is an indication of a change in the electorate. I was trying to explain that the angry people— demanding that government stay out of things while insisting they have a right to all the government services they want, and should be able to get them no matter how much taxes have been cut—have always been there. And they've always been about the same proportion of the population. The difference is that most of them aren't regular voters. They haven't been motivated to turn out.
He countered that he knew people who were faithful voters that always turn out who support those people. That's true, but it has nothing to do with what I was saying.
The people he mentioned have been faithful voters for decades, and have been voting that way year after year. Them showing up and voting that way in 2010 isn't what swayed the election.
Just as voters like me, who turn out for every single primary, general, and special election, always voting in favor of progressive candidates and causes, didn't sway the election in 2008.
Pundits attribute the waves to seem to sweep elections one way or another to swing voters. Swing voters are allegedly the 10%-20% people who are moderate, and can be swayed to the conservative or liberal side by a good argument or by various events. These swing voters will happily turn in a ballot that jumps back and forth between the parties.
There's one problem with that. Those voters don't exist. At least not in those numbers. We know this because, while we take great pains to make ballots anonymous, so that we don't know who filled out a particular ballot, for many years now the states have paid attention to how voting goes on each ballot. About 95% of the ballots cast in every state general election are straight-party ticket ballots.
So while about 10% of the people say that they vote both parties, at least half of them are either delusional or lying. That might be a bit harsh. I'm sure that all those people who describe themselves that way do at least consider candidates from their non-usual party. They just nearly never actually vote for them.
And I say at least half because, even though I know that most of the time my own ballot is one-sided, I have cast votes for candidates of "the other party" about four times in the last twenty-five years (usually for offices such as State Attorney General or Secretary of State). So there are voters like myself who do not describe ourselves as moderates, but we account for some of that 5% of ballots that aren't straight party-line.
No, the real source of the "swing" are the occasional voters—people who don't turn out faithfully every election. Some are people who mean to vote, but they were busy, or traveling, or just forgot. Others vote fairly frequently, but sometimes, if the candidates on their side are particularly off-putting, they decide to stay home.
There is a swing, but the statistics indicate that the swing is about motivation. Any individual occasional voter tends to vote toward one side or the other, just like the voters who never miss an election. When events or issues motivate them, more of one side makes a concerted effort to vote, and less of the other side bother. The vote swings.
Exit polls may ask whether a person voted in the previous election, and sometimes even ask how they voted the previous time. These answers sometimes lend credence to the notion of those swing voters, because someone might say they voted for one party this time may claim they voted for the other last time.
We can't just take their word for it. Case in point: Richard Nixon won re-election in 1972 with just a bit over 60% of the vote. Yet in polls just two years later, only 40% of those who said they voted in the election admitted they had voted for Nixon. And two years after that, more than 70% claimed they had voted for Nixon's opponent, George McGovern.
Which isn't to say that voters don't cross party lines. They just do it less often than they recall. Or when they do, they go whole-hog: one election voting a straight party-line ballot one way, the next the other. They forget that they missed an election here or there. They remember nearly voting for someone that they didn't.
We like to think of ourselves as being ahead of the curve, or more open-minded than our neighbors. We shade the truth to feel better about our choices, to reinforce the notions we hold today, that we may not have believed yesterday. In the end, most of the swinging happens only in our heads.
1 I refuse to call them "the tea party" because I don't wish to besmirch the memory of the 1776-era revolutionaries by implying there is a connection between the two.
Originally published 11 March, 2011.
A woman, who I only vaguely recognized from one of the local TV stations, with a microphone was walking along the sidewalk followed by a cameraman. She called out to me, "Sir? Did you vote today?"
"Yes," I answered.
"Can we ask you a couple questions about the primary process?"
I agreed, and they positioned themselves to film me. The first question was, "Turn out for primaries is always very low. Was there a burning issue that compelled you to vote today?"
"Um, no. I always vote. It's election day. I show up..."
At this point the woman deflated, looking both annoyed and disappointed. She made a cutting motion with her hand toward her neck. The cameraman turned off the camera.
I finished my sentence, "...because it's what being a citizen means."
They were already walking away. "Thank you, sir," she called over her shoulder.
Obviously I didn't fit the story she was hoping to tell that day. I remember feeling a bit insulted. Why shouldn't someone who remembers to vote all the time, not just in the "major" elections be worth talking to?
All of this came to mind recently when I was trying to explain to a friend why I don't believe that the tea-bagger movement1 is an indication of a change in the electorate. I was trying to explain that the angry people— demanding that government stay out of things while insisting they have a right to all the government services they want, and should be able to get them no matter how much taxes have been cut—have always been there. And they've always been about the same proportion of the population. The difference is that most of them aren't regular voters. They haven't been motivated to turn out.
He countered that he knew people who were faithful voters that always turn out who support those people. That's true, but it has nothing to do with what I was saying.
The people he mentioned have been faithful voters for decades, and have been voting that way year after year. Them showing up and voting that way in 2010 isn't what swayed the election.
Just as voters like me, who turn out for every single primary, general, and special election, always voting in favor of progressive candidates and causes, didn't sway the election in 2008.
Pundits attribute the waves to seem to sweep elections one way or another to swing voters. Swing voters are allegedly the 10%-20% people who are moderate, and can be swayed to the conservative or liberal side by a good argument or by various events. These swing voters will happily turn in a ballot that jumps back and forth between the parties.
There's one problem with that. Those voters don't exist. At least not in those numbers. We know this because, while we take great pains to make ballots anonymous, so that we don't know who filled out a particular ballot, for many years now the states have paid attention to how voting goes on each ballot. About 95% of the ballots cast in every state general election are straight-party ticket ballots.
So while about 10% of the people say that they vote both parties, at least half of them are either delusional or lying. That might be a bit harsh. I'm sure that all those people who describe themselves that way do at least consider candidates from their non-usual party. They just nearly never actually vote for them.
And I say at least half because, even though I know that most of the time my own ballot is one-sided, I have cast votes for candidates of "the other party" about four times in the last twenty-five years (usually for offices such as State Attorney General or Secretary of State). So there are voters like myself who do not describe ourselves as moderates, but we account for some of that 5% of ballots that aren't straight party-line.
No, the real source of the "swing" are the occasional voters—people who don't turn out faithfully every election. Some are people who mean to vote, but they were busy, or traveling, or just forgot. Others vote fairly frequently, but sometimes, if the candidates on their side are particularly off-putting, they decide to stay home.
There is a swing, but the statistics indicate that the swing is about motivation. Any individual occasional voter tends to vote toward one side or the other, just like the voters who never miss an election. When events or issues motivate them, more of one side makes a concerted effort to vote, and less of the other side bother. The vote swings.
Exit polls may ask whether a person voted in the previous election, and sometimes even ask how they voted the previous time. These answers sometimes lend credence to the notion of those swing voters, because someone might say they voted for one party this time may claim they voted for the other last time.
We can't just take their word for it. Case in point: Richard Nixon won re-election in 1972 with just a bit over 60% of the vote. Yet in polls just two years later, only 40% of those who said they voted in the election admitted they had voted for Nixon. And two years after that, more than 70% claimed they had voted for Nixon's opponent, George McGovern.
Which isn't to say that voters don't cross party lines. They just do it less often than they recall. Or when they do, they go whole-hog: one election voting a straight party-line ballot one way, the next the other. They forget that they missed an election here or there. They remember nearly voting for someone that they didn't.
We like to think of ourselves as being ahead of the curve, or more open-minded than our neighbors. We shade the truth to feel better about our choices, to reinforce the notions we hold today, that we may not have believed yesterday. In the end, most of the swinging happens only in our heads.
Most of the change we think we see in life is due to truths being in and out of favor.—Robert Frost
1 I refuse to call them "the tea party" because I don't wish to besmirch the memory of the 1776-era revolutionaries by implying there is a connection between the two.
Originally published 11 March, 2011.