Politicians and special interests have invested nearly $5.5 Billion in the 2008 US national election, making it almost certainly the most expensive election in the history of the world.(1) Certainly the men and women investing that amount of our nation’s wealth are expecting a return on their investment, and perhaps they shall find it. You, however, will not be so lucky when you visit the ballot box on Tuesday.
As an elected officer, I’m not supposed to say this of course, but say it I shall: Your vote next week really doesn’t matter. If you are expecting me to now proceed to qualify this statement, and apply an exception or two, or three, or four, you underestimate the soundness of my conclusion. There will be no qualification. Nevertheless, realizing that I am far from the first author to make such a statement, let me briefly acknowledge various of the traditional arguments before demonstrating the strength of my own case. Those so inclined may skip to the eighth and final reason, which is the only reason that makes a claim to being original.
Reason #1: Neither of the two major party candidates represents me, therefore my vote doesn’t matter. With this election in particular, I can certainly sympathize with this sentiment in a number of local and national races. However, I find this reason missed the real issue. Even if your favorite uncle were running as a candidate, the result would still be the same: your vote on Tuesday really won’t matter.
Reason #2: Voting on November 4th does not apply to me because I have already voted early or by absentee. Nice try. All votes, including absentee ballots, are set aside and not counted until Election Day. Your absentee ballot counts just as much or--I would argue--just as little, as any other ballot.
Reason #3: I am a convicted felon, my vote won’t count because I’m not allowed to vote. My dear voter, you simply lack imagination. Virginia’s democratic governor recently restored voting rights to nearly 2,000 felons living in Virginia, perhaps you are among them. Even if you do not live in Virginia, it is well documented that thousands of felons registered and voted in Florida’s last presidential election, exceeding the margin of victory in that state. In Washington, another state that prohibits felons from voting, over 20,000 criminals are active voters. Have no fear - Your vote counts as much as the next guy! However, lest I inspire false hope, I must return to the fact that it still won’t really matter.(2)
Reason #4: It’s just one vote, and the vote of one person doesn’t matter.
Au contraire. This reasoning is shortsighted. Again, your vote carries just as much weight as the next. Would you be happier if your vote counted twice as much as your neighbor? Three times as much? Be happy that your vote, and your neighbor’s, are valued the same.
Reason #5: I live in one of the 48 states with a winner-take-all system, but not a “battleground” state for the presidential race. The outcome of my state’s vote is not in question, therefore my vote doesn’t matter. Humble voter, if you happen to find yourself in just such a situation, you have my sympathy. Concerning the presidential race, your vote certainly doesn’t seem to carry as much weight as that of your peer who lives in a “battleground” state. Perhaps now is a good time to remember that there are more races at stake than simply the office of President. Every U.S. Representative is up for election, along with 35 U.S. Senators. Perhaps yours is among them. Nevertheless, even if your ballot contained fifty races or referendums (not uncommon in states like California), and the margin of victory was expected to be only a few votes in each race, your vote on November 4th really doesn’t matter.
Reason #6: The nomination process itself is corrupt and prohibits any decent candidates from making it onto the final ballot. I must admit, having witnessed this year’s nomination process first hand, I appreciate this concern as well. Certainly the presidential nomination process of both major parties has seen numerous examples of corruption leading up to this week’s election. National Delegates in Missouri, Louisiana and elsewhere were disqualified simply by fiat because party officers in those states disapproved of the delegates’ chosen presidential candidates. Likewise, in Alaska, Republican Party officials were so distressed by Senator McCain’s dismal showing (of the four candidates he finished in last place, even behind Ron Paul) that they later decided to reapportion delegates to candidates who had already dropped out of the race. Admittedly, these things happen. However---and it brings me no joy to say it---even if this part of the system operated as it should, your vote on Tuesday still won’t really matter.(3)
Reason #7: The Ballot Box itself has been corrupted. I no longer trust the reported election result to match the number of ballots in the box. There’s a decent chance my Election Day ballot won’t even be looked at, much less counted. Seriously, where have all the optimists gone? Is nothing sacred in a democracy anymore? Perhaps you read about the recent security assessment that was performed on Ohio’s vote counting equipment and the Ohio Secretary of State’s response (“I thought I was going to throw up”) when the results were published. Perhaps you noticed the last page newspaper blurb that the U.S. Election Assistance Commission (EAC) recently decertified every single one of the electronic voting machines now being used by state and local governments to count votes.(4) Nevertheless, these voting machines will still be used on November 4th. State governments do not see any other option, and the federal funds that Congress allocated with the Help America Vote Act have already been spent.
And now we turn to the real reason, at least what I happen to believe is the real reason, that the vote on November 4th—yours and mine—lacks significance:
Reason #8: You already voted.
Those who distrust the election process – Take heart! Society has already registered your vote using systems, processes, and methods that are remarkably unsusceptible to fraud. Your voice has been heard. You cannot now vote again in any meaningful way, for you’ve already had your turn.
Today you stand at the altar, ballot in hand, to take your place beside Democracy; in this solemn ceremony we call Election. But what is this? The priest has turned his back and walks away. You cannot wed, for you are already wed to another.
Sadness. You wait in line at the poll, but when you reach the front the worker pulls you aside and asks you what day it is, what year it is, how old you are, and if you are feeling alright. She’s pulls you off to the side so that she can tell you quietly that you have already come through the line earlier, and that the “I voted today" sticker on your jacket is the proof, just as surely and in the same dignified manner that the priest pointed to the ring on your finger before turning and walking away.
If you feel obliged to cry out “not me, not me—I’ve carefully guarded my vote, have looked forward to this day for months,” the politician will surely side with you. Moral indignation will issue forth, demanding that a new ballot be produced. The annulment of previous commitments is in both your interests it seems.
The politician will embrace you, but the economist is apt to offer much less accommodation. Of what value, he asks, is a tax refund that has already been spent before it arrives? Perhaps it is worth the same as a ballot that has already been cast.
But what is the value of a ballot at all? It is nothing more than paper, with little to distinguish it from countless others like it. The ballot itself will soon be burned. The choice itself will live on. But what kind of choice is a vote? Is it a choice for popularity alone – American Idol at taxpayer expense? Is it not itself a ceremony, a symbolic gesture of the kind of government one would have? Good or bad? Weak or strong? Courageous or cowardly? Principled or pragmatic? Transparent or opaque? Constitutional or arbitrary? Accountable or corrupt?
But how can one endeavor to make such choices with a ballot alone? As a symbol of a choice, it is not the choice itself. The ballot is secret, the choice itself must always be public. The symbol will be forgotten, but the choice itself will live on.
A ballot has value once and only once, but the commitment it represents will have daily impact, whether great or small. If reality itself offers little accommodation to the symbol, it seems odd that, as a society, we should trumpet the significance of the symbol as being on par with the choice itself. It cannot be. Only when the commitment is thought to be meaningless can we mistake the symbol for being of equal or similar value.
My contention today is that the commitment has become meaningless; if not in every case, then in the majority of cases. This unfortunate reality has led us to accept the notion that our vote is the most important manner in which we influence the direction of our government. Hogwash!
It has been 1,461 days since the last presidential election. Over that time, you have cast your vote for government a hundred times – no, a thousand times at least. At each point of decision, whether implicitly or explicitly, you have supported either good government or bad. In either case, you have had your influence on the system.
Though it may have escaped your notice, the market has registered your vote in countless ways. We tend to think first of our direct interaction with the government because it is the more tangible. How often did you interact with your elected representatives, declare your support or withhold it, visit their office, place a call, or write a letter? Certainly this type of influence has value (many officials even assign relative point values: e-mail=1 pt., phone call=5 pts., mailed letter=20 pts., visit=50 pts.—you get the idea). A vote, unaccompanied by any of these things over time, can be very much like a popularity contest. The voter makes no commitment to follow-up on the work of his or her representative, and the representative makes no commitment to follow-up on his or her campaign promises. As has been observed throughout history, we tend to get the kind of government we ask for.
However, I want to take this idea of voting one step farther. Even the direct activities above can be seen as symbolic of deeper commitments. The truth is that we are always about the business of choosing the kind of government we prefer. The precedent is set first in one’s personal relationships, which may at first seem to have little, if anything, to do with government. Perhaps we could recast the question as follows: Do we welcome accountability from those close to us, or do we run from it? Do we consistently value courage and moral fortitude in others, or do we only value it when it doesn’t seem to cost us anything? Do we decry only the pragmatism we see in our enemies, or do we decry the same in our friends and even in our own life?
By the time November 4th rolls around, we have had over 1,400 days in which to determine not only the kind of government we will tolerate, but the kind of government we will willingly support and invest in. We have made lasting choices in our churches, in our social clubs, in our political parties. By the time we mark our ballot we have had a multitude of opportunities to influence the tone and climate of our local community through service organizations, town hall events, parent-teacher groups, homeowner’s associations, and the like. Election Day isn’t a wedding ceremony. Actually, it’s more like a reception.* The vote? Your vote is simply a symbolic confirmation (or rejection) of a thousand decisions you made before Election Day. If you truly want your vote to count, cast it when it means something, and follow it up with the ceremony later—Else, the ceremony really won’t mean much at all.
In politics, as in life, lasting progress is not achieved through a one-time attempt at forcing or changing a decision to the one you want, but rather by influencing the logic and decision process well ahead of the decision point. You see, in a country such as ours, you will end up with the government you have chosen. I think it important to point out at this juncture that, for any number of reasons, that government may have very little in common with the choices marked on your printed (or electronic) ballot.
* Perhaps the analogy seems a poor fit due in part to our incoherent concept of modern weddings. We court people we don’t know. We promise to marry people we do, but then give ourselves the liberty of breaking that promise at any point in time before a public official affixes a government seal to the document. And yet, after the seal is affixed, we can file a no-fault, which is supposed to somehow get us out of the promise if it's already been sealed. Is marriage a commitment, or a government document? Sometimes it's hard to figure out the answer.
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(1) http://www.opensecrets.org
(2) http://www.talkleft.com/st
http://www.foxnews.com/sto
http://community.marketwat
(3) http://www.youtube.com/wat
(4) http://www.computerworld.c
(5) http://www.pbs.org/vote200
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