Welcome to Common Ground Democracy
We are all familiar with the blue-red divide in American politics today. And we constantly hear about this divide growing wider and deeper. I’m sure you can think of examples to support this impression.
We also know that many Americans are discontented with this blue-red dichotomy. The desire for a third alternative has never been higher, according public opinion surveys. Yet America’s electoral system is built for two-party competition, with no room for a third—as I explored in my book Presidential Elections and Majority Rule.
This point applies not just to presidential elections. Think about the upcoming U.S. Senate election in Arizona. It has the potential to be a three-candidate race using procedures ill-equipped to handle three candidates.
Kyrsten Sinema is the incumbent Senator. She used to be a Democrat. But she switched to being an independent after Representative Ruben Gallegos indicated he would challenge her from the left in the primary for the Democratic nomination. He viewed her as straying too far to the right.
Kari Lake is likely to be the Republican nominee. She’s the former TV broadcaster who ran for governor in 2022 with Donald Trump’s strong endorsement because she was one of his most vociferous supporters amplifying his false claim that the 2020 presidential election was stolen. She also falsely claimed she lost the gubernatorial election because it too was stolen from her.
So Arizona’s Senate election could be a three-way race between, from left to right, Gallego, Sinema, and Lake. If so, it’s unlikely that any of the three would win a majority of the votes—meaning more than 50%. Sinema may decide not to run; but if she does, current polling indicates she’s likely to come in third, with maybe as little as 20% of the votes. It’s debatable whether her presence in the race would harm Gallego more than Lake, or vice versa.
Whatever you personally think about any or all of these three politicians, it is an interesting and important question of which candidate should win if all three run and none win more than 50%. The basic American electoral method is that whichever candidate receives the most votes, whether or not a majority, wins the election. Sometimes called “first past the post”—think of a horse race, with the winner being whichever horse comes in first—this system of electing the candidate with the largest plurality of votes can result in a winner whom a majority of voters don’t want to hold the office. Imagine, for example, Gallego and Sinema splitting a large majority of votes—say, 60% or even more—but Lake winning the election because she has more than either of the other two, even though all of the Gallego and Sinema voters really don’t want Lake to win. (Or the same situation could happen in reverse, with the Sinema and Lake voters splitting a majority, causing Gallego to win, even though a majority believe his views too progressive.)
We can consider the issue more generally. Imagine any electorate divided this way: 40% favor Blue, 20% favor Purple, and 40% favor Red. Suppose, further, that all the Blue voters really don’t want Red to win, while Purple would be an acceptable second-best. Similarly, all the Red voters intensely don’t want Blue to win, and they too would find Purple an acceptable second-best. Meanwhile, the Purple voters don’t want either Blue or Red, viewing both as too extreme in opposite ways, but if forced to choose half would begrudgingly support Blue while the other half would tepidly support Red.
In this scenario, which candidate should be elected? It is not an easy question and will require us to think deeply about the fundamental principles of democracy. What does it mean to treat all voters equally? How best to identify and tally their preferences?
The imaginary hypothetical is structured so that the electorate is evenly divided. Exactly 40% support either Blue and Red, and exactly another 10% of all voters would support each if Purple’s 20% is forced to choose between the two. Democracy is not very good with 50-50 ties; it needs to flip a coin.
But would the situation be any easier if it were nudged slightly in one direction or the other. Suppose Blue has 41% and Red 39% (and Purple still has 20%), or vice versa. Would that make it clear that Blue (or Red) should win, when 59% of voters really don’t want that result? Or what if Blue and Red still each have 40%, but the Purple voters split 11% one way and 9% the other way if they are forced to make that choice? Would that be the best way to decide the outcome of this election, given the preferences of voters?
An argument can be made that Purple should win even though only 20% of voters want that the most—indeed, only half as many as want either Blue or Red to prevail. No one is upset if Purple wins. A majority of voters prefer Purple to Blue, because the 40% who want Red really don’t want Blue and prefer Purple as an acceptable second-best. The same, again, is true on the other side: a majority prefer Purple to Red, because the 40% who want Blue really don’t want Red and would settle for Purple as an acceptable second-best. So, maybe Purple should win the election even though in last place with only 20%, while both other candidates have twice as much support!
Yet that conclusion sits uneasily for obvious reasons—especially for Americans who are so familiar with their traditional “first past the post” system of electing whoever has the most votes. Electing the candidate with the fewest would seem exactly backwards, profoundly undemocratic.
We aren’t going to resolve this issue today, in this first Common Ground Democracy post. On the contrary, it is simply introducing the topic, which will require us to consider some philosophy and even a bit of basic math. We will need to look at the history of this topic, as we’ve inherited a tradition of democratic theory and practice upon which we can build.
Our journey, while sometimes challenging and without a clear destination, will be worthwhile. Its mission, after all, is to discover how we can better choose together the government that will make the rules for us all.