So you think the Electoral College needs to go the way of the dodo? Maybe you’re right. But the Electoral College has endured since 1787. And it’s here to stay.
But before we get into the simple argument for why the Electoral College must persist, allow me a rather lengthy tangent. In the following extended analogy, I’ve laid out bullet points demonstrating how the journey to the Presidency parallels that of a marriage. We’ll traverse the typical steps along the path of love: courting, proposal, wedding, marriage, and (the fate of half of all marriages) divorce. I promise we’ll circle back to the Electoral College at the end.
Courting
Marriage: You date various people to find out what is and is not important in a relationship.
President: Politicians (typically) run for local offices early in their careers, learning as they go.
M: You have an “experimental” college phase.
P: Politicians switch from Democrat or Republican to an Independent, and back again.
M: You enjoy a 3-some every now and again.
P: They realize that, for better or worse, the United States is a 2-party system.
M: You eventually want to settle down, have 1.93 kids, a home with a picket fence, etc.
P: Decide politics is their life’s ambition, and aim to ascend the ladder toward the presidency.
Proposal
M: You’re on one knee, box open, love in the air, possibilities abound, the beginning of forever.
P: Submit candidacy for their Party’s nomination, yearning to forever be called Mr. President.
M: Your true love—not yet over her ex-beau—answers, “I have to think about it.” You wait.
P: Dominate the Party’s debates; all other candidates eventually suspend their campaigns.
M: Remind your love of her ex stealing her debit card to further his online gambling addiction.
P: Negative ads run rampant—anything to get even the slightest bump in the polls.
Wedding
M: The big day arrives. You say your wedding vows—promises made to the love of your life.
P: One hand in the air, the other on a Bible, the presidential oath of office is sworn.
M: The best-man & maid-of-honor give their speeches at the reception after your wedding.
P: The opposition Presidential and Vice-Presidential candidates deliver concession speeches.
M: Newlywed ecstasy continues through the honeymoon and the opening of wedding gifts.
P: The president-elect holds fast to achieving all campaign promises as January 20 nears.
(Clever readers will have noticed that the P’s in the previous section aren’t in the proper order. I’m aware you don’t take the oath of office before you win the election. No Presidency or marriage is perfect. Neither is this analogy.)
Marriage
M: Your honeymoon period ends as real life sets in: kids, mortgage, bills, etc.
P: Reality strikes that 535 members of Congress want their say in how the government runs.
M: You forget about your wedding vows. (I even flubbed mine on the day of my ceremony!)
P: The President puts his campaign promises on hold, priorities of the nation taking precedent.
M: Looking back at wedding day photos, you identify that day as the pinnacle of your marriage.
P: The President’s approval rating has never been as high as it was the day of the election.
M: You or your spouse (or both of you) develop that dreaded 7-Year Itch.
P: Nearing the end of the second term, a lame duck President is left with minimal influence.
Divorce
M: One of you cheats and decides they want out of the marriage.
P: The President loses the 2nd term election, or reaches his term limit.
M: You give her whatever she wants in an undisputed divorce settlement because you still love her and just want her to be happy. (This never happens.)
P: The incumbent President happily concedes a close election, content in the knowledge that
the American people have the leader of their choosing. (Neither does this.)
M: You eventually realize the divorce was for the best, and you move on with your life.
P: The new leader pardons the ex-President for his crimes in office, and goes about his life.
So what has all this taught us about the Electoral College? Not much, really. But a 50% divorce rate is evidence that people don’t exactly make the best decisions. With a 50% success rate, we may as well just nominate two candidates, then flip a coin to see who leads the country for the next four years. It’s a mystery why we’d think we could trust a nation of 330 million poor decision makers to elect the most qualified candidate for the most powerful position in the world. When it comes to your individual vote, just like the honey badger, the Electoral College don’t care. Established in the Constitution in 1787, it protects voters from their own poor decisions. The Electoral College remains as necessarily today as it was then.
So, you still think the Electoral College needs revamped? Two of the last five Presidential elections were won by the Republican who received fewer votes than their blue opponent. If we truly want people to get out and vote (or mail them in!), maybe we should find a method where the mantra, Every Vote Matters, holds some semblance of truth. So, I guess, yeah, come to think of it . . . You’re Probably Right.
[007] August 26, 2020