Most Voters Are Mere Bystanders This Election

by Steve Chapman

California is the biggest state, but Al Gore hasn't been there since Sept. 20, and he hasn't set foot in the second-biggest state, Texas, since before the Democratic convention. Illinois has 12 million people, but George W. Bush visits Chicago only when he's got a gig on "Oprah." For all the attention it's gotten in this election, Atlanta might as well be a one-stoplight town.

TV ads? In most of America, you could channel-surf 24 hours a day for the next three weeks without being accosted by either presidential candidate. For that matter, in most of the country, it's almost possible to forget we're electing a president this year.

The reason for this mysterious behavior is that the two major party nominees are not trying to win over individual voters in the coming election. They are trying to win states. Thanks to an obscure institution known as the Electoral College, that's how presidential elections work.

Because of this odd arrangement, the two candidates campaign only in those states that are "in play" -- those that either man has a realistic chance to win. Any state where one has a significant lead in the polls finds itself ignored by both. So it's easy to get the idea that these guys are running for governor of Wisconsin or mayor of Grand Rapids.

The itineraries for Gore and Bush are eerily similar. Lately, aside from debate stops, they've spent almost all their time in the old industrial heartland, from Pennsylvania to Iowa. Since the beginning of October, neither has made a campaign stop west of Des Moines. New England and most of the South and the East Coast have been under quarantine.

For those of you with only a hazy memory of high school civics, the Electoral College gives each state as many votes as it has seats in Congress -- from 54 for California to three for Wyoming. To win the presidency, you have to get a majority of the electoral votes, which amounts to 270.

Unknown to most Americans, it's entirely possible to win a majority of individual votes and lose the election. That happened in 1876 and 1888, and in a close presidential contest, it could happen again. Eventually, it almost certainly will. In 1888, when states were far more important than today, that outcome was accepted by the American people. Today, the reaction would most likely be a storm of disbelief and outrage.

That's a potential problem with the Electoral College. Others are actual. The most obvious is that people occupying vast stretches of the country are effectively bystanders in any presidential election.

There are millions of Bush supporters in California and New York, and there are legions of Gore loyalists in Texas and Ohio. But they are discouraged from voting because, in all but two states, the contest for electoral votes is all-or-nothing. From a practical standpoint, it doesn't matter to Gore if he gets 2.5 million votes in Texas or zero. Either way, he gets absolutely nothing in the Electoral College.

This is an odd way to choose a president. It does have its virtues, like discouraging the chaotic multiplicity of parties found in some countries. It forces the major parties to make broad appeals and forge something resembling consensus. If presidents were elected by popular vote, candidates would spend all their time in the biggest cities and states -- and all their money on national TV commercials.

But one option might preserve the advantages of the status quo while minimizing its perverse effects. Curtis Gans, head of the Committee for the Study of the American Electorate, proposes allocating electoral votes by congressional district, with two electoral votes in each state going to the statewide winner.

Under that system, Gore would be stumping in every big city, and Bush would be shaking hands in upstate New York and the suburbs of Chicago and Los Angeles. Third parties wouldn't suffer, but they'd gain no particular advantage: Though Ross Perot got 19 percent of the popular vote in 1992, he carried no congressional districts. It would greatly reduce the chance of someone losing the popular vote but winning the election. This idea has the advantage that it doesn't require amending the Constitution, since states can decide how to allot their electoral votes. It could be easily abandoned if it didn't work as well as the current system.

The current system, it's true, works fine for the residents of Grand Rapids. For most of the rest of us, who could hardly be less relevant if we were citizens of Denmark, it leaves a lot to be desired.