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I grew up in Canada but never got to vote there before coming to the United States at age 21. I moved to California when I was 2 months shy of my 22nd birthday. At the time, I think the voting age threshold in Canada was 21 and there hadn’t been an election there in the 10 months after I turned 21.
But I remember one slogan, which was repeated endlessly:
Vote as you wish, but vote.
Even when I was about 15, I thought that slogan was nonsensical. Why encourage people to vote even if they don’t bother to learn the issues?
I finally got to vote my first time when I was 35. I had become a U.S. citizen in April or May 1986, and I registered to vote in California’s November elections. (I think I missed the June primary.)
Unlike in Canada, where one typically votes on a politician for one specific office, in the United States we vote on numerous politicians and, in California, numerous initiatives and referenda. So, to vote based on information, you need to get a lot of information.
But life is busy. In the fall of 1986, we had just bought a house, my wife had just gotten cancer, we were raising an almost 2-year-old daughter, and I had just gone tenure track with a lot of ground to make up on the academic publication front. On top of that, I was free-lancing for Fortune, something I needed to do a lot of to pay our mortgage.
As a result, I didn’t inform myself about all the issues. If it was a tax increase or a bond issue, I voted no. If it was more complicated, I left it blank.
Even on local issues in Pacific Grove, on which maybe 4,000 people voted and my vote had a greater chance of making a difference than it had for statewide referenda, I often left the line blank. Why? Because the typical vote in Pacific Grove was for city council. I couldn’t discern, from the literature I got in the mail or at my door, what the various candidates’ views were on anything. It was all “Keep Pacific Grove America’s best hometown,” “Care for the environment,” and other anodyne slogans.
My view was, and still is, that there are other voters who have strong preferences and better information, and I should let them determine the outcome. Why dilute the outcome with my badly informed vote?
You might argue that those with strong preferences might vote for a candidate worse than the one I would have voted for. True. But they might also vote for a candidate better than the one I would have voted for. I just didn’t know.
My favorite person to discuss politics with is my friend Eric Garris, the managing editor at antiwar.com. He has been following politics closely and analytically since he was a preteen. He has a vast store of knowledge about various campaigns and elections that he draws on when we talk. We will often try to stump each other with questions about political trivia from the last 50 years. We rarely succeed.
What I like about our conversations is that they are a mix of analytic thinking and fun. There’s no, “I can’t believe you voted for her (or him)!” It’s more like, “Hmmm. Interesting. You voted for her/ him. How come?”
I got a little sidetracked here. What I wanted to highlight is that Eric saw Jeff Greenfield, a regular on ABC’s late-night news show, “Nightline,” many years ago making the point I’m making. Greenfield said that we shouldn’t encourage people to vote when they know nothing about the people or issues that they’re voting on.
Incidentally, my behavior on voting for city council has changed dramatically. It’s because I have way more information. I moderated a panel in October at which 4 of the 6 candidates for city council showed up and answered questions about actual policies. So now I do vote on the city council.
Funny story, though. I voted yesterday. There were a lot of issues to vote on and, in line with what I said above, I left some choices blank. But for the city council, I accidentally voted for one candidate whom I most want to lose. She is toxic. So I went back to the instructions and read that I could cancel that vote by drawing a line through both her name and my filled out circle. That’s what I did. I hope it works. To paraphrase Ray Barone, in an episode of “Everybody Loves Raymond,” when he voted against his wife for school president: “I hope she doesn’t win by one vote.”
P.S. If you don’t get the Ray Barone reference, watch this snippet from the relevant episode. The whole thing is funny but the last minute gives you the gist, but leaves you wanting more. Ray voted against his wife. If she had lost by one vote, it would have been due to him.
P.P.S. If you do find the whole episode—I couldn’t—watch the fight between Ray and Deborah after the in-laws take off. It’s my favorite scene of a fight between a husband and wife who love each other. Some understanding comes out of it because they’re actually listening to each other.
Could not agree more. All the talking heads and celebrities urging the uninformed masses to vote is foolish in my humble opinion.
wouldn't an economist refence rational ignorance as another reason? For a single voter the marginal benefit of their one vote is less than the marginal opportunity cost associated with seeking information from credible sources.