CAPITOL JOURNAL : The Game Where the Politicians Pick the Voters

Now that state lawmakers have agreed on how to spend $56 billion of the taxpayers’ money, they’re about to turn their attention to something more important to many of them: political survival.

Like the solar eclipse that recently darkened a wide swath of the Earth, the drawing of new political district lines for the Legislature and Congress sweeps across the Capitol only every so often--in this case, once a decade.

It is a time of rumor and of paranoia, of wondering whether your friend might suddenly become your foe.

Redistricting is like the poker game known in some circles as “Screw Your Neighbor”--in which players pass their worst cards to those seated next to them. In the political version, incumbents transfer their undesirable voters--those least likely to vote for them--to the districts next door.

Because voters tend to fall into very predictable patterns, a savvy line drawer, with a zig here and a zag there, can all but ensure the election of a certain kind of candidate.

“District lines, artfully drawn, can predetermine the outcome of an election,” says one veteran legislator. “It is sophisticated ballot box stuffing. But the public never sees it.”

Here is how it works:

The politicians hire hordes of gnomes to study how every precinct in the state voted in every election for a decade. They can determine, for example, how many voters in the westernmost part of Yucaipa voted for Pete Wilson over Dianne Feinstein, and how many voted for the Big Green environmental initiative or against higher alcohol taxes. They can isolate the Democratic neighborhoods that vote for Republican presidents but stay loyal to the party in other races, and the Republican neighborhoods that support gun control or other liberal causes.

Into this computerized pot they throw the results of the U.S. Census, which provides a breakdown of the age, sex, ethnicity, family structure and income of the state’s residents.

A correct reading of the political and demographic data can enable incumbents to place in their districts those neighborhoods that have the characteristics most likely to spell victory. In effect, the politicians select their voters, instead of the voters selecting their politicians.

This could be done without conflict or intrigue if only each district were drawn in a vacuum. But in real life, things never are that easy.

One problem is that each district must have the same number of voters. So as the population shifts--from north to south, from cities to suburbs--the districts must shift as well. The result this year is that certain areas, such as the San Francisco Peninsula and central Los Angeles, which are losing people relative to the rest of the state, must lose districts. The growing regions pick them up.

Another factor is the federal Voting Rights Act, which requires communities of ethnic minorities to be grouped to maximize their chances of being represented by politicians of their choice. Ironically, fulfilling this edict may endanger the seats of some liberal white Democrats--the very people who usually support that kind of affirmative action policy.

The question comes down to who gets helped and who gets hurt. And that’s where the rumors start.

One that’s been going around the Capitol has Republican Gov. Wilson and Democratic Assembly Speaker Willie Brown together in a grand conspiracy. Brown gives Wilson what he wants in the congressional maps--more Republican seats--while Wilson accedes to Brown’s redrawing of Assembly lines. Brown’s boundaries take care of most of the Democrats and a dozen or so moderate Republicans who supported Wilson’s budget plan. Many conservative Republicans, who stood in the governor’s way, are left out in the cold.

Another rumor has the Assembly’s map drawers worrying that any plan that boosts minority representation would so upset the incumbent apple cart that it could not win the votes of a majority of the Democrats who control the lower house.

The only thing certain is that the rumors will stop by Sept. 13, when the Legislature must adopt a plan before adjourning for the year. If the past is any indication, the plan ultimately enacted will not please everyone--and those most displeased will be the weak and the powerless.

“It’s like a huge Rubik’s Cube that has to fit together,” said Ruth Holton, a lobbyist for California Common Cause. “Some of the members with clout will be presented with options. Those members without clout will simply be told what’s going to happen and will not be given any choice in the matter.”