State’s Predicament: Follow the Electors

California has a power shortage that has nothing to do with megawatts. From the vantage point of the White House, the states that shine brightest are those that matter most in the electoral college. Though California is big, its political light is dim.

At first glance, the state’s plight may seem puzzling. Under the U.S. Constitution, each state’s electoral vote equals the number of its U.S. House members (varying by population) plus its two U.S. senators. California had 54 electoral votes in the 2000 election and will gain another in 2004. That’s the largest bloc of electoral votes in history, more than one-fifth of the 270 needed to win the White House. How can any politician ignore it?

The answer lies in the way we choose electors. As in most other states, all of our electoral votes go to the candidate with the most popular votes, regardless of the margin. In 1988, George H.W. Bush got 51% to 48% for Michael Dukakis, yet collected 100% of California’s electors. Facing Bush and Perot four years later, Bill Clinton got the same 100% of the state’s electoral vote with only 46% of its popular vote.

Politicians will fight hard for such a prize, but only if they think they can win. Any other result is politically worthless. Whether the second-place finisher loses by a lot or a little, the score is still zero. So when politicians think they have no chance in the state, they have no political incentive to give it any attention. Therein lies California’s problem.

The state used to be competitive, giving Orange County a pivotal role. In 1988, the county accounted for 90% of the elder Bush’s 353,000-vote margin. But California swung decisively to the Democrats in the 1990s. Many observers thought the trend might soon reverse, but the 2000 election proved otherwise. Though George W. Bush made a major effort in the state, he still lost by more than a million votes. Few expect him to do much better next time.

It is no surprise, then, that he only recently made his first trip here as president. Although critics and supporters disagree on whether his energy policy reflects a bias against the state, nobody’s claiming a pro-California tilt.

Things probably wouldn’t be different if Gore had won. For eight years, Clinton had carefully tended to California, with the ironic result that Democrats could now afford to ignore it. During the fall campaign, Gore seldom visited the state and spent virtually no money here. In a Gore presidency, most political attention would go to more closely contested states such as Florida.

California can’t have much political power if Republicans write it off and Democrats take it for granted. One solution is to adopt the way in which Maine and Nebraska choose electors. Candidates get one electoral vote for each congressional district that they carry, with the two remaining votes going to the statewide winner. Under this plan, candidates and incumbent presidents would have to court California because of its large number of tossup districts. In 2000, there were 16 in which the candidates ran less than 10 points apart.

Especially after the next round of redistricting, several districts in the Orange County area could be highly competitive. Instead of focusing on St. Louis and Lansing, campaign schedulers would have to make room for Santa Ana and Laguna Niguel.

In addition to restoring the state’s leverage, the district plan could boost political participation. Nationwide, voter turnout in 2000 rose slightly above the 1996 level, largely because the race was so tight in so many places. In California, however, turnout went down. Increasing competition for the state’s electoral votes would heighten voter interest and give the campaigns more incentive to mount get-out-the-vote drives.

As we learned in the 1996 Sanchez-Dornan race, California elections can be just as controversial as those in Florida. A district plan could help the state avoid a Florida-style debacle, because a disputed local result would affect only one electoral vote.

The biggest obstacle to the district plan is its partisan impact. In 2000, Bush won 18 California districts to Gore’s 34. To put it mildly, Democratic politicians might be a tad reluctant to give up those 18 electoral votes. But any such objection overlooks the reaction of other states. Bush carried nine states with Democratic legislatures, and if California adopted the district plan, they would undoubtedly follow suit and offset GOP gains.

In any case, partisans on both sides should remember that political alignments are not permanent. No matter how party strength may shift in the future, the district plan would serve the state’s interests by keeping a number of its electoral votes in play. In the famous words of Lord Palmerston, “We have no eternal allies, and we have no perpetual enemies. Our interests are eternal and perpetual, and those interests it is our duty to follow.”