Introducing the Two-Vote Plan

 
In my last post, I promised to introduce a new plan for electing members of the Oregon House of Representatives - a plan which would add new dimensions of diversity to our legislature.  The Two-Vote Plan - known in comparative government circles as parallel voting - isn't complicated in practice, but its workings will be unfamiliar to those who don't follow politics abroad.  So please - if you're interested - be sure to read this when you have time to focus.  [You might look up "parallel voting" first - or after reading this - for further clarification.]

I'll outline the plan in this post. Then - for those with questions - I'll be happy to post a further elaboration.  

The basic idea of the Two-Vote Plan is that each voter would be entitled to two votes for Representative - one for an individual candidate running to represent a specific district, the other for a party slate running to represent a large region of the state.

Let's think of your two votes as Column A and Column B.  

In Columm A, you would choose among individual candidates running for a district seat - exactly the way you do now.  The one difference would be that only half of Oregon's 60 state Representatives would be elected from districts - so the 30 House districts would be identical to Oregon's 30 state Senate districts.  

Column B is where the innovation comes in.  Under the Two-Vote Plan, Oregon would be divided into three large regions - each containing one-third of the population.  The regions would be drawn so as to include - as much as possible - parts of the state with common economic, environmental, and cultural features.  For example, given our present population distribution, one region might include Portland and most of its suburbs.  A second region might contain eastern and and parts of central Oregon, and a third region the coast and its hinterlands.    

Each region would be entitled to ten Representatives, who would be elected by proportional representation.  Rather than running as individuals, candidates would run as slates - either chosen by a party, or ianassembled by agreements among individual candidates.   A slate could have up to ten candidates, but - as no slate will likely get 100% of the vote - it could have somewhat fewer than ten members.   

When voting in Column B, you would use a form of ranked-choice voting - indicating up to three choices.  Once all votes had been counted, any slate receiving fewer than 5% of the total vote in that region would be eliminated.  Those whose first preference was eliminated would have their second and, if necessary, third-choice votes assigned to their preferred surviving slate.  

That done, the ten regional seats would be allocated among the slates according to the percentage of votes received by each slate.  A slate would be awarded one seat for each 10% of the total vote, with the final seat or two awarded by a remainder process.  

The obvious question is:  What are the benefits of adopting the Two-Vote Plan?

The main advantage is that it would guarantee that almost every Oregonian would be able to cast a vote for a candidate who actually ends up being elected. 

At present, this simply does not happen.

When all Representatives are elected from single-member districts, most Oregonians find themselves voting in elections where the result is a foregone conclusion.  A Democrat living in eastern Oregon has virtually no chance of voting for a Democrat who will go to Salem to represent him.  A Republican living in Portland has very little chance of electing a Republican who will go to Salem to represent her.

This would be true, even without gerrymandering.  With gerrymandering, the impacts of single-member districts are greatly exaggerated.  In simple truth - whether we vote for the winner or the loser - very few of us have the opportunity of casting a vote that might actually make a difference.

Beyond this, a third of Oregonians do not identify with either major party - preferring a third party, or not consistently favoring any party at all.  As things now stand, these voters usually end up voting for either a Democrat or a Republican, rather than "wasting their vote" on a candidate they prefer, but who has no chance of winning.

Under the Two-Vote system, nearly all Oregonians would have the opportunity - in Column B - to vote for a slate they actually support, and from which at least a few candidates would be elected.   

For example, Republicans in the Portland region would probably be able to elect two or three members of their party to the House.  Likewise, Democrats from Pendleton or Baker City or Lakeview would almost certainly cast votes electing at least two Representatives to the House.

As for those who dislike both major parties, there would finally be a serious chance if electing someone from a third party.  A slate winning only 10% of the regional vote would be entitled to one seat.  (Indeed, under the remainder process a slate winning 7% or so would have a decent chance of electing one Representative.)

The obvious result;  A House of Representatives elected in this way would better represent the great variety of opinions and interests in our very diverse state.

But there would also be - in all probability - subtler impacts on the workings of the state House of Representatives.  

While Democrats would almost certainly continue to have a majority in the House, the Democratic caucus would have fewer members from Portland, and some new additions from Oregon's coastal and rural areas. With more areas of the state represented in the Democratic caucus, Oregon's House might still be controlled by Democrats - but it would not be so easily dominated by Portland Democrats.

Likewise, the Republican caucus would have slightly fewer members from rural areas, and a small infusion of members from urban and suburban areas.  This might contribute to less feeling of alienation among rural Representatives, who would now have metropolitan colleagues to partner with.  Over time, this might result - not only in better legislation - but in fewer walk-outs by rural Republicans who do not feel heard.

Finally, for everyone who wishes there were more than two parties in Salem, the Two-Vote Plan would, over time, result in at least a handful of Representatives from third parties taking their seats in the House.  Again, voices would be given to more diverse opinions and interests.  And perhaps, over time, attractive third-party leaders might emerge capable of becoming viable candidates for higher office - the state Senate, Congress, even US Senator or Governor.

So - that's the outline of the plan.  Your questions are welcome.

Toward Representation for All Oregonians

I was fairly new to Oregon when I picked my candidate for President and started looking for ways to get involved in the 2020 campaign. 

Over the course of a long life, I had occasionally dived into the political deep end before.  But I'd been younger then.

I was only 27 when I volunteered for John Warner's first run for the Senate in 1978.  By good fortune, I became an insider in that effort, which gave me a chance to get to know that remarkable man - and to escort his remarkable wife, Elizabeth Taylor, to a few public events.

In Gary Hart's 2004 presidential campaign - the one without the blonde - I played a strategic role at the Virginia Democratic Convention and stepped in at the last minute to preside over the successful Hart caucus.

Mark Warner's 2001 gubernatorial campaign introduced me to marathon door-to-door campaigning, a skill I'll be using again this year.

And I suppose I'll add Howard Dean's presidential campaign, too.  Though I really only did a week of hard work for Dean, that was in Manchester, New Hampshire - the fulfillment of a lifelong dream of playing a role in the Granite State's first-in-the-nation primary.

But those experiences seem to have been from another age.  It had been four decades since I made the sort of effort that followed my decision to join Elizabeth Warren's all-volunteer Oregon campaign.  From that effort, I learned a great deal about my new home state and its politics in five months of fairly intensive travel.

To be candid, Warren hadn't been my first choice to topple Donald Trump.  I had initially favored Al Franken, who was - yes, I'll say it - cancelled.   

But Warren proved an excellent choice for me.  While I disagreed with many of her plans, long experience has taught me not to pay too much attention to what presidential candidates say they'll do in office.  That sort of analysis might work for down-ballot offices, but the Presidency presents challenges beyond the capacity of mortal man or woman to imagine.  Until you've taken a seat behind that desk, you simply can't know what you'll learn, what events will come at you, what choices you'll have to make.

As a lifelong student and longtime teacher of history, I've come to look for the personal qualities that have, in the past, made for presidential greatness: vision; imagination; the ability to listen; wisdom; intellectual curiosity; the ability to build a team and use it well; great moral courage; a high energy level; ruthlessness; the ability to learn and grow.

That last one, especially. 

Only one President in our history was suited to the job when he took the oath of office.  The Constitutional Convention of 1787 had drawn up Article II with George Washington in mind, and the Presidency fit him like a glove.  Every president since has had to grow into it.   Those who didn't grow enough have gone down in history as failures.

Campaigning for Elizabeth Warren quickly exposed me to one harsh reality of Oregon politics - the domination of the state by one great metropolis and two smaller cities - Portland, Salem and Eugene - and by one party, the Democrats.  I quickly learned that the Warren campaign's strategy focused on seven counties along the upper I-5 corridor.  Oregon's other 29 counties - including mine (beautiful Clatsop) - "didn't count".  

I wasn't entirely shocked.  My native Virginia is usually dominated by blue urban areas - the suhurbs of Washington, DC (NoVA); Richmond; and the seven cities of Tidewater.  But in Virginia, the red rural and small town areas are sufficiently populous that they can occasionally overwhelm the Democrats' urban strongholds.  Indeed, that happened last November. 

In Oregon, the imbalance is on an entirely different order of magnitude.  I had heard of secessionist movements in the East, and walkouts by Republican legislators - but I'd always assumed the worst about those involved.  Now, I began to understand.  In Oregon, unless you live in the Portand metro area, Salem or Eugene, you're not in charge of your own destiny.  And if you're not a Democrat, you're just along for the ride.

People tend to resent things like that.

This realization did not cause me to rethink my commitment to Elizabeth Warren.  The folks involved in her campaign were fine people. They were simply playing the game the way it's played in today's Oregon.  

But, not being from one of the seven counties that count - and being a volunteer - I wasn't required to play the game their way.  If Elizabeth Warren won the nomination, and went on to become President, she would be President of all Americans - not just those whose votes counted in a primary strategy.

So I persuaded a small cadre of the PDX crowd to join me in a 36-County Project - an effort to find Warren chairs in every county in Oregon.  Over the next few months, I visited Democratic meetings in Clatsop, Tillamook, Columbia, Hood River, Wasco, Yamhill, and Jackson counties.  Other road warriors took our message eastward as far as Union County - and we persuaded the national campaign to send us telephone lists of registered Democrats in distant counties, so we could attempt to recruit leaders without making so many long drives.  

I also helped our team set up a table at the biennial Democratic Summit at Sunriver - the only presidential campaign to do so.  We met Democrats from all over the state, recruited new local leaders, and handed out nice, quickly-made buttons honoring Congressman Elijah Cummings, who had died two days before the Summit.  

As a result of our efforts, by the time Warren's national campaign began to falter, the 36-County Project had found effective leaders in some 22 of Oregon's 36 counties - including counties as remote from Portland as Harney and Coos.

The 36-County Project was, for me, a true introduction to my new home state.  I met people and learned things I could never have encountered in the quiet, privileged enclave of Cannon Beach.  

This spring, as I begin my campaign for the Oregon House of Representatives, the lessons of the 36-County Project remain with me. My perception of Oregon is of a state dominated by one great metropolis, two allied cities, and a single political party.  And I certainly relate to the sense that many Oregonians - in most of the 36 counties - have of being unrepresented in halls of their own legislature.

This year, I'm running as a non-party candidate - my natural position for a pragmatic centrist in a polarized, two-party world.  My campaign will necessarily focus on the one issue that motivated me to run - the climate crisis, and the failure of the two-party system to address that crisis.  But that failure strikes me that as symptomatic of the polarized red-blue division in our state and nation. 

And that division - so long as it persists - will present an almost insurmountable obstacle to developing the sort of civic dialogue and united effort required to save our planet from the worse impacts of planetary heating.

This year, I have made myself this promise:  During my campaign fir the Oregon House, I will present a plan to reform the way in which Oregonians elect members of that house.  This plan - while it would be innovative in the United States - has been time-tested abroad.  It is based on a model political scientists term parallel voting, and its great advantage is that it would assure that virtually every Oregonian - no matter where they live - will end up voting for someone who goes to Salem - and who speaks for both their political views and their region. 

In the next week, I'll post an outline of this plan.  I hope you'll check back, read the plan, and think it over.   

Your feedback will be most welcome.

Lincoln Green: The Party America Lacks

 

For many years, I have avoided this - hoping that someone younger, or better-known, or with more national political experience - would take up the challenge.  But the sands of time are running, and at 70 - with our Republic in the midst of a genuine struggle against both internal and external forces of autocracy, and with our planet approaching a crisis unlike any humankind has yet faced - it seems I have no valid excuse not to try. 

The challenge to which I refer is the creation of a third political party - positioned approximately where progressive Republicans stood before they became extinct.  A party of the broad center.  A party which is proudly nationalist - inclusively nationalist - rather than tribal.  A party which is firmly committed to the Constitution, and to the vision of the Founders who created that surprisingly durable charter. 

And a party - above all - which accepts the existential challenge of the climate crisis and is prepared to attack its causes; work toward reversing its dire advance; and, while that struggle goes forward, directs all of our modern ingenuity toward programs of adaptation and resilience.

And, because meeting the climate crisis will require a level of civic unity desperately lacking in our nation at present - a party committed to bringing Americans together, even when that means occasionally knocking a few heads together.  The time for tolerating foolishness and falsehood are over.  There is too much to do.  

To be perfectly honest, it is the climate crisis that motivates me - at this age - to bestir myself.  Great nations - as great empires - rise and fall.  If it were just a matter of seeing my country speeding toward the precipice, I might have shrugged in resignation and contented myself with the historian's perspective: Nothing lasts forever.

But the climate crisis is something different.  It represents the potential end of human life - perhaps not the life part, so much as the human part.  For we are not a species set apart.  We are part of an evolutionary generation of species - those life-forms which emerged after the last great extinction - and our very identity is bound up with those other species with whom we co-evolved.  I am sure that - if global heating reaches an extreme stage - some relatively small collections of our descendents might be able to live on in desert domes on this planet, or in subsurface tunnels on Mars, or perhaps on some moon of Saturn. 

But to my mind, they will soon cease to be truly human.  Detached from the world in which we evolved - the flora and fauna of our native planet - they will devolve into an impoverished, degenerate species.  I wonld not want to be one of them.  Better to die with my planet, and my evolutionary classmates.

Now, here I must pause - because the sort of dreadful future I am imagining is probably a century off, at least.  And really, I believe there is yet time for us to come to our senses, recognize the threat of global heating for what it is, and take rigorous steps to meet that threat. 

In another decade, rigorous might not suffice.  At some point, if we procrastinate enough, only very drastic steps will be sufficient.  At some point, what is necessary might be so unacceptable that humankind simply chooses to surrender to its fate.

I'm an optimist.  I think we will wake up in time, rediscover our innate, human capacities for collective action and self-sacrifice, and save both ourselves and most of our fellow species from the worst.

But to do so will take action.  Not in a few years.  Now.

And this brings me back around to where I began.  I do believe humankind can rise to the challenge of global heating.  But I do not believe we can do it without the leadership of the United States.  And I do not believe the United States can do it under the present two-party system.  That system has been broken for generations.  It is barely capable of adopting a budget, increasing the debt ceiling, and counting the Electoral vote for the next President.

It is certainly incapable of summoning its people to the sort of resolute action which overcame the Great Depression, won the Second World War, and put humans on the Moon.

Perhaps, with luck, some younger, brighter, more energetic spirits will find me in the wilderness, and adapt my thoughts into a sharp, practical weapon with which to meet the present crisis.  I'd prefer to help and advise, rather than - as King Henry put it - "crush [my] old limbs in ungentle steel" and take the field in my 70s.

With that off my chest, here is my point in a nutshell:  The United States needs a third party - and we need it now.  

The problem with making this case is simple.  Most Americans have an intuitive belief that a two-party system is the way it's supposed to be; or the way it has always been; or even what the Founding Fathers intended.

In point of fact, most of us have believed one or another of these things since we studied American Government in our last year of high school - which, sadly, is the last time most of us systematically studied government at all.  Which means that - for the great majority of us - acceptance of the two-party system is an unexamined aspect of what we perceive as American political life.

Which is unfortunate, if we recall what Socrates - at the supreme crisis of his life - said about the unexamined life.

In a recent post, I delved into into why so many of us assume that the two-party system exists due to some law of nature - and argued my case that the United States - having produced one extremely successful third party - could do so again, under similar circumstances.

I think of this third party as the Commonwealth Party, but that choice is not finally mine.  For now, I think of it as a color - not red or blue, but Lincoln Green, the color worn by Robin Hood and his Merry Men.  It's a lovely, sprightly color - and the words Lincoln and Green say most of what really needs to be said about this hopeful new party.

For the next nine months - if I stay healthy - I will take the first steps toward creating such a party.  I'll write about it, here and elsewhere.  And, as a candidate for the Oregon Legislative Assembly, I'll work to bring together a merry band of citizens in my own corner of my adopted state - perhaps to be the mustard seed from which great things grow.