Why the Guardian is Wrong on Prop 14
The San Francisco Bay Guardian’s rationale for opposing of Proposition 14 in California is unpersuasive. As explained in previous posts, Proposition 14 would jettison partisan primaries in which candidates from each major party must satisfy the “base” only, thus producing a false choice between polarized candidates in the general election. Prop 14 would create a single, open primary in which all comers may participate and after which the top two candidates compete in the general, irrespective of party affiliation. Open primaries would force candidates to appeal to voters across the spectrum, rather than only those belonging to their party. The reform would produce more moderate, pragmatic candidates with a broader base of support, and would ultimately reduce wasteful gridlock in Sacramento by narrowing the ideological extremes.
The Guardian’s first criticism of Prop 14: “It would allow Republicans to play a role in what would normally be Democratic primaries (and vice versa.)” Well, yes — isn’t that the whole point? This may be the most inane “criticism” I’ve ever heard, and one that is anything but “progressive,” a moniker to which the Guardian proudly lays claim. Like so many on the far Left, the Guardian’s editors seek a crushing progressive victory over all things “conservative” and “Republican,” rather than a workable electoral system given the size and diversity of the country, and given the inevitability (indeed desirability) of cyclical movement from one side to the other in American politics. They seek to take the politics out of politics. But, alas, there will be no “final solution” in the Land of the Free, nor should we seek one. The source of American vitality and longevity is neither progressivism nor conservatism. It is not a single definition of the public good. The source of our vitality is an institutionalized debate — a conflict within a larger constitutional consensus — over what the public good might be. It is our ability to move nimbly and peacefully back and forth between ideological centers of gravity without falling out of our common orbit and into civil war. It is, in a word, party.
“The two parties which divide the state are very Old, and have disputed possession of the world ever since it was made,” wrote Emerson almost 150 years ago. ” The quarrel is the subject of civil history. . . . In nature, each of these elements being always present, each theory has natural support.” Problems arise in this delicate ideological ecosystem when self-aggrandizing politicians, editors and interest groups seek to close the debate rather than open it up. “[M]en are not philosophers,” Emerson continued, “but rather are very foolish children, who, by reason of their partiality, see everything in the most absurd manner, and are the victims at all times of the nearest object. *** [Men] pair off into insane parties, and learn the amount of truth each knows, by the denial of an equal amount of truth.”
We need a primary system that mediates between the immutable extremes of American politics, not one that encourages them. By the same token, the task of politics should not be to change human nature but to harness it and, in so doing, soften its public effects.
The Guardian’s second criticism is that a single primary would make it more difficult for third parties — like the “Green Party” — to make any headway. This is wrong. Prop 14 would not discourage third parties; it would actually give them more opportunities where, in some case, they have none currently! Third parties are not the transcendent voice of reason that their proponents insinuate they are. They are just as guilty as the major parties (if not more), of elitism, rigidity, exclusion and small-mindedness. Just as the open primary would encourage Democrats and Republicans to pursue a more inclusive approach, so too it would encourage third parties to do so.
But what is this progressive fascination with a third party in the first instance? Have third parties ever done any good in American politics? Are they historically justified or beneficial? It would appear not. In 1912, Teddy Roosevelt’s Bull Moose candidacy did exactly nothing but ensure that Woodrow Wilson, who Republicans preferred over Taft, was elected president with a paltry 41.8 percent of the vote. Because of his underwhelming victory, Wilson would ultimately be one of our most docile presidents — a “plaything of events” as Hofstadter put it — and directly responsible for the creation of the single greatest cause of economic problems in the United States, the Federal Reserve. So too in 1992, when Ross Perot waged a impressive third-party campaign, all it did was ensure Bill Clinton’s victory with a controversial 43 percent of the vote and the defeat of one of our most wise (but most underrated) presidents, George H.W. Bush. Like Wilson, Clinton was another spineless president, always reticent to express a will of his own (let alone the people). In large part, we can thank Ross Perot — who was more a circus act than a qualified political leader — for this. As an historical matter, third parties tend to screw things up and, for good reason, have never been able to thrive in American political life. We cannot make policy with an eye toward realizing what has proven to be historically impossible and imprudent.
And, lest we forget, there is also the ancient and venerable power of two in competitions of all sorts, sports, politics, you name it. It is how we understand political issues — in twos. A tripartite party battle, said author Jabez D. Hammond many years ago, is “as unnatural as a battle between three ships at sea, each fighting against the other two.”
