Don Norcross is moving up. First he was an electrician with the IBW--although, as he puts it, he'd "been with organized labor in one fashion or another since birth." Then about a dozen years ago the 46-year old resident of Voorhees, N.J. became president of the local AFL-CIO. Next up: politics. In 2000, Norcross followed his brother George--"profane, boastful and sure of his power," writes the Star-Ledger, he's "one of the state's most formidable political bosses"--into the Democratic fray, rising to the position of party chairman in Camden County. But his latest position is undoubtedly his most powerful. Come August, Norcross--along with approximately 796 congressmen, senators, governors, party members and power players--could very well pick the next Democratic nominee for president of the United States.

Don Norcross is, in other words, a superdelegate.

You've probably heard of them at this point. Created in 1980 by the party establishment to wrestle control back from the rabble--who'd just chosen George McGovern and Jimmy Carter--superdelegates represent 19 percent of the Democratic party's total delegate count. They've been completely irrelevant since 1984, when Walter Mondale's establishment support helped him quash Gary Hart's insurgent candidacy. But now Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama are so closely matched that one of them would have to win 80% of the remaining regular delegates in primaries and caucuses to reach the 2,025 needed to clinch the nod--an enormously unlikely scenario. Which means that the race could come down to the superdelegates--specifically the 400 or so, like Norcross, who still haven't picked a candidate. Norcross has already received "a dozen" calls from the Clinton and Obama campaign sasking him to "sign on the dotted line" (as well as "at least two [daily] emails" apiece). Up next: a charm offensive from the candidates themselves.

Amid all the wheeling and dealing, many rank-and-file Democrats are dyspeptic at the thought of a superdelegate tiebreaker--the Doomsday Scenario. How, they ask, will a superdelegate decide between the candidate who emerges from the primaries and caucuses with the most popular votes and the candidate who emerges with the most delegates? (Yes, it's a possibility.) And what if one candidate finishes with fewer votes and fewer delegates--but remains so close in the delegate count that an infusion of superdelegate support would be enough to put him or her over the top? (Also possible--and even likely. Obama, for example, currently leads Clinton in the pledged-delegate tally. But Clinton's 243-156 edge among superdelegates gives her the overall delegate lead.) Will the superdelegates be willing to thwart the will of the people? Are we heading for Bush v. Gore: The Sequel?

Wanting answers to these fascinating--and potentially decisive--questions, I gave Norcross a call. Fifteen minutes later, I hung up more confused than before. Norcross is genuinely uncommitted--asked if he's leaning, he gives a curt "no" and refuses to discuss the candidates' strengths and weakness. And he's not an elected official, unlike most of his fellow superdelegates--which means that he won't be pressured to follow the primary voters in his district or state. So I pressed him to explain how--"if we go through all the primaries and caucuses and neither candidate has reached the magic number of 2,025 delegates" --superdelegates should choose  His initial response was simple. "I think they should absolutely listen to the people," he said. Apparently, Norcross believes that the party will "reach consensus" organically. "It might be in Denver and might be before that, but we will unite all the delegates and all the members of the Democratic party behind one candidate," he said. "Someone will be the clear leader." Over and out.

Which is all well and good. If one candidate leads in pledged delegates, popular votes and number of states won, the uncommitted superdelegates will probably agree to support him or her (and should). But what if it's not so clear-cut? Asked to explain which yardstick he would use if the "voice of the people" was muddled--the popular vote? the vote in his area? the pledged delegate count?--Norcross was hazy. "Yes. Yes to all those," he said. "They're all relevant." At one point, he even suggested that he'd take the temperature of his union members. "I'm a labor guy," he said. "I have more discussions that you can shake a stick at. As any good leader would do, you need to listen to the folks who are responsible for putting you there."

Meaning that Norcross would solicit input, consider the stats--and then essentially follow his gut. It's an unsettling thought. Lacking a definitive popular choice, the superdelegates may very well do what they were designed to do--decide the Democratic nominee on their own.

I asked Norcross if he was worried that the party faithful would cry foul. "At the end of the day, in Denver, I believe the people will say that it was a fair process and we chose the best candidate," he said. "Unfortunately, this might be like sausage--you never want to see it being made, but in the end it tastes real good."