
Terry McAuliffe is a quick draw. Last night, mere seconds after the networks had crowned Hillary Clinton the Keystone State victor, the former DNC chairman--and current Clinton adviser--was already on the air, spinning like a top. His main talking point? It's the popular vote, stupid. "By the time we finish this process," he told MSNBC at 9:20 p.m., "Hillary Clinton will have moved ahead in the popular vote."
We can sympathize. Winning in Pennsylvania earned Clinton only 10 to 12 pledged delegates, which is a lot less than the 150 or so separating her from Barack Obama at the start of the night. And the Illinois senator will inevitably erase her gains with a big win in North Carolina. That said, the New York senator did manage to pick up more than 200,000 votes, significantly narrowing Obama's lead of 800,000--and giving her the potential to pass him if Florida (and, perhaps, Michigan) are ever factored in. (McAuliffe, of course, included the Sunshine State in his count.) So it's understandable that Clinton and Co. want to deemphasize the delegates and argue that the popular vote is the proper metric for determining the Democratic nomination.
The thing is, it's also preposterous. For starters, the Democratic rules clearly state that delegates, not votes, are decisive. But even if you grant that Team Clinton is only asking tiebreaking superdelegates to consider the popular vote when choosing a candidate--and not claiming that votes should replace delegates altogether--there's still a pesky little problem to deal with: the popular vote is completely and utterly uncountable. So as speculation swirls and the math gets mangled, we thought it'd be a good time to remind you, dear reader, of a few incontrovertible truths. From our April 4 item entitled "The Popular Vote Fallacy" (updated to reflect the most recent results):
Here's the math. To date, 41 of the 47 states or territories to hold
primaries or caucuses have released precise, undisputed popular-vote
totals. In this
count, according to RealClear Politics,
Obama leads Clinton by 501,138 votes (14,397,506 to 13,896,368). So far,
so good. But what, you ask, about the remaining six states? That's
where we get into trouble.
First, there's Florida. Despite
warnings from the Democratic National Committee, the Sunshine State
scheduled its primary before Feb. 5--and true to its word, the party
stripped the state of its delegates. That said, we're not talking about
delegates; we're talking about votes. In Florida, where both Obama and
Clinton were on the ballot, Clinton won by 294,772 (870,986 to
576,214). It's an open question, of course, whether a primary in which
both candidates refrained from campaigning should even count. But let's
say, for the sake of argument, that it should--which reduces Obama's
popular-vote advantage to 206,366. Unfortunately, this doesn't
help us much.
Next up is Florida's fellow gun-jumper,
Michigan, where Clinton racked up 328,309 votes. Obama's total? Zero.
That's because his name wasn't even listed on the ballot. On Jan.
19, Michiganders had two choices: Clinton or "uncommitted." And while
"uncommitted" earned about 45 percent of the vote, it's impossible to
determine what portion of that bloc backed Obama and what portion
backed John Edwards, whose name was also absent. Ignoring the fact that
Clinton herself said Michigan wouldn't "count for anything," this
murkiness alone makes an overall popular-vote tally impractical: either
you award all of the "uncommitted" votes to Obama, which would be
grossly inaccurate; count Clinton's votes and leave Obama at zero,
which would undoubtedly disenfranchise hundreds of thousands of Obama
supporters; or don't include Michigan at all, which would
disenfranchise even more, both pro-Clinton and pro-Obama.
That
said, the worst is yet to come. The final four states--Iowa, Nevada,
Maine and Washington--all held caucuses. But unlike Florida and
Michigan, none of them even kept track of how many people voted for
each candidate. (This is standard operating procedure in some caucuses,
where delegates are awarded proportionally in thousands of precincts.)
Wonks can devise equations to estimate the popular vote all they want,
but mixing precise vote totals from other states with caucus
approximations--which are, by definition, inaccurate--is mixing apples
and oranges. Besides, thousands of voters in Iowa entered the caucuses
intending to support Bill Richardson, Joe Biden, Chris Dodd and Dennis
Kucinich, but were forced to jump to Obama, Edwards or Clinton once
their preferred candidate didn't reach the 15-percent viability
threshold; in Nevada, the same thing happened to Edwards supporters.
How can you possibly pretend to count people required to resort to their second choices?
The fact is, the
Democratic Party has only one mechanism in place for deciding the
nomination: delegates. The system is simply not equipped to produce an
accurate tally of popular votes.
Clinton is hoping that some strange, hybrid form
of overall ballot approximation will delegitimize Obama's inevitable pledged
delegate victory and spur the supers to declare her the
"people's choice"-- however incomplete, imprecise or selective that
approximation (necessarily) is. And now that two-hundred thousand Pennsylvanians have put her one step closer to making that dream a reality, Terry McAuliffe couldn't be happier.
But that doesn't mean he's right.