washingtonmonthly--2020-11-18--Biden’s Suburban Victory Should Worry Both Parties and the Country

Despite Donald Trump ’ s efforts to reprise Richard Nixon ’ s 1968 law-and-order message , Joe Biden defeated him by rolling up big margins in the suburbs of cities like Milwaukee , Detroit , Philadelphia , and Atlanta .
It ’ s true that Biden overwhelmingly carried those cities , but analyses by Harry Enten of CNN and Nate Cohn at the New York Times show that his net gain of urban votes was lower than Hillary Clinton ’ s in 2016 .
The suburbs elected Biden .
But before Democrats celebrate , there are areas of concern for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the lawns and leafy streets surrounding American cities .
First , despite the Trump campaign ’ s hapless effort to proclaim that scary big city machines stole the election , a dive into urban returns shows why that can ’ t possibly be so .
In Georgia , black turnout increased relative to 2016 but less so than other groups , and the black share of the electorate fell from 27.6 percent to 27.0 percent .
This was much lower than the 30 percent who showed up for Obama ’ s 2012 campaign @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Hillary Clinton ’ s performance by 7 percent in high-income areas , by 6 percent where college-graduates are a majority , and by 5 percent in Obama-Trump polling places .
Biden actually did worse than Clinton in only two kinds of precincts : ones that are at least 80 percent black or majority Latino .
This pattern held in the Northern cities , too .
In Detroit , Biden actually got 1,000 fewer votes than Clinton , while Trump added five thousand .
Only in Milwaukee did the Democrats walk away with a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ but it was only an improvement of 3,000 .
Trump actually saw a higher percentage improvement .
The suburbs were where Democrats cleaned up and won important states .
The 80,000-vote net gain Biden pulled out of the Philly burbs easily eclipsed Trump ’ s 45,000 margin of victory in Pennsylvania in 2016 .
In the Detroit suburbs and non-urban parts of Wayne County ( where Detroit is located ) , Biden netted 120,000 more votes than Clinton , which dwarfed Trump ’ s 10,000 statewide victory in 2016 .
In the suburban @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Biden ’ s vote total was 25 percent above Hillary ’ s while Trump ’ s only added 12 percent to his 2016 performance .
That alone was sufficient to erase Trump ’ s previous 23,000-vote statewide margin of victory .
And , as Nate Cohn notes , in Georgia , “ Mr .
Biden ran well ahead of Hillary Clinton in well-educated , wealthy and increasingly diverse precincts around Atlanta while making relatively few gains elsewhere in the state.
” The good news for the Democrats is that these numbers were good @ @ @ @ @ @ @ votes and the election while defending Gary Peters ’ s U.S. Senate seat in Michigan and forcing the two Senate contests in Georgia into January runoffs .
The bad news is that suburban ticket-splitting had real consequences for Democrats .
They were unable to pick up a U.S. House seat in the Philly suburbs they were targeting .
A plurality of voters supported Georgia ’ s Republican Senate candidates even as Trump lost the state .
Suburban voters turned on Trump , but unlike in 2018 , they warmed up to Republicans down-ballot @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and Oklahoma City suburbs lost their first reelection bid .
Races in the New Jersey and Los Angeles suburbs are too close to call .
This gives hope to the GOP because their suburban troubles may dissipate without Trump on the ballot .
It won ’ t take much Democratic slippage to flip the House in 2022 .
Yet , if their suburban slide continues , they ’ ll be even more reliant on pulling Trump-like numbers out of rural areas , and , as my previous examination of the Pennsylvania results indicated @ @ @ @ @ @ @ clear they can accomplish this .
Their performance in the 2018 gubernatorial election , in which incumbent Democrat Gov .
Tom Wolf was reelected , suggested that Trump ’ s rural margins are particular to him , and not the Republican Party as a whole .
Trump leading a 2024 ticket would be a mixed blessing for Republicans .
The Democrats ’ main problem is that their urban/suburban coalition is fundamentally unstable .
Typically , suburbanites choose to live outside of cities for carefully considered reasons—lower crime , better education–and they resist spending @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Historically , the Republicans have had tremendous success in exploiting this wedge , and it ’ s not hard to foresee them making inroads in the suburbs again using messaging that ’ s less blunderbuss than Trump ’ s cries that low-income housing projects will be built next door and your life is in danger .
What ’ s driving the cities and suburbs together is growing demographic and cultural similarities , but common economic interests are lacking .
The Republicans ’ main problem , and perhaps the country ’ s main problem @ @ @ @ @ @ @ changes make the GOP reliant on rolling up huge margins in rural , white communities .
The way Trump has done this is to get whites to vote with racial consciousness .
This has been a boon to racists and white nationalists who have seen their once marginal views mainstreamed in the Trump Era .
If the Republicans can ’ t reverse their suburban losses , they ’ ll feel compelled to continue along Trump ’ s well-trodden path in search of ever-greater margins with white voters–and their numbers are declining .
In @ @ @ @ @ @ @ would feel pressure to take this approach : It appears that most Republicans are dropping the idea that they need to do better with Latinos and adopting the idea that they need to do even better with white voters…The most obvious way is to pursue an us vs. them approach that alternatively praises whites as the true , patriotic Americans , and that demonizes non-whites as a drain on the nation ’ s resources .
This is basically the exact strategy pursued by McCain and especially Romney .
It ’ s what Palin @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s what that 47 % speech was all about… The problem is that these attacks have already been made , and they failed in even near-optimal circumstances .
Accusing the Democrats of socialism , which is a race-neutral way of accusing the party of being beholden to the racial underclasses , has been proven insufficient .
The only hope for a racial-polarization strategy is to get the races to segregate their votes much more thoroughly , and that requires that more and more whites come to conclude that the Democratic Party is the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Latinos .
That is , indeed , how the party is perceived in the Deep South , but it would be criminal to expand those racial attitudes to the country at large .
The Republicans are coalescing around a strategy that will , by necessity , be more overtly racist than anything we ’ ve seen since segregation was outlawed .
I revisited these ideas in November 2016 in my post-election autopsy , Avoiding the Southification of the North , in which I warned , “ if the Democrats let this become a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the white rural counties of the North , that ’ s a recipe for the political Southification of the entire country .
That ’ s what the GOP has been doing gradually for 36 years , and it ’ s the basis for Trump ’ s coalition and for his reelection in 2020.
” Trump came up short in 2020 , barely , because a lot of formerly Republican suburbanites , in the North and also in Sun Belt , were not comfortable with his overtly racist politics or his incompetence .
They @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a breath of normalcy , but these GOP suburbanites were less dependable in other races .
They should not be seen as reliable Democrats in future elections .
If the Democrats want to create a stable majority , they ’ ll have to become less reliant on the affluent professionals that ring our cities , and that means winning back some white working-class voters .
As a moderate , older , Irish Catholic politician Biden was the Democratic nominee best able to pick up some of these votes .
He did that a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ as in northeastern Pennsylvania .
But in many rural counties , his numbers were worse than Hillary ’ s .
With Trump doing better with Latinos and black men , Biden needed every professional suburbanite vote he could get .
Luckily for him , he got them .
If the Republicans want to avoid being a white nationalist party , they have to find a way to win those affluent professionals back and keeping making gains with urban voters .
Susan Collins was the only Republican Senate candidate to run well ahead of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that was a little less dependent on working-class white men , especially in rural areas .
The other 49 GOP senators ’ problem is that their base is essentially Trump ’ s base—white , narrow , and not growing .

Despite Donald Trump’s efforts to reprise Richard Nixon’s 1968 law-and-order message, Joe Biden defeated him by rolling up big margins in the suburbs of cities like Milwaukee, Detroit, Philadelphia, and Atlanta. It’s true that Biden overwhelmingly carried those cities, but analyses by Harry Enten of CNN and Nate Cohn at the New York Times show that his net gain of urban votes was lower than Hillary Clinton’s in 2016. The suburbs elected Biden. But before Democrats celebrate, there are areas of concern for them and Republicans when it comes to the lawns and leafy streets surrounding American cities.
First, despite the Trump campaign’s hapless effort to proclaim that scary big city machines stole the election, a dive into urban returns shows why that can’t possibly be so. In Georgia, black turnout increased relative to 2016 but less so than other groups, and the black share of the electorate fell from 27.6 percent to 27.0 percent. This was much lower than the 30 percent who showed up for Obama’s 2012 campaign. Precinct-level data show Biden improved on Hillary Clinton’s performance by 7 percent in high-income areas, by 6 percent where college-graduates are a majority, and by 5 percent in Obama-Trump polling places. Biden actually did worse than Clinton in only two kinds of precincts: ones that are at least 80 percent black or majority Latino.
This pattern held in the Northern cities, too. In Detroit, Biden actually got 1,000 fewer votes than Clinton, while Trump added five thousand. Only in Milwaukee did the Democrats walk away with a bigger net-vote advantage than in 2016, but it was only an improvement of 3,000. Trump actually saw a higher percentage improvement.
The suburbs were where Democrats cleaned up and won important states. The 80,000-vote net gain Biden pulled out of the Philly burbs easily eclipsed Trump’s 45,000 margin of victory in Pennsylvania in 2016. In the Detroit suburbs and non-urban parts of Wayne County (where Detroit is located), Biden netted 120,000 more votes than Clinton, which dwarfed Trump’s 10,000 statewide victory in 2016. In the suburban parts of Milwaukee and surrounding counties, Biden’s vote total was 25 percent above Hillary’s while Trump’s only added 12 percent to his 2016 performance. That alone was sufficient to erase Trump’s previous 23,000-vote statewide margin of victory. And, as Nate Cohn notes, in Georgia, “Mr. Biden ran well ahead of Hillary Clinton in well-educated, wealthy and increasingly diverse precincts around Atlanta while making relatively few gains elsewhere in the state.”
The good news for the Democrats is that these numbers were good enough to help Biden win 306 electoral votes and the election while defending Gary Peters’s U.S. Senate seat in Michigan and forcing the two Senate contests in Georgia into January runoffs. The bad news is that suburban ticket-splitting had real consequences for Democrats. They were unable to pick up a U.S. House seat in the Philly suburbs they were targeting. A plurality of voters supported Georgia’s Republican Senate candidates even as Trump lost the state. Suburban voters turned on Trump, but unlike in 2018, they warmed up to Republicans down-ballot. Freshman Democrats from the Des Moines and Oklahoma City suburbs lost their first reelection bid. Races in the New Jersey and Los Angeles suburbs are too close to call.
This gives hope to the GOP because their suburban troubles may dissipate without Trump on the ballot. It won’t take much Democratic slippage to flip the House in 2022. Yet, if their suburban slide continues, they’ll be even more reliant on pulling Trump-like numbers out of rural areas, and, as my previous examination of the Pennsylvania results indicated, it’s not at all clear they can accomplish this. Their performance in the 2018 gubernatorial election, in which incumbent Democrat Gov. Tom Wolf was reelected, suggested that Trump’s rural margins are particular to him, and not the Republican Party as a whole. Trump leading a 2024 ticket would be a mixed blessing for Republicans.
The Democrats’ main problem is that their urban/suburban coalition is fundamentally unstable. Typically, suburbanites choose to live outside of cities for carefully considered reasons—lower crime, better education–and they resist spending their tax dollars on urban priorities. Historically, the Republicans have had tremendous success in exploiting this wedge, and it’s not hard to foresee them making inroads in the suburbs again using messaging that’s less blunderbuss than Trump’s cries that low-income housing projects will be built next door and your life is in danger. What’s driving the cities and suburbs together is growing demographic and cultural similarities, but common economic interests are lacking.
The Republicans’ main problem, and perhaps the country’s main problem, is that these demographic and cultural changes make the GOP reliant on rolling up huge margins in rural, white communities. The way Trump has done this is to get whites to vote with racial consciousness. This has been a boon to racists and white nationalists who have seen their once marginal views mainstreamed in the Trump Era. If the Republicans can’t reverse their suburban losses, they’ll feel compelled to continue along Trump’s well-trodden path in search of ever-greater margins with white voters–and their numbers are declining.
In July 2013, I predicted the Republicans would feel pressure to take this approach:
It appears that most Republicans are dropping the idea that they need to do better with Latinos and adopting the idea that they need to do even better with white voters…The most obvious way is to pursue an us vs. them approach that alternatively praises whites as the true, patriotic Americans, and that demonizes non-whites as a drain on the nation’s resources. This is basically the exact strategy pursued by McCain and especially Romney. It’s what Palin was all about, and it’s what that 47% speech was all about… The problem is that these attacks have already been made, and they failed in even near-optimal circumstances. Accusing the Democrats of socialism, which is a race-neutral way of accusing the party of being beholden to the racial underclasses, has been proven insufficient. The only hope for a racial-polarization strategy is to get the races to segregate their votes much more thoroughly, and that requires that more and more whites come to conclude that the Democratic Party is the party for blacks, Asians, and Latinos. That is, indeed, how the party is perceived in the Deep South, but it would be criminal to expand those racial attitudes to the country at large. The Republicans are coalescing around a strategy that will, by necessity, be more overtly racist than anything we’ve seen since segregation was outlawed.
I revisited these ideas in November 2016 in my post-election autopsy, Avoiding the Southification of the North, in which I warned, “if the Democrats let this become a racial fight between their multicultural base and the white rural counties of the North, that’s a recipe for the political Southification of the entire country. That’s what the GOP has been doing gradually for 36 years, and it’s the basis for Trump’s coalition and for his reelection in 2020.”
Trump came up short in 2020, barely, because a lot of formerly Republican suburbanites, in the North and also in Sun Belt, were not comfortable with his overtly racist politics or his incompetence. They chose Joe Biden and Kamala Harris for a breath of normalcy, but these GOP suburbanites were less dependable in other races. They should not be seen as reliable Democrats in future elections.
If the Democrats want to create a stable majority, they’ll have to become less reliant on the affluent professionals that ring our cities, and that means winning back some white working-class voters. As a moderate, older, Irish Catholic politician Biden was the Democratic nominee best able to pick up some of these votes. He did that a little bit here and there, such as in northeastern Pennsylvania. But in many rural counties, his numbers were worse than Hillary’s. With Trump doing better with Latinos and black men, Biden needed every professional suburbanite vote he could get. Luckily for him, he got them.
If the Republicans want to avoid being a white nationalist party, they have to find a way to win those affluent professionals back and keeping making gains with urban voters. Susan Collins was the only Republican Senate candidate to run well ahead of Trump, putting together a broader coalition that was a little less dependent on working-class white men, especially in rural areas. The other 49 GOP senators’ problem is that their base is essentially Trump’s base—white, narrow, and not growing.


washingtonmonthly--2020-11-17--By Enfranchising Parolees, California Voters Notch Win for Justice

Darryl Poole has never voted .
That ’ s not because he isn ’ t civic-minded .
Quite the opposite : Poole , 51 , lives in Sacramento , Calif. with his wife and daughter .
He and his wife recently bought a house together .
He is doing important community work as a certified drug-and-alcohol counselor who advises formerly incarcerated people on how to reenter society .
It ’ s because Poole is formerly incarcerated himself that he can ’ t vote .
Released from prison on Nov. 6 , 2018—Election Day—after 30 years behind bars , he remains @ @ @ @ @ @ @ those on parole can not cast ballots .
But starting in California ’ s next election , that will change .
On Nov. 3 , Proposition 17 , giving voting rights to those on parole , passed by roughly 20 percentage points .
Before , Poole would have had to wait three years—when his parole is set to end—to cast a ballot .
Some parolees would have never had their voting rights restored since parole can last anywhere from a few years to a lifetime .
Now , roughly 50,000 California citizens will @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s a significant step forward and a meaningful way to help reintegrate the formerly incarcerated into society .
“ For myself , just having that feeling when I woke up in the morning and knowing I can do my civic duty , it is priceless , ” he said .
“ If men and women who are out here on parole and they feel anything close to what I feel , there is no way that a person is going to mess that up.
” From a policy perspective , giving formerly @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a no-brainer .
Every state ( and D.C. ) that gives parolees the franchise has a lower recidivism rate than California .
In a recent Op-Ed for the Sacramento Bee , George Gascón , the new district attorney in Los Angeles , cited a 2007 study from the American Probation and Parole Association showing that “ disenfranchisement laws work against the successful reentry of [ formerly incarcerated people ] .
” There are certainly some confounding variables , but it ’ s not hard to see how the two are related .
The @ @ @ @ @ @ @ not to engage in behavior that would violate their parole .
And yet multiple states continue to deny the franchise to the formerly incarcerated .
Tennessee , Mississippi , and Arizona bar those convicted of certain felonies from ever voting again .
Iowa , Virginia , and Kentucky permanently disenfranchise anyone convicted of a felony .
Why do so many states maintain these draconian laws ?
The answer , as is so often the case in America , is racism .
Under the pretense of the 13th amendment , which barred involuntary servitude @ @ @ @ @ @ @ southern states arrested and convicted former slaves for benign “ offenses , ” like loitering , as a way to “ lease them back into the convict leasing system , lease them back to plantation owners , ” said Ken Oliver , the policy director of Legal Services for Prisoners with Children in Oakland ( I previously worked for LSPC ) .
A vital component of that disempowerement was taking away their voting rights .
This system continues to reduce the political power of Black Americans .
One out of every three male @ @ @ @ @ @ @ imprisoned .
According to Pew Research , as of 2017 , Black people make up 12 percent of the adult population in the United States but constitute 33 percent of its prison population .
In California , 3-out-of-4 men who leave prison are either Black , Latino , or Asian American .
Because these groups disproportionately vote Democratic , Republican politicians have gone out of their way to prevent the formerly incarcerated from gaining voting rights .
In 2018 , Florida voters passed an amendment restoring voting rights to former prisoners after completing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 65 percent of the vote and enfranchised roughly 1.5 million .
But instead of letting voters speak for themselves , the Republican-controlled statehouse passed a law signed by Republican Governor Ron DeSantis that required convicted felons to pay off fines and fees associated with their case before regaining the franchise .
It is a substantial barrier .
For at least one resident , that would require paying roughly $ 600,000 .
As California shows , disenfranchisement isn ’ t limited to the former confederacy or GOP-controlled states .
California declined to ratify the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ years later it finally approved the measure for symbolic reasons since it was already part of the federal Constitution .
The original California constitution stated that “ laws shall be made to exclude…the right of suffrage those who shall hereafter be convicted of bribery , perjury , forgery , or other high crimes.
” What constitutes a “ high ” crime ?
The ambiguity was the point—such vague language gave the state latitude to disenfranchise people of color .
“ We ’ re still living with a lot of vestiges from those laws @ @ @ @ @ @ @ passage of Proposition 17 is a step in the right direction .
Adding formerly incarcerated people to the voting rolls puts pressure on politicians to invest in policies like apprenticeship programs , free community college affordable housing , and meaningful criminal justice reform .
The formerly incarcerated are disproportionately people of color .
Enfranchising them forces elected officials to pay more attention to racism in America .
There are other signs of hope from the recent elections .
Nebraska and Utah voted to remove the involuntary servitude exceptions from their state constitutions with @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , respectively .
Alabama overwhelmingly voted to authorize the legislature to remove language from its state constitution allowing for poll taxes and promoting school segregation , and preventing persons of different races from marrying .
But the fight is far from over .
“ We ’ re just now getting to the point where we treat people who have committed a felony as human beings and not as objects , ” Oliver said .
The federal and California constitutions still contain involuntary servitude as a consequence of legally adjudicated imprisonment .
Only two @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in prison to vote .
We are in the middle of a nationwide reckoning with our racist history .
Now seems as good a time as ever to uproot it through legislative and constitutional reform at the state and federal levels .

Darryl Poole has never voted. That’s not because he isn’t civic-minded. Quite the opposite: Poole, 51, lives in Sacramento, Calif. with his wife and daughter. He and his wife recently bought a house together. He is doing important community work as a certified drug-and-alcohol counselor who advises formerly incarcerated people on how to reenter society. It’s because Poole is formerly incarcerated himself that he can’t vote. Released from prison on Nov. 6, 2018—Election Day—after 30 years behind bars, he remains on parole. And in California, those on parole cannot cast ballots.
But starting in California’s next election, that will change. On Nov. 3, Proposition 17, giving voting rights to those on parole, passed by roughly 20 percentage points. Before, Poole would have had to wait three years—when his parole is set to end—to cast a ballot. Some parolees would have never had their voting rights restored since parole can last anywhere from a few years to a lifetime. Now, roughly 50,000 California citizens will be reinfranchised.
For Poole, it’s a significant step forward and a meaningful way to help reintegrate the formerly incarcerated into society. “For myself, just having that feeling when I woke up in the morning and knowing I can do my civic duty, it is priceless,” he said. “If men and women who are out here on parole and they feel anything close to what I feel, there is no way that a person is going to mess that up.”
From a policy perspective, giving formerly incarcerated people the right to vote is a no-brainer. Every state (and D.C.) that gives parolees the franchise has a lower recidivism rate than California. In a recent Op-Ed for the Sacramento Bee, George Gascón, the new district attorney in Los Angeles, cited a 2007 study from the American Probation and Parole Association showing that “disenfranchisement laws work against the successful reentry of [formerly incarcerated people].” There are certainly some confounding variables, but it’s not hard to see how the two are related. The right to vote gives people an incentive not to engage in behavior that would violate their parole. And yet multiple states continue to deny the franchise to the formerly incarcerated. Tennessee, Mississippi, and Arizona bar those convicted of certain felonies from ever voting again. Iowa, Virginia, and Kentucky permanently disenfranchise anyone convicted of a felony.
Why do so many states maintain these draconian laws? The answer, as is so often the case in America, is racism. Under the pretense of the 13th amendment, which barred involuntary servitude except as punishment for a crime, southern states arrested and convicted former slaves for benign “offenses,” like loitering, as a way to “lease them back into the convict leasing system, lease them back to plantation owners,” said Ken Oliver, the policy director of Legal Services for Prisoners with Children in Oakland (I previously worked for LSPC). A vital component of that disempowerement was taking away their voting rights.
This system continues to reduce the political power of Black Americans. One out of every three male Black babies born today will likely be imprisoned. According to Pew Research, as of 2017, Black people make up 12 percent of the adult population in the United States but constitute 33 percent of its prison population. In California, 3-out-of-4 men who leave prison are either Black, Latino, or Asian American. Because these groups disproportionately vote Democratic, Republican politicians have gone out of their way to prevent the formerly incarcerated from gaining voting rights. In 2018, Florida voters passed an amendment restoring voting rights to former prisoners after completing their sentence. The amendment passed with 65 percent of the vote and enfranchised roughly 1.5 million. But instead of letting voters speak for themselves, the Republican-controlled statehouse passed a law signed by Republican Governor Ron DeSantis that required convicted felons to pay off fines and fees associated with their case before regaining the franchise. It is a substantial barrier. For at least one resident, that would require paying roughly $600,000.
As California shows, disenfranchisement isn’t limited to the former confederacy or GOP-controlled states. California declined to ratify the voting-centered 15th amendment in 1870 but 92 years later it finally approved the measure for symbolic reasons since it was already part of the federal Constitution. The original California constitution stated that “laws shall be made to exclude…the right of suffrage those who shall hereafter be convicted of bribery, perjury, forgery, or other high crimes.” What constitutes a “high” crime? The ambiguity was the point—such vague language gave the state latitude to disenfranchise people of color. “We’re still living with a lot of vestiges from those laws,” Oliver told me.
The passage of Proposition 17 is a step in the right direction. Adding formerly incarcerated people to the voting rolls puts pressure on politicians to invest in policies like apprenticeship programs, free community college affordable housing, and meaningful criminal justice reform. The formerly incarcerated are disproportionately people of color. Enfranchising them forces elected officials to pay more attention to racism in America.
There are other signs of hope from the recent elections. Nebraska and Utah voted to remove the involuntary servitude exceptions from their state constitutions with 68 and 81 percent of the vote, respectively. Alabama overwhelmingly voted to authorize the legislature to remove language from its state constitution allowing for poll taxes and promoting school segregation, and preventing persons of different races from marrying.
But the fight is far from over. “We’re just now getting to the point where we treat people who have committed a felony as human beings and not as objects,” Oliver said. The federal and California constitutions still contain involuntary servitude as a consequence of legally adjudicated imprisonment. Only two states—Vermont and Maine—and D.C. allow people currently in prison to vote. We are in the middle of a nationwide reckoning with our racist history. Now seems as good a time as ever to uproot it through legislative and constitutional reform at the state and federal levels.


washingtonmonthly--2020-11-17--Georgia’s Recount Is Likely to Narrow Biden’s Lead There. Here’s Why.

Last week , Georgia announced that it would conduct an “ audit ” —functionally a recount—of all of the nearly five million votes cast in the state ’ s 2020 presidential election after the original tally showed Joe Biden defeated Donald Trump by more than 14,000 votes .
The audit will be the largest hand recount in American history , and if you listen to most of the mainstream press , there ’ s little reason to expect that it will result in a final tally much different than the initial one .
“ Research shows that recounts do not @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to flip the outcome , ” reported The Washington Post .
That ’ s true as a historical matter .
Fair Vote , a nonprofit that advocates for electoral reforms , carefully studied the 31 statewide recounts since 2000 and found that in most cases , they resulted in shifts of only a few hundred votes .
Only three of the 31 ended up reversing the results because , in each one , the margins between the two candidates were tiny .
For instance , in the famous 2008 U.S. Senate recount in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ with only 215 more votes than Democratic challenger Al Franken .
After a months-long recount , Franken had 225 more votes than Coleman , a swing of only 440 votes overall .
But there is a major difference between the Georgia recounts and all the others .
In those previous elections , virtually all of the voters used the same system of voting , either in person ( in 29 cases ) or by mail ( in 2 cases , both in Oregon , a universal vote by mail state ) .
With @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the same balloting system and the initial count a virtual 50-50 split between the two contestants , any changes in the tally would naturally occur about equally to both sides .
Hence the very modest shift in the overall count .
In Georgia , however , each side ’ s voters didn ’ t use the same system .
Greater numbers of Republicans voted in-person on Election Day , using the state ’ s new ballot-marking devices ( BMDs ) .
In contrast , Democrats voted absentee by mail by a roughly two-to-one @ @ @ @ @ @ @ machines have issues , they at least do a good job of marking ballots with precision—say , filling in the oval completely—so very few of those are likely to be thrown out .
It ’ s the hand-marked absentee ballots that are likely to make up the vast majority of the contested ones .
And since two out of three of those are Democratic ballots , the audit could hit Biden much harder .
For Democrats , this poses a nightmare scenario .
In the initial count , Biden received 849,642 absentee votes @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the overall gap in voting at only 14,155 .
If only 1.67 percent of the absentee votes cast for Biden are rejected , Trump could theoretically win the election .
To be clear , this is very unlikely to happen for a couple of reasons .
First , while ballots can be thrown out during recounts ( because judges determine a voter made significant errors ) , they can also be added back in ( because judges decide a ballot that had previously been rejected ought to count ) .
In most of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , overall vote tallies went up .
If that ’ s the pattern in Georgia , Biden ’ s lead could grow , or at least not shrink all that much .
The second reason has to do with the standards judges are required to use to determine voter intent on a ballot .
If the standards are lenient , the change in the tally will be minimal .
If the standards are strict , more ballots will be thrown out .
Luckily for Democrats , Georgia ’ s standards seem to be @ @ @ @ @ @ @ says Phil Keisling , former Oregon Secretary of State .
Georgia ’ s elections director Chris Harvey told me that his office instructed county election officials last week to count any ballot in which the voter clearly demonstrates an intent to support a candidate .
That means , he said , that if a voter circles Biden ’ s name instead of filling out the oval , as the instructions require , officials should count the vote for the Democratic nominee .
“ People have all sorts of creative ways of marking ballots @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , ” he said .
Still , there ’ s a very real chance that the hand audit will narrow Biden ’ s margin of victory , possibly by quite a lot .
The problem is that the press has not prepared the public for that possibility .
Instead , relying on studies like Fair Vote ’ s , it ’ s been reported that not much will change .
And that opens up more opportunities for the Trump campaign to question the results .
Trump and his lawyers are already charging that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ rigged—as Washington Monthly ’ s Art Levine predicted they would .
But while the courts have so far dismissed those charges , Trump ’ s lawyers do have a stronger legal card to play .
As noted , the audit Georgia elections officials are conducting is not an official recount , even though each ballot is being looked at by hand .
According to state law , a recount can only be ordered from a judge after the election has been certified .
That ’ s currently scheduled to happen on November 20 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that date to request a recount .
The Trump campaign , therefore , would be within its legal rights to demand such a recount .
If by then the audit has already narrowed the vote margin considerably , the public could be forgiven for believing that the recount could shrink it further—even though that is extremely unlikely because , in practical terms , the audit was a recount .
At the very least , a recount after a narrowing of the vote margin would provide the Trump campaign with another tool to drag @ @ @ @ @ @ @ erroneous one—to refuse to start the transition process .
At worst , an unexpected shrinking margin from the audit would give Trump and his allies more ammunition to unfairly slam Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger—a Republican who , by all indications , has run the process admirably so far—and to sow doubt about the integrity of the election as a whole .
That ’ s why Democrats and the press need to ready the public for the possibility that the audit could shrink Biden ’ s lead .
With the audit scheduled @ @ @ @ @ @ @ secretary of state slated to certify the final tally on Friday , there ’ s not much time to get the word out .

Last week, Georgia announced that it would conduct an “audit”—functionally a recount—of all of the nearly five million votes cast in the state’s 2020 presidential election after the original tally showed Joe Biden defeated Donald Trump by more than 14,000 votes. The audit will be the largest hand recount in American history, and if you listen to most of the mainstream press, there’s little reason to expect that it will result in a final tally much different than the initial one. “Research shows that recounts do not typically change the results by enough votes to flip the outcome,” reported The Washington Post.
That’s true as a historical matter. Fair Vote, a nonprofit that advocates for electoral reforms, carefully studied the 31 statewide recounts since 2000 and found that in most cases, they resulted in shifts of only a few hundred votes. Only three of the 31 ended up reversing the results because, in each one, the margins between the two candidates were tiny. For instance, in the famous 2008 U.S. Senate recount in Minnesota, Republican incumbent Norm Coleman began with only 215 more votes than Democratic challenger Al Franken. After a months-long recount, Franken had 225 more votes than Coleman, a swing of only 440 votes overall.
But there is a major difference between the Georgia recounts and all the others. In those previous elections, virtually all of the voters used the same system of voting, either in person (in 29 cases) or by mail (in 2 cases, both in Oregon, a universal vote by mail state). With all the voters in those races using the same balloting system and the initial count a virtual 50-50 split between the two contestants, any changes in the tally would naturally occur about equally to both sides. Hence the very modest shift in the overall count.
In Georgia, however, each side’s voters didn’t use the same system. Greater numbers of Republicans voted in-person on Election Day, using the state’s new ballot-marking devices (BMDs). In contrast, Democrats voted absentee by mail by a roughly two-to-one margin. While Georgia’s voting machines have issues, they at least do a good job of marking ballots with precision—say, filling in the oval completely—so very few of those are likely to be thrown out. It’s the hand-marked absentee ballots that are likely to make up the vast majority of the contested ones. And since two out of three of those are Democratic ballots, the audit could hit Biden much harder.
For Democrats, this poses a nightmare scenario. In the initial count, Biden received 849,642 absentee votes. Trump received 451,147. That put the overall gap in voting at only 14,155. If only 1.67 percent of the absentee votes cast for Biden are rejected, Trump could theoretically win the election.
To be clear, this is very unlikely to happen for a couple of reasons. First, while ballots can be thrown out during recounts (because judges determine a voter made significant errors), they can also be added back in (because judges decide a ballot that had previously been rejected ought to count). In most of the 31 recounts studied by Fair Vote, overall vote tallies went up. If that’s the pattern in Georgia, Biden’s lead could grow, or at least not shrink all that much.
The second reason has to do with the standards judges are required to use to determine voter intent on a ballot. If the standards are lenient, the change in the tally will be minimal. If the standards are strict, more ballots will be thrown out.
Luckily for Democrats, Georgia’s standards seem to be “on the generous side,” says Phil Keisling, former Oregon Secretary of State. Georgia’s elections director Chris Harvey told me that his office instructed county election officials last week to count any ballot in which the voter clearly demonstrates an intent to support a candidate. That means, he said, that if a voter circles Biden’s name instead of filling out the oval, as the instructions require, officials should count the vote for the Democratic nominee. “People have all sorts of creative ways of marking ballots that are not consistent with the directions,” he said.
Still, there’s a very real chance that the hand audit will narrow Biden’s margin of victory, possibly by quite a lot. The problem is that the press has not prepared the public for that possibility. Instead, relying on studies like Fair Vote’s, it’s been reported that not much will change. And that opens up more opportunities for the Trump campaign to question the results.
Trump and his lawyers are already charging that the voting machines used in Georgia are rigged—as Washington Monthly’s Art Levine predicted they would. But while the courts have so far dismissed those charges, Trump’s lawyers do have a stronger legal card to play.
As noted, the audit Georgia elections officials are conducting is not an official recount, even though each ballot is being looked at by hand. According to state law, a recount can only be ordered from a judge after the election has been certified. That’s currently scheduled to happen on November 20. A candidate has two days after that date to request a recount. The Trump campaign, therefore, would be within its legal rights to demand such a recount. If by then the audit has already narrowed the vote margin considerably, the public could be forgiven for believing that the recount could shrink it further—even though that is extremely unlikely because, in practical terms, the audit was a recount.
At the very least, a recount after a narrowing of the vote margin would provide the Trump campaign with another tool to drag out the election and another excuse—albeit an erroneous one—to refuse to start the transition process. At worst, an unexpected shrinking margin from the audit would give Trump and his allies more ammunition to unfairly slam Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger—a Republican who, by all indications, has run the process admirably so far—and to sow doubt about the integrity of the election as a whole.
That’s why Democrats and the press need to ready the public for the possibility that the audit could shrink Biden’s lead. With the audit scheduled to be completed Wednesday and the Georgia secretary of state slated to certify the final tally on Friday, there’s not much time to get the word out.


washingtonmonthly--2020-11-18--Why Christian Nationalists Merge Their Religious and Political Identities

Paul Ewell , a business professor and dean at Virginia Wesleyan University , wrote on Facebook recently that anyone who supported Biden for president is “ ignorant , anti-American and anti-Christian.
” Donald Trump was so impressed with the sentiment that he retweeted the quote with a one word commentary : “ Progress !
” We have , of course , become somewhat immune to that kind of divisiveness from the president .
But when we hear it from the dean of a Christian college on social media , or as we saw when Franklin Graham and radio talk show @ @ @ @ @ @ @ oppose the president are succumbing to a demonic influence , the sentiment isn ’ t isolated to a few individuals among white evangelicals .
This Manichean view of the 2020 election is what drove roughly 80 percent of white evangelical Christians to vote for Trump .
Their political alignment with the right means that 40 percent of Trump voters identify as white evangelical Christians , even though they represent only 15 percent of the population .
Diana Butler Bass , an American historian of Christianity , wrote that this melding of religion and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ identity that seem intractable at the moment.
” She went on to point out how voting for Republicans has been equated with theology .
Christian nationalists have divinized politics in their quest to ensure that America isn ’ t just a nation friendly to Christians , but a Christian Nation in spirit and law .
To the extent that white evangelical Christians believe that anyone who votes for a Democrat is under demonic influence or will go to hell , crafting the right policy platform in an attempt to bridge the divide is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ not like arguing over infrastructure spending or a trade deal .
There ’ s no splittable difference and there ’ s no logic either .
It is all about identity , which , as Butler points out , is built on a sense of belonging .
As this country opened the door of belonging a bit wider to women , people of color , immigrants , and LGBTQ Americans , white evangelical Christians viewed that as a threat to their own identity and took refuge in tribalism .
The battle lines were drawn @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” with “ good ” on one side and “ evil ” on the other .
That these changes in American culture and demographics were perceived as a threat to white evangelical Christians came as no surprise to researchers and psychologists who had determined that “ conservatism is positively associated with heightened epistemic concerns for order , structure , closure , certainty , consistency , simplicity , and familiarity.
” Living within that kind of social order brings clarity and eliminates ambiguity .
All of that is threatened by change .
When it @ @ @ @ @ @ @ evangelical Christians , we hear a lot about the need to overturn Roe v. Wade and eliminate women ’ s reproductive choice .
Denying systemic racism , they dismiss the shooting of innocent Black men by police officers as simply the product of a few bad apples .
The Black Lives Matter movement is referred to as Marxist and therefore , evil .
The cry to protect the religious freedom of evangelical Christians is not extended to those who practice another faith .
To the contrary , Muslims Americans are demonized .
And @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Court justices is hailed as a welcome step towards eliminating marriage equality .
For white evangelical Christians , the threats posed by those issues represent a zero sum game that can ’ t withstand the inclusion of “ them.
” The more they feel threatened , the more they retreat into tribalism empowered by a divinized politics .
That is what makes them a threat to democracy and why the term “ Christian nationalists ” is an appropriate descriptor .
Ultimately , white evangelical Christians are on a collision course with cultural changes @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of color , immigrants , and LGBTQ Americans no longer accept second-class citizenship .
The social order that has sustained the supremacy of white heterosexual patriarchy will be increasingly challenged .
Where does that leave white evangelical Christians whose identity and sense of belonging have been tied to a social order that is crumbling ?
They will oppose the inevitable or adapt .
One way to do the later is to break the bond that has developed between their religious and political identity .
That would mean going back to the days prior @ @ @ @ @ @ @ when white evangelical Christianity became synonymous with the Republican Party .
A trickle of evangelical leaders are promoting that approach .
Andy Stanley , pastor of one of the largest megachurches in the country , advocates against “ culture war Christianity , ” which he describes as a perversion of biblical faith that has set the church up to be a tool for politicians to exploit .
That puts him directly at odds with court evangelicals who sustain their power via access to politicians , such as Robert Jeffress , Franklin Graham , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ are clearly in the minority among white evangelicals , but they play the same role with the religious right that Never Trumpers played with the Republican Party .
They provide a permission structure for white evangelical Christians to maintain their religious identity , while decoupling it from a political identity .
While we wait to see if that kind of internal challenge can forestall the continued collision between white evangelical Christians and a changing culture , the one thing the rest of us can do is to extend the invitation articulated by former @ @ @ @ @ @ @ are engaged in a zero sum battle of “ us ” vs “ them ” as a way to protect the social order that has sustained their identity .
The only possible response is to invite them to embrace a “ we ” in which everyone belongs—no exceptions .
Anything less than that risks the foundation of our democracy .

Paul Ewell, a business professor and dean at Virginia Wesleyan University, wrote on Facebook recently that anyone who supported Biden for president is “ignorant, anti-American and anti-Christian.” Donald Trump was so impressed with the sentiment that he retweeted the quote with a one word commentary: “Progress!”
We have, of course, become somewhat immune to that kind of divisiveness from the president. But when we hear it from the dean of a Christian college on social media, or as we saw when Franklin Graham and radio talk show host Eric Metaxas agree that those who oppose the president are succumbing to a demonic influence, the sentiment isn’t isolated to a few individuals among white evangelicals.
This Manichean view of the 2020 election is what drove roughly 80 percent of white evangelical Christians to vote for Trump. Their political alignment with the right means that 40 percent of Trump voters identify as white evangelical Christians, even though they represent only 15 percent of the population.
Diana Butler Bass, an American historian of Christianity, wrote that this melding of religion and politics has “hardened into forms of identity that seem intractable at the moment.” She went on to point out how voting for Republicans has been equated with theology.
[M]illions of white evangelical Christians literally believe that if you vote for a Democrat, you will go to hell (I’m not kidding). You wonder why 80% of them vote for Republicans? Because their salvation is at stake. That’s a powerful voting incentive.
Christian nationalists have divinized politics in their quest to ensure that America isn’t just a nation friendly to Christians, but a Christian Nation in spirit and law.
To the extent that white evangelical Christians believe that anyone who votes for a Democrat is under demonic influence or will go to hell, crafting the right policy platform in an attempt to bridge the divide is an exercise in futility. This is not like arguing over infrastructure spending or a trade deal. There’s no splittable difference and there’s no logic either. It is all about identity, which, as Butler points out, is built on a sense of belonging.
As this country opened the door of belonging a bit wider to women, people of color, immigrants, and LGBTQ Americans, white evangelical Christians viewed that as a threat to their own identity and took refuge in tribalism. The battle lines were drawn between “us” and “them” with “good” on one side and “evil” on the other.
That these changes in American culture and demographics were perceived as a threat to white evangelical Christians came as no surprise to researchers and psychologists who had determined that “conservatism is positively associated with heightened epistemic concerns for order, structure, closure, certainty, consistency, simplicity, and familiarity.” Living within that kind of social order brings clarity and eliminates ambiguity. All of that is threatened by change.
When it comes to the issues that animate white evangelical Christians, we hear a lot about the need to overturn Roe v. Wade and eliminate women’s reproductive choice. Denying systemic racism, they dismiss the shooting of innocent Black men by police officers as simply the product of a few bad apples. The Black Lives Matter movement is referred to as Marxist and therefore, evil. The cry to protect the religious freedom of evangelical Christians is not extended to those who practice another faith. To the contrary, Muslims Americans are demonized. And finally, the appointment of convervative Supreme Court justices is hailed as a welcome step towards eliminating marriage equality.
For white evangelical Christians, the threats posed by those issues represent a zero sum game that can’t withstand the inclusion of “them.” The more they feel threatened, the more they retreat into tribalism empowered by a divinized politics. That is what makes them a threat to democracy and why the term “Christian nationalists” is an appropriate descriptor.
Ultimately, white evangelical Christians are on a collision course with cultural changes that are inevitable. Women, people of color, immigrants, and LGBTQ Americans no longer accept second-class citizenship. The social order that has sustained the supremacy of white heterosexual patriarchy will be increasingly challenged.
Where does that leave white evangelical Christians whose identity and sense of belonging have been tied to a social order that is crumbling? They will oppose the inevitable or adapt. One way to do the later is to break the bond that has developed between their religious and political identity. That would mean going back to the days prior to the advent of the Moral Majority when white evangelical Christianity became synonymous with the Republican Party.
A trickle of evangelical leaders are promoting that approach. Andy Stanley, pastor of one of the largest megachurches in the country, advocates against “culture war Christianity,” which he describes as a perversion of biblical faith that has set the church up to be a tool for politicians to exploit. That puts him directly at odds with court evangelicals who sustain their power via access to politicians, such as Robert Jeffress, Franklin Graham, or Paula White.
Pastors like Stanley are clearly in the minority among white evangelicals, but they play the same role with the religious right that Never Trumpers played with the Republican Party. They provide a permission structure for white evangelical Christians to maintain their religious identity, while decoupling it from a political identity.
While we wait to see if that kind of internal challenge can forestall the continued collision between white evangelical Christians and a changing culture, the one thing the rest of us can do is to extend the invitation articulated by former President Barack Obama.
America is not the project of any one person. Because the single-most powerful word in our democracy is the word “We.” “We The People.” “We Shall Overcome.” “Yes We Can.” That word is owned by no one. It belongs to everyone.
White evangelical Christians are engaged in a zero sum battle of “us” vs “them” as a way to protect the social order that has sustained their identity. The only possible response is to invite them to embrace a “we” in which everyone belongs—no exceptions. Anything less than that risks the foundation of our democracy.


washingtonmonthly--2020-11-18--The QAnon Super PAC was a Flop

The QAnon Super PAC was a Flop

The COVID-19 pandemic has created fertile conditions for the QAnon conspiracy to grow , from online message boards , into the streets at “ Save the Children ” rallies , and to protests , after the election results were called .
It ’ s jumped the Atlantic , making inroads in France , Britain , and Italy .
And it ’ s headed to Congress .
Marjorie Taylor Greene , who has staked out her support for the sprawling conspiracy theory—which centers on the false belief that Donald Trump is secretly combatting a deep state cabal of satanic pedophiles—will be @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Congress starting in January .
But there ’ s one arena in which the conspiracy theory failed to gain momentum : political fundraising .
In February of 2020 , James Watkins launched Disarm The Deep State , a super PAC ostensibly to back QAnon-supporting candidates .
( Watkins also owns 8kun , a message board website that is home to “ Q , ” the anonymous poster said to be at the center of the movement .
Some evidence suggests that Watkins , his son , or someone that works for them , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ PAC ’ s website lists 16 candidates it supported , some of whom never publicly backed QAnon .
It vowed to “ take the movement offline and out of the shadows.
” With your help , reads the PAC ’ s website , “ we will have the resources to place meaningful pressure on closely contested races.
” In an April interview , Watkins said the PAC would fund “ print advertising , billboards , and [ ads on ] sides of busses.
” But , according to the PAC ’ s most @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , it didn ’ t end up providing print advertising , or billboard ads , or ads on the sides of busses .
In fact , it raised just $ 4,236—pocket change in the country ’ s most expensive election in history .
( The PAC was also seeded with a $ 500 loan from Watkins ’ lawyer , bringing its total cash to $ 4,736 ) .
Even relative to other niche PACs , it ’ s a small sum : Truckers for Yang raised nearly $ 100,000 .
Despite its limited @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ t even spend down its bank account .
According to FEC filings , it spent a grand total of $ 591 .
Washington Monthly tried to contact Watkins and his lawyer multiple times for this story , including emailing each of them a list of specific questions , but received no response .
One reason that the PAC struggled to raise significant funds could be that it doesn ’ t appear to have well-heeled donors .
PACs reliant on small donors , like Disarm The Deep State , have a much harder @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , a researcher at the Center for Responsive Politics .
“ Super PACs account for a larger and larger fraction of spending every cycle , ” Mayersohn told the Washington Monthly , “ but there ’ s also a very long tail of super PACs that don ’ t really raise or spend very much.
” The PAC ’ s modest fundraising could also have to do with the perception of super PACs within the QAnon community more generally , said Travis View , host of the podcast QAnon Anonymous .
PACs are @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Q ’ s followers believe they ’ re actively opposing .
“ Achieving electoral victories slowly over time isn ’ t as exciting as their vision of Q , ” said View , “ which is revealing the truth to everyone , their political enemies being arrested , and entering into some sort of golden age.
” “ I think this might have been a personal project of Jim Watkins , ” View continued , “ and it just didn ’ t take off as well as he thought.
” The PAC ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ own YouTube channel , supports View ’ s theory .
It targeted Bennie Thompson , a longtime Democratic congressman in Mississippi ’ s solidly blue second district .
Thompson , the House Committee on Homeland Security chair , deposed Watkins last year after 8chan , another message board website that Watkins managed , hosted the manifestos of at least three mass shooters .
Thompson ’ s opponent in the race , Republican Brian Flowers , had not made any pro-QAnon statements and was not among the candidates that the PAC claimed to be @ @ @ @ @ @ @ carried his district by more than 20 points .
Disarm The Deep State produced just two other video ads .
One was for Dion Bergeron , a candidate in the Republican primary for Indiana ’ s first district who has often tweeted QAnon slogans .
The other ad was for Reba Sherrill , a longtime QAnon follower who ran in the Republican primary for Florida ’ s twenty-first district .
According to data from the Facebook Transparency Center , the two ads received a combined 15-21k impressions , which refers to the number @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s screen .
While those numbers may seem large , research suggests that just 1.2 percent of people who see an ad on Facebook click on it , which would translate to around 250 people or fewer interacting with the PAC ’ s two ads .
Bergeron came in fifth out of six candidates in his primary with 10.1 percent of the vote , while Sherrill came in dead last in her six-way primary , winning only 3.1 percent of the vote .
Ultimately , QAnon candidates got larger donations from mainstream @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The Deep State .
Former Governor of Arkansas Mike Huckabee ’ s PAC gave $ 5,000 to QAnon follower Jo Rae Perkins .
Kelly Loeffler , a Republican senator from Georgia , donated $ 2,000 to Angela Stanton-King , a Republican running for congress in Georgia ’ s fifth district who promoted the QAnon conspiracy on social media .
Both Perkins and Stanton-King lost by sizable margins in November .
Disarm The Deep State was not Watkins ’ first attempt to influence an election .
Fredrick Brennan , who founded 8chan before transferring @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a phone interview that Watkins put free Trump ads on 8chan in 2016 .
That year , 8chan was among the top ten sites driving traffic to the Trump campaign website .
“ Then Trump won a surprise victory , and Jim now believes he can influence elections , ” Brennan said .
After working with Watkins for two years , Brennan quit and has become a vocal critic of 8kun , Watkins ’ new site .
The two men are currently embroiled in a bitter legal dispute .
Donations to the PAC @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , with just $ 483 coming in between the end of June and October 14th , the last day for which spending is recorded in FEC filings .
By October 14th , Disarm The Deep State had refunded some of the small donations it had received but had not repaid its $ 500 loan .
Since the PAC spent so little of its funds , it still had $ 4,060 on hand .
If Disarm The Deep State still had money in its account on Election Day roughly three weeks later , Watkins @ @ @ @ @ @ @ could donate the remaining funds to another group , or give donors refunds , or save the cash in the PAC for the next election cycle .
It ’ s an open question , though , whether a large Q community will still exist when the midterm elections roll around in 2022 .
After Joe Biden ’ s victory , some in the online community have lost faith ; Q had been predicting a blowout win for Trump .
Watkins ’ son , Ron , quit as 8kun ’ s site administrator .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ , Q did not post .
Watkins , his lawyer , and anyone else involved in running the PAC have another option for what to do with the remaining funds : pay themselves .
They ’ re not technically allowed to pocket the money , says Mayersohn , the Center for Responsive Politics researcher , but super PACs are subject to so few fiduciary responsibilities that there ’ s not much stopping them from paying themselves .
They could write a check to themselves for “ consulting fees , ” or reimburse their @ @ @ @ @ @ @ group , few endings could be more fitting than making a check payable to oneself .

The COVID-19 pandemic has created fertile conditions for the QAnon conspiracy to grow, from online message boards, into the streets at “Save the Children” rallies, and to protests, after the election results were called. It’s jumped the Atlantic, making inroads in France, Britain, and Italy. And it’s headed to Congress. Marjorie Taylor Greene, who has staked out her support for the sprawling conspiracy theory—which centers on the false belief that Donald Trump is secretly combatting a deep state cabal of satanic pedophiles—will be representing Georgia’s fourteenth district in Congress starting in January.
But there’s one arena in which the conspiracy theory failed to gain momentum: political fundraising.
In February of 2020, James Watkins launched Disarm The Deep State, a super PAC ostensibly to back QAnon-supporting candidates. (Watkins also owns 8kun, a message board website that is home to “Q,” the anonymous poster said to be at the center of the movement. Some evidence suggests that Watkins, his son, or someone that works for them, is posting as Q.) The PAC’s website lists 16 candidates it supported, some of whom never publicly backed QAnon. It vowed to “take the movement offline and out of the shadows.” With your help, reads the PAC’s website, “we will have the resources to place meaningful pressure on closely contested races.” In an April interview, Watkins said the PAC would fund “print advertising, billboards, and [ads on] sides of busses.”
But, according to the PAC’s most recent filings with the Federal Elections Committee, it didn’t end up providing print advertising, or billboard ads, or ads on the sides of busses. In fact, it raised just $4,236—pocket change in the country’s most expensive election in history. (The PAC was also seeded with a $500 loan from Watkins’ lawyer, bringing its total cash to $4,736). Even relative to other niche PACs, it’s a small sum: Truckers for Yang raised nearly $100,000. Despite its limited funds, Disarm The Deep State didn’t even spend down its bank account. According to FEC filings, it spent a grand total of $591. Washington Monthly tried to contact Watkins and his lawyer multiple times for this story, including emailing each of them a list of specific questions, but received no response.
One reason that the PAC struggled to raise significant funds could be that it doesn’t appear to have well-heeled donors. PACs reliant on small donors, like Disarm The Deep State, have a much harder time raising money, says Andrew Mayersohn, a researcher at the Center for Responsive Politics. “Super PACs account for a larger and larger fraction of spending every cycle,” Mayersohn told the Washington Monthly, “but there’s also a very long tail of super PACs that don’t really raise or spend very much.”
The PAC’s modest fundraising could also have to do with the perception of super PACs within the QAnon community more generally, said Travis View, host of the podcast QAnon Anonymous. PACs are an instrument of the political establishment that Q’s followers believe they’re actively opposing. “Achieving electoral victories slowly over time isn’t as exciting as their vision of Q,” said View, “which is revealing the truth to everyone, their political enemies being arrested, and entering into some sort of golden age.”
“I think this might have been a personal project of Jim Watkins,” View continued, “and it just didn’t take off as well as he thought.”
The PAC’s first ad, published on its own YouTube channel, supports View’s theory. It targeted Bennie Thompson, a longtime Democratic congressman in Mississippi’s solidly blue second district. Thompson, the House Committee on Homeland Security chair, deposed Watkins last year after 8chan, another message board website that Watkins managed, hosted the manifestos of at least three mass shooters. Thompson’s opponent in the race, Republican Brian Flowers, had not made any pro-QAnon statements and was not among the candidates that the PAC claimed to be backing. On November 3rd, Thompson carried his district by more than 20 points.
Disarm The Deep State produced just two other video ads. One was for Dion Bergeron, a candidate in the Republican primary for Indiana’s first district who has often tweeted QAnon slogans. The other ad was for Reba Sherrill, a longtime QAnon follower who ran in the Republican primary for Florida’s twenty-first district. According to data from the Facebook Transparency Center, the two ads received a combined 15-21k impressions, which refers to the number of times the ad appeared on someone’s screen. While those numbers may seem large, research suggests that just 1.2 percent of people who see an ad on Facebook click on it, which would translate to around 250 people or fewer interacting with the PAC’s two ads. Bergeron came in fifth out of six candidates in his primary with 10.1 percent of the vote, while Sherrill came in dead last in her six-way primary, winning only 3.1 percent of the vote.
Ultimately, QAnon candidates got larger donations from mainstream GOP sources than they did from Disarm The Deep State. Former Governor of Arkansas Mike Huckabee’s PAC gave $5,000 to QAnon follower Jo Rae Perkins. Kelly Loeffler, a Republican senator from Georgia, donated $2,000 to Angela Stanton-King, a Republican running for congress in Georgia’s fifth district who promoted the QAnon conspiracy on social media. Both Perkins and Stanton-King lost by sizable margins in November.
Disarm The Deep State was not Watkins’ first attempt to influence an election. Fredrick Brennan, who founded 8chan before transferring its ownership to Watkins, said during a phone interview that Watkins put free Trump ads on 8chan in 2016. That year, 8chan was among the top ten sites driving traffic to the Trump campaign website. “Then Trump won a surprise victory, and Jim now believes he can influence elections,” Brennan said. After working with Watkins for two years, Brennan quit and has become a vocal critic of 8kun, Watkins’ new site. The two men are currently embroiled in a bitter legal dispute.
Donations to the PAC reduced to a trickle over the summer, with just $483 coming in between the end of June and October 14th, the last day for which spending is recorded in FEC filings. By October 14th, Disarm The Deep State had refunded some of the small donations it had received but had not repaid its $500 loan. Since the PAC spent so little of its funds, it still had $4,060 on hand.
If Disarm The Deep State still had money in its account on Election Day roughly three weeks later, Watkins would have had several options: he could donate the remaining funds to another group, or give donors refunds, or save the cash in the PAC for the next election cycle. It’s an open question, though, whether a large Q community will still exist when the midterm elections roll around in 2022. After Joe Biden’s victory, some in the online community have lost faith; Q had been predicting a blowout win for Trump. Watkins’ son, Ron, quit as 8kun’s site administrator. For over a week after election day, Q did not post.
Watkins, his lawyer, and anyone else involved in running the PAC have another option for what to do with the remaining funds: pay themselves. They’re not technically allowed to pocket the money, says Mayersohn, the Center for Responsive Politics researcher, but super PACs are subject to so few fiduciary responsibilities that there’s not much stopping them from paying themselves. They could write a check to themselves for “consulting fees,” or reimburse their own travel expenses. For a pro-Trump group, few endings could be more fitting than making a check payable to oneself.


washingtonmonthly--2020-11-18--The QAnon Super PAC Was a Flop

The QAnon Super PAC Was a Flop


washingtonmonthly--2020-11-19--The Vote by Mail Triumph

The Vote by Mail Triumph

Washington Monthly readers are , on average , highly educated consumers of political and policy information .
They read multiple mainstream national newspapers , listen to public radio , and often watch cable shows .
Yet they come here because they feel we can offer something more .
One example from this year had an odd assist from the COVID-19 pandemic .
For years , we ’ ve been arguing that the single best way to ensure that more citizens cast ballots is to expand universal vote by mail .
With states compelled by the health crisis to relax restrictions @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 2020 presidential election broke the record for ballots cast and saw the highest voter turnout rate among eligible citizens since 1900 .
This was great for American democracy and , from a partisan perspective , it helped Joe Biden tally the highest vote total for a presidential candidate .
This was the result we envisioned , even if it was far from how we hoped it would play out .
Of course , voter participation is only one measure of a healthy representative democracy .
We also need an informed citizenry , and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ his right-wing media enablers , 2020 has not excelled in this area .
A new survey from Vox and Data for Progress finds that 75 percent of Republican voters and 44 percent of all voters believe that the election results were tainted .
There is no evidence for this , but raising doubts about mail-voting is part of the Republicans ’ strategy to prevent high turnouts in the future .
Senate Judiciary Chairman Lindsey Graham of South Carolina made this clear when he told Fox News on Monday , “ [ Senate Majority @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to come up with an oversight of mail-in balloting .
If we don ’ t do something about voting by mail , we are going to lose the ability to elect a Republican in this country.
” Ironically , high turnout helped the Republicans regain seats in the House that they ’ d lost in the 2018 midterms and has so far limited their losses in the Senate to two seats which , provided they don ’ t lose both January runoff elections in Georgia , will allow them to retain their majority @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Republicans will be locked out of the White House in perpetuity unless they eliminate mail-voting as an option .
We can expect the GOP to pursue a relentless campaign of misinformation in furtherance of this goal .
This is why the Washington Monthly ’ s policy-focused journalism is so important .
By ourselves , we can ’ t defeat the torrent of lies that flow through voters ’ Facebook feeds , but as we explain in the latest issue , local and niche journalism is vital .
Yet , with the media as @ @ @ @ @ @ @ collapse , we need innovative solutions to keep the industry afloat .
In the meantime , we ’ re reliant on the generous support of readers like you .
This is why I urge you to make a donation during our year-end fundraising drive .
In fact , do it right now .
Give whatever you can— $ 10 , $ 50 , $ 1,000—before December 31 , and your contribution will be matched , dollar for dollar , thanks to a generous challenge grant we ’ ve received from NewsMatch , a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ like the Monthly .
As a nonprofit , we can ’ t do the work we do without your support .
( It also means your donation is tax-deductible . )
As a token of our gratitude , if you give $ 50 or more , you ’ ll receive a free one-year subscription to the print edition of the Washington Monthly .
Your donation will help us , but it will help you too , and it will help us have the informed citizenry we need for a healthy democracy .

Washington Monthly readers are, on average, highly educated consumers of political and policy information. They read multiple mainstream national newspapers, listen to public radio, and often watch cable shows. Yet they come here because they feel we can offer something more.
One example from this year had an odd assist from the COVID-19 pandemic. For years, we’ve been arguing that the single best way to ensure that more citizens cast ballots is to expand universal vote by mail. With states compelled by the health crisis to relax restrictions on absentee and mail voting, the 2020 presidential election broke the record for ballots cast and saw the highest voter turnout rate among eligible citizens since 1900. This was great for American democracy and, from a partisan perspective, it helped Joe Biden tally the highest vote total for a presidential candidate. This was the result we envisioned, even if it was far from how we hoped it would play out.
Of course, voter participation is only one measure of a healthy representative democracy. We also need an informed citizenry, and with many thanks to Donald Trump and his right-wing media enablers, 2020 has not excelled in this area. A new survey from Vox and Data for Progress finds that 75 percent of Republican voters and 44 percent of all voters believe that the election results were tainted. There is no evidence for this, but raising doubts about mail-voting is part of the Republicans’ strategy to prevent high turnouts in the future. Senate Judiciary Chairman Lindsey Graham of South Carolina made this clear when he told Fox News on Monday, “[Senate Majority Leader] Mitch McConnell and I need to come up with an oversight of mail-in balloting. If we don’t do something about voting by mail, we are going to lose the ability to elect a Republican in this country.”
Ironically, high turnout helped the Republicans regain seats in the House that they’d lost in the 2018 midterms and has so far limited their losses in the Senate to two seats which, provided they don’t lose both January runoff elections in Georgia, will allow them to retain their majority. Yet, Sen. Graham thinks the Republicans will be locked out of the White House in perpetuity unless they eliminate mail-voting as an option. We can expect the GOP to pursue a relentless campaign of misinformation in furtherance of this goal.
This is why the Washington Monthly’s policy-focused journalism is so important. By ourselves, we can’t defeat the torrent of lies that flow through voters’ Facebook feeds, but as we explain in the latest issue, local and niche journalism is vital. Yet, with the media as a whole at risk of total financial collapse, we need innovative solutions to keep the industry afloat. In the meantime, we’re reliant on the generous support of readers like you. This is why I urge you to make a donation during our year-end fundraising drive. In fact, do it right now. Give whatever you can—$10, $50, $1,000—before December 31, and your contribution will be matched, dollar for dollar, thanks to a generous challenge grant we’ve received from NewsMatch, a campaign dedicated to helping nonprofit news organizations like the Monthly. As a nonprofit, we can’t do the work we do without your support. (It also means your donation is tax-deductible.) As a token of our gratitude, if you give $50 or more, you’ll receive a free one-year subscription to the print edition of the Washington Monthly.
Your donation will help us, but it will help you too, and it will help us have the informed citizenry we need for a healthy democracy.


washingtonmonthly--2020-11-20--Biden’s Education Secretary? The Case for Amy Gutmann, President of the University of Pennsylvania

We need to fund neighborhood schools and pay their teachers more !
We need more charter schools and higher academic standards !
That ’ s been the debate inside the Democratic Party since the days of Barack Obama , who stood squarely in the charters-and-standards camp .
Joe Biden is reportedly considering the appointment of former National Education Association President Lily Eskelen Garcia or American Federation of Teachers leader Randi Weingarten as his Secretary of Education , which would signal a move away from Obama and the traditional-schools model .
But I ’ ve got a better idea : how @ @ @ @ @ @ @ identified with one team or the other but instead specializes in forging discussion and compromise between them ?
I ’ m talking about University of Pennsylvania President Amy Gutmann , who is rumored to be under consideration for the secretary post as well .
Gutmann is America ’ s leading scholar of democratic dialogue , the skills and habits that allow us to converse across our differences .
So , she ’ s the best candidate for healing Democrats ’ internal rift over schools .
Hardly an armchair academic , Gutmann runs an @ @ @ @ @ @ @ budget , a $ 14.5 billion endowment , and over 18,000 staff .
She ’ s also my boss , at least nominally , which makes all of this a bit , um , awkward .
So , let me get a few things out of the way , lest anyone think I ’ m trying to get into her good graces .
I already have the most coveted prize in academia : an office with a window .
( As Henry Kissinger famously quipped , our in-fighting is brutal because the stakes @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , I have tenure and an endowed chair .
There ’ s nothing I want or need from Amy Gutmann , whom I ’ ve met precisely once in my four years at Penn .
But I do want her to lead the Department of Education , where her commitment to compromise would leaven the take-no-prisoners spirit that permeates the moment .
Consider the battle over charter schools , probably the most controversial question in public education .
If you ’ re a traditionalist , charters represent an effort to “ destroy public @ @ @ @ @ @ @ greedy capitalists .
To charter advocates , meanwhile , their critics are putting the interests of bloated administrations and teacher unions ( most charter schools aren ’ t unionized ) ahead of “ the kids.
” The two sides never frame the debate as a reasonable disagreement about common ends .
I ’ ve been in enough education debates to know that you rarely hear the words , “ I see the world differently , and therefore disagree about what would be best for children.
” Instead , the tone is , “ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ don ’ t. ” So , if you support the Common Core , Obama ’ s effort to promote more rigorous school curricula , you ’ re a shill for testing companies ; if you ’ re against it , you want the kids ( again , the kids ) to remain mired in mediocrity .
And , most recently , if you want urban public schools to open during the COVID-19 pandemic , you obviously don ’ t care about the health of the mostly minority children who attend them .
And @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the schools , you ’ re indifferent to black and brown students falling even further behind in their academic achievement .
We ’ ve seen this brain-dead debate play out in my hometown of Philadelphia , which recently delayed plans to return some students to its schools on November 30 .
Teacher union leaders praised the decision , noting the city ’ s rising rate of transmission .
But on social media , critics blamed the unions for—you guessed it—putting their wishes ahead of their students .
Again , there are plenty of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ debate .
But we won ’ t hear them if we presume that our opponents are selfish , stupid , or corrupt .
Democracy requires us to believe that reasonable people can come to different conclusions about the same set of facts .
And there ’ s only one institution that can teach future citizens that lesson : the American school .
Alas , the debate over education reflects the same hostile mentality that infects the rest of our politics .
It ’ s my way or the highway .
We can ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ civility that undergirds democracy if we ’ re violating it ourselves .
That ’ s where Gutmann could provide vital help .
In sixteen books and hundreds of articles , Gutmann has explored the virtues of conversation and compromise .
She ’ s the embodiment of Joe Biden ’ s talk of unity , and I hope his familiarity with Penn—which named its global-engagement center in Washington after him—means Gutmann ’ s name is really in play .
Surely , we can promote neighborhood charter schools , just as we can encourage higher @ @ @ @ @ @ @ none of that will happen if we assume the worst about each other .
It ’ s also unlikely to occur if you tip the scales towards one side .
Since the Department of Education was created , no union leader has been named secretary .
It ’ s a sensible norm worth keeping .
But we also don ’ t want someone like Trump ’ s education secretary , Betsy DeVos , whose hardened views on charter schools and private school vouchers alienated big swaths of the education community .
Witness the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Baltimore schools CEO Sonja Santelises is also under consideration for the post .
Santelises has worked for Teach for America and is backed by Democrats for Education Reform , a pro-charter group , which makes her Kryptonite to the unions and other traditional-school advocates .
One critic even compared her to Arne Duncan , Obama ’ s first education secretary , whose advocacy for accountability and charters caused so much consternation that the NEA called on him to resign in 2014 .
We need an Education Secretary who can bring these two sides @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Who better than someone who has spent her career studying and practicing dialogue across differences ?
After the 2016 elections , for example , Gutmann tapped Joe Biden and Jeb Bush as “ practice professors ” at Penn and hosted them for a forum about immigration , where they hammered out a compromise on one of America ’ s most polarizing issues .
I have no idea if Gutmann would even consider serving in Biden ’ s cabinet .
But here ’ s what I do know : her country needs her more @ @ @ @ @ @ @ public schools .
Especially right now .

We need to fund neighborhood schools and pay their teachers more! We need more charter schools and higher academic standards! That’s been the debate inside the Democratic Party since the days of Barack Obama, who stood squarely in the charters-and-standards camp. Joe Biden is reportedly considering the appointment of former National Education Association President Lily Eskelen Garcia or American Federation of Teachers leader Randi Weingarten as his Secretary of Education, which would signal a move away from Obama and the traditional-schools model.
But I’ve got a better idea: how about choosing someone who isn’t identified with one team or the other but instead specializes in forging discussion and compromise between them?
I’m talking about University of Pennsylvania President Amy Gutmann, who is rumored to be under consideration for the secretary post as well. Gutmann is America’s leading scholar of democratic dialogue, the skills and habits that allow us to converse across our differences. So, she’s the best candidate for healing Democrats’ internal rift over schools.
Hardly an armchair academic, Gutmann runs an enormous institution with a $3.5 billion budget, a $14.5 billion endowment, and over 18,000 staff. She’s also my boss, at least nominally, which makes all of this a bit, um, awkward. So, let me get a few things out of the way, lest anyone think I’m trying to get into her good graces. I already have the most coveted prize in academia: an office with a window. (As Henry Kissinger famously quipped, our in-fighting is brutal because the stakes are so small.) More seriously, I have tenure and an endowed chair. There’s nothing I want or need from Amy Gutmann, whom I’ve met precisely once in my four years at Penn.
But I do want her to lead the Department of Education, where her commitment to compromise would leaven the take-no-prisoners spirit that permeates the moment. Consider the battle over charter schools, probably the most controversial question in public education. If you’re a traditionalist, charters represent an effort to “destroy public schools” by turning them over to greedy capitalists. To charter advocates, meanwhile, their critics are putting the interests of bloated administrations and teacher unions (most charter schools aren’t unionized) ahead of “the kids.”
The two sides never frame the debate as a reasonable disagreement about common ends. I’ve been in enough education debates to know that you rarely hear the words, “I see the world differently, and therefore disagree about what would be best for children.” Instead, the tone is, “I care about them, and you don’t.”
So, if you support the Common Core, Obama’s effort to promote more rigorous school curricula, you’re a shill for testing companies; if you’re against it, you want the kids (again, the kids) to remain mired in mediocrity.
And, most recently, if you want urban public schools to open during the COVID-19 pandemic, you obviously don’t care about the health of the mostly minority children who attend them. And if you’re opposed to opening the schools, you’re indifferent to black and brown students falling even further behind in their academic achievement.
We’ve seen this brain-dead debate play out in my hometown of Philadelphia, which recently delayed plans to return some students to its schools on November 30. Teacher union leaders praised the decision, noting the city’s rising rate of transmission. But on social media, critics blamed the unions for—you guessed it—putting their wishes ahead of their students. Again, there are plenty of good arguments on both sides of this debate. But we won’t hear them if we presume that our opponents are selfish, stupid, or corrupt. Democracy requires us to believe that reasonable people can come to different conclusions about the same set of facts. And there’s only one institution that can teach future citizens that lesson: the American school.
Alas, the debate over education reflects the same hostile mentality that infects the rest of our politics. It’s my way or the highway. We can’t teach our children the spirit of civility that undergirds democracy if we’re violating it ourselves.
That’s where Gutmann could provide vital help. In sixteen books and hundreds of articles, Gutmann has explored the virtues of conversation and compromise. She’s the embodiment of Joe Biden’s talk of unity, and I hope his familiarity with Penn—which named its global-engagement center in Washington after him—means Gutmann’s name is really in play. Surely, we can promote neighborhood and charter schools, just as we can encourage higher teacher pay and higher academic standards. But none of that will happen if we assume the worst about each other.
It’s also unlikely to occur if you tip the scales towards one side. Since the Department of Education was created, no union leader has been named secretary. It’s a sensible norm worth keeping. But we also don’t want someone like Trump’s education secretary, Betsy DeVos, whose hardened views on charter schools and private school vouchers alienated big swaths of the education community.
Witness the flood of recrimination triggered by rumors that Baltimore schools CEO Sonja Santelises is also under consideration for the post. Santelises has worked for Teach for America and is backed by Democrats for Education Reform, a pro-charter group, which makes her Kryptonite to the unions and other traditional-school advocates. One critic even compared her to Arne Duncan, Obama’s first education secretary, whose advocacy for accountability and charters caused so much consternation that the NEA called on him to resign in 2014.
We need an Education Secretary who can bring these two sides together, or at least try. Who better than someone who has spent her career studying and practicing dialogue across differences? After the 2016 elections, for example, Gutmann tapped Joe Biden and Jeb Bush as “practice professors” at Penn and hosted them for a forum about immigration, where they hammered out a compromise on one of America’s most polarizing issues.
I have no idea if Gutmann would even consider serving in Biden’s cabinet. But here’s what I do know: her country needs her more than Penn does. Especially our fraught public schools. Especially right now.