The American two-party system is terrible. It’s a zero-sum monstrosity: anything that hurts your opponent helps you. The more we’re locked into our two-party, zero-sum system, the worse it gets. Political scientist Leo Drutman called it a Doom Loop. Sure, Trump may finally be gone, but Dems and the GOP are still in that endless cage fight. But imagine it was different, and we stop our deathmatch. We can be friends again. Wouldn’t that be nice?
The two-party system is zero-sum: there’s nowhere else votes can go. Imagine you, the politician, make a hateful attack. Then sure, you look like a goon. But if the other dude looks worse, even a little, you’re ahead. That’s what makes it zero-sum.
These zero-sum calculations cause terrible results outside of politics. People get depressed and cynical, and they tune out. I know I do. The noise hurts, tearing holes in the social fabric and weakening the compact that holds us together as a nation. But inside politics? Get enough hits on your opponent, and you win office. That’s how “zero-sum” works. Our two-party system rewards political destruction. That’s why we’re at war with each other.
I’m not pretending Democrats are saints, but Republicans have primarily driven the rage machine. After Nixon, divisive attacks were the only path they saw to power. Political operatives like Lee Atwater stoked racial war while reducing real problems to bumper-sticker wedge issues. “Love it or leave it.” Republicans may look reactionary and small-minded, hobbled by endless political litmus-tests. Still, they make Democrats seem inhumane and incompetent to a significant tranche of voters. Republicans began winning office, even when their policies didn’t make sense.
What, you want to suggest the GOP won on their policies? Get serious. After Trump, we can stop pretending. Even Republicans don’t believe in their policies. And yet the GOP wins states they should lose by miles. I know conservative voters hate to hear it, but it’s true. Republicans target the social safety net like it was a personal affront. And yet, the voters who benefit the most from those programs vote party-line “R” in every election.
Think about the most impoverished states: Mississippi, Louisiana, Kentucky, Arkansas, West Virginia, Alabama, Oklahoma, Tennessee, and South Carolina. Economically, these are welfare states. They’re poor, their people underemployed, with shrinking industries and little new economic growth. They need lots of help, and they get it. The federal government gives them back much more money than they pay in taxes. Democrats champion all those social and financial programs, and they do so over Republican objections. And every one of those states takes that money and votes reliably, bright-red Republican. Yes, they vote for the party that attacks the social safety net, cuts benefits, and attacks any federal program that benefits the poor or the middle class. “Don’t mess with my Medicare!” Does that make sense?
Yes. Sorry, but Republican voting makes sense. It has to; it’s reality. Even when you can’t understand why that’s true, it’s still true. I grant that it’s odd and confusing that so many destitute states vote Republican, but that’s what they’ve been doing for generations. In the current system, conservative wedge attacks work.
Conservatives hate it when liberals suggest Republicans are duping their voters. That’s condescending and patronizing, they say, and they’re right. And it’s also true. Sorry, but the people in these states vote against their own interests. The rage machine has decades of experience. They’ve worked out exactly how to use political absolutism, class warfare, racism, grievance, and wedge issues to manipulate voters. “I heard that Antifa that sacked the Capitol building!” It’s like H.P. Lovecraft wrote political science. The rage machine works horrifyingly well.
I know I’ve said that Republicans are self-dealing liars with evil motives. Because they are. (So, I guess I’m not stopping anytime soon, either.) But despite appearances — and the inexplicable reality of Louie Gohmert, Jim Jeffries, Josh Hawley, and Ted Cruz — Republican scorched-earth politics isn’t driven by small-minded idiots. The morons make bad situations worse, but the root cause is the two-party duopoly. Republicans chose endless warfare because they have no choice. It’s the only path to power for a minority party. They won’t change because they can’t. Political realities lock us into this deathmatch. But suppose we tried to change. Suppose we elect nothing but excellent people to office. Can we be friends again?
No. Well, maybe briefly, but that’s all. The underlying causes would still drive politics into warfare.
But we could fix the underlying causes. Swear to god. All we need is more choices. Think about the times you’ve seen elections with more than two candidates. With more than two options, the whole dynamic shifts. It’s like everyone declared peace unilaterally. Rabid attack-dog operatives politely disagree with each other. Politicians brag about working cooperatively. Everyone’s nice to each other.
Don’t be fooled. Our politicians didn’t suddenly become better people; this is a bald political calculation. Having choices breaks the zero-sum jail. If Candidate Mark attacks Candidate LaToya, Candidate Cynthia suddenly looks way better to voters. Attacks stop working.
And RCV can increase cooperation further. Right now, voting is winner-takes-all. A politician needs to be each voter’s first and only choice. It’s winner-take-all; second place is called ‘losing.’ It doesn’t matter if one side hates you in the end, so long as you get more votes. Those voters don’t matter.
With more than two candidates, though, that changes, and Ranked-Choice Voting amplifies the benefits. Without RCV, winning is still everything. With RCV, if you can’t win, you still want to be people’s second choice. Even being third is better than nothing. Their vote still matters to you. Politicians even cooperate during elections. And more candidates in a race (up to a point) increases the political benefits of cooperation. The sweet spot is somewhere around 3 to 6 people running for a single position. A wider field of candidates (along with RCV) changes the basic rules for winning and losing. It shakes everything. We can be friends again.
This isn’t just guesswork. Maine uses RCV statewide, Alaska approved RCV in 2020. There’s also New York City, San Francisco, and around 16 other cities and regions. RCV is worldwide, too: Ireland, Australia, New Zealand, Northern Ireland, Malta, Scotland, India, Pakistan, Nepal, and more. Some are new, but some have been going for a century or more. The result? Moderate, cooperative governments. The worst complaint is that RCV politics can be boring. I’d be good with that.
Yes, we can be friends again. But only if that’s what we want.

