Senate Race Revealed Shortcomings of California's 'Top Two' Primary Reform

A change that promised to be a moderating influence on politics has instead made campaigns more vicious than ever.

If you think debates about tinkering with election rules are vicious, then you need to turn your attention to the endless battles between baseball's traditionalists and reformers. The former treat America's pastime as something almost sacred—a bastion of timeless and slow-moving beauty in an ever-changing world. Unlike professional football, which is forever tinkering with its rules, baseball should, in their view, cling to the past.

"I have observed a creep towards instant gratification in a game whose best quality was that it challenged us to be patient," wrote traditionalist Noah Gittell. But after seeing the results of Major League Baseball's recent changes that are designed to speed up the game (e.g., adding a pitch clock), he decided that the tweaks are OK. This isn't the first time the league has changed rules, he noted.

Columnist George Will, who wrote a book celebrating the culture of the game, rejoiced at the new rules. He believes the latest rule adjustments restore the spirit of the past, when fast-moving games were common and athleticism was more important than analytics (see Moneyball). They might also restore attendance levels. Sometimes the best way to energize an institution is to adjust the way it operates.

At the last Giants game I attended, I nearly fell asleep from boredom, so I'm not the best person to pontificate about balls and strikes, but I see parallels with our election system. For years, reformers have tried to re-energize the democratic spirit by endlessly changing and adapting the voting process. They are responding largely to low voter turnouts.

Unlike their counterparts in baseball, America's politicians haven't come up with the right formula yet—perhaps because most of the people proposing rule changes have a vested interest in the outcome of the specific contests (unlike MLB officials, whose interest centers on the game itself.) It is clear from Tuesday's primary election, however, that the latest "big" California primary rule change is a bust.

In 2010, California voters approved Proposition 14, which created a "top two" primary for every election except president, central committee, and nonpartisan elections such as boards of supervisors and superintendent of public instruction. Under the old system, Republicans would choose their candidate and Democrats theirs. They would face off in November. Under the new rules, everyone runs against each other. The top two vote-getters face off in the general election, regardless of their party.

Supporters made grandiose promises about how the new system would reduce partisanship and force candidates to moderate their positions by campaigning for all voters rather than the party faithful. It was going to increase voter participation and strengthen democracy. "It's time to end the bickering and gridlock and fix the system," according to Prop. 14's "yes" ballot argument. Supporters claimed it would force politicians to work together for the good of the state.

One needn't be a cynic to realize that "top two" didn't usher in an era of peace and goodwill. California's elections are more vicious than ever. The state Republican Party has largely faded away, but the result is nastier battles among Democratic factions. The Legislature and state constitutional offices are now filled with progressive ideologues. Tuesday's turnout was low. One can't blame Prop. 14 for everything, but it hasn't lived up to its billing.

"Top two" created a new set of rules that ambitious politicians can game. Consider the race for U.S. Senate. In the past, Democrat Adam Schiff would have debated his Democratic opponents in a primary that focused on which candidate appealed best to Democratic primary voters. Republican Steve Garvey would have debated his GOP opponents in an effort to woo GOP voters.

Instead, Schiff used reverse psychology by running ads attacking Garvey in conservative media as a means to bolster support for Garvey. It was a clever ploy to keep his main opponents, Democrats Katie Porter and Barbara Lee, out of the final runoff. The end result is the same—the leading Democrat squares off against the leading Republican in November, with Schiff almost certainly winning. But who can claim this goofy process has reduced bickering and cynicism?

Politico also reported that one union, annoyed at state Sen. Josh Newman (D–Orange County) for not supporting one of its signature bills, "launched and funded a collection of neophyte Democratic challengers" in an effort to dilute the Democratic primary vote and keep Newman from advancing to November. It failed. Similar gamesmanship took place in traditional primaries, but the "top two" made these games easier to play.

It's probably time to change the rules yet again, perhaps to a "final five" system (more on that in a future column). Just like with baseball, there's nothing wrong with adjusting rules to get a better outcome. But let's not pretend any rejiggering is a panacea for whatever ails our election system—and let's make sure the new rules actually make sense.

This column was first published in The Orange County Register.