John E Palmer
The votes are in, the gubernatorial primary has been called, and the political apocalypse never arrived.
For months, California Democrats warned of a nightmare scenario: a fractured Democratic field could split the vote so badly that two Republicans would advance to the general election. The possibility dominated the conversation and triggered handwringing about California's top-two system.
Yet when the dust settled, California got one Democrat and one Republican advancing to November.
The sky didn't fall. The dreaded two-Republican scenario never materialized. Once again, Democratic fears of a top-two disaster proved unfounded.
No surprise, a combination of donors, campaign professionals, party leaders, media coverage, and ultimately voters themselves were never likely to allow such an outcome. The incentives built into California's top-two system pushed everyone toward consolidation long before ballots were cast.
To be fair, one wild card did emerge. Eric Swalwell's departure from the race triggered a seismic reshuffling of support that almost nobody anticipated. Suddenly, a significant bloc of Democratic voters had to find a new home. That consolidation of support among fewer Democratic candidates may well have been the single biggest factor preventing the catastrophe many Democrats feared.
Yet even if Swalwell had remained in the race, the election still would have exposed a deeper problem embedded within the top-two system itself.
The governor's primary became an exercise in strategic voting.
With only two candidates advancing, polling increasingly suggested that the race had narrowed to Xavier Becerra, Steve Hilton, and Tom Steyer. For supporters of Katie Porter, Matt Mahan, Chad Bianco, Antonio Villaraigosa, Tony Thurmond and others, the calculation became less about who they most wanted as governor and more about the potential downside of voting for someone with little chance of advancing.
A Bianco supporter may have concluded that voting for Hilton was the best way to stop Steyer. A Porter supporter may have reasoned that Steyer offered the best chance to block Hilton. Some Mahan supporters may have viewed Hilton as preferable to a more progressive Democrat and adjusted accordingly.
In each case, voters faced the same question: if my favorite candidate can't win, who should I support instead?
In the San Francisco Chronicle, opinion columnist and editorial board member Emily Hoeven's sub-header read: "Many politicos view it as inevitable that Hilton will face off against either Becerra or Steyer in November. Don't let that impact how you vote."
That's admirable advice. But wouldn't it be nice to have a system where voters could follow her advice without any adverse consequences?
What voters were doing throughout this primary was attempting to simulate a ranked ballot in their heads. They were asking themselves: "If my candidate can't win, where would I want my vote to go next?"
A ranked ballot simply allows voters to express those backup preferences directly. Instead of trying to guess which candidates are viable, voters can support their true favorite while indicating who they prefer if that candidate falls short.
A Porter supporter could rank Porter first and Steyer second. A Mahan supporter could rank Mahan first and Hilton second. A Bianco supporter could rank Bianco first and Hilton second.
Nobody would be forced to abandon a favorite candidate simply to avoid helping one they dislike.
Unfortunately, some Sacramento political operatives from both major parties are responding to this election by proposing to turn back the clock and restore closed partisan primaries. That would be a mistake.
The most important innovation of top-two wasn't only that it advanced two candidates. It was that it created a nonpartisan primary in which every voter in California could participate and every candidate running had to appeal to the entire electorate.
Under partisan primaries, candidates know their first electoral hurdle is winning over their party's most active voters. Under a nonpartisan primary, candidates know their first date with the voters is with everyone. That changes incentives. It rewards candidates who can reach beyond their partisan base.
In many districts, top-two has also produced same-party November contests. In deep-blue districts, Democrat-versus-Democrat races can provide voters with meaningful choices that would never emerge from a closed, partisan primary. The same is true in heavily Republican areas.
California should preserve those strengths.
But we can do better than top-two.
A top-four or top-five primary paired with a ranked ballot in November would preserve the benefits of a nonpartisan primary while eliminating much of the strategic voting that now distorts election outcomes.
Under top-five, this year's finalists might well have included Becerra, Hilton, Steyer, Porter, and Mahan. Instead of narrowing the field to two candidates in June, Californians could evaluate a broader range of choices in November, when turnout is far higher and the electorate is most representative.
For single-seat offices such as governor, mayor, or attorney general, a top-four or top-five primary followed by an instant runoff (RCV) general election in November makes a great deal of sense. Legislative elections present different challenges, and proportional systems may ultimately offer a better solution there. But for statewide executive offices, expanding voter choice while ensuring majority support is a straightforward improvement.
The lesson from this governor's race is simple: voters should not have to choose between voting honestly and voting effectively.
California shouldn't retreat from top-two; it should expand and improve it. More choice in November. Fewer wasted votes. Winners with broader support. And a nonpartisan primary that continues to encourage candidates to govern with the entire electorate in mind.
That's moving forward, not backward.