It’s all about the delegates. The political mavens watching the Super Tuesday returns last night knew that the number allocated to each candidate would be the most significant indicator of the race’s direction, and the only possible answer to that nagging but nonetheless necessary question: who won?
Reality presented a bit of a problem, though. As we knew going in, the delegates on the Democrat side are doled out using a terribly confusing system. It awards them based on a combination of the proportion of the vote each candidate captures in the state overall, and in individual congressional districts (this is the best breakdown I’ve seen of this Byzantine process). While in many of the GOP primaries the winner of the popular vote also gets all the delegates, for the Democrats things are not so clear-cut. The popular vote tells us something, but not everything, about the delegate count. The concept of a “win,” for instance, doesn’t really make sense, as all the candidates—especially in an extremely close race like Clinton-Obama—end up “winning” some delegates.
And yet, and yet focusing on the delegate count would have given all those pundits and newscasters very little to prattle on about during the primetime hours on the east coast last night. So, as we suspected, based on the popular vote alone, large boxes were checked on the plasma screens, states were filled in on the map in shades of turquoise and fuchsia as having been “won” by one candidate or another. There was talk of “nail-bitingly” close finishes, with Obama and Clinton separated by only a few hundred votes (“just like in 2000!”), and largely empty claims about victory.
Then we wake up this morning to find sober headlines that conform much more to the truth (that is, to the delegate count), like this one in The New York Times: “Support Divided, Top Democrats Trade Victories.”
First, it must be said, you can’t completely blame the broadcast operations for focusing on the popular vote. For one thing, the delegate breakdown can’t be had until there is a complete picture of how each state voted, district by district. So, making delegate tallies the focal point of coverage would have provided little to broadcast beyond speculation until the total vote counts were in from the earliest voting state, sometime around ten or eleven o’clock, EST. The popular vote—which of course is easier to project based on a small percentage of returns—is also more fun. It provides a clear narrative. What joy would Chris Matthews or Tim Russert get from saying that Obama got thirty-two delegates versus Clinton’s thirty-one, and then having to explain, in detail that neither may completely understand, what that means?
Also, how long has it been since we had a race in which every delegate mattered this much? By my count, 1980, when Teddy Kennedy challenged Jimmy Carter. It occurred to me that the intellectual muscle needed to parse such a tight—and absurdly complicated and illogical—electoral outcome might have atrophied in the intervening decades. A whole generation of journalists grew up not really needing to look that closely. Consider that Tom Brokaw, who took over NBC Nightly News in 1982, was among the most insistent last night on thinking in terms of state wins and momentum. When coupled with the need for speed that dominates television coverage, it seems obvious that the popular vote, an easily digestible and quickly predicted number, would dominate.