[[link removed]]
THE POLLING IMPERILMENT
[[link removed]]
Rick Perlstein
September 25, 2024
The American Prospect
[[link removed]]
*
[[link removed]]
*
[[link removed]]
*
*
[[link removed]]
_ Presidential polls are no more reliable than they were a century
ago. So why do they consume our political lives? "When we refer to
“political junkies,” polls are pretty much the junk." _
Democratic presidential nominee Vice President Kamala Harris is on a
roll as voters begin to cast their ballots in the November election.,
Jacquelyn Martin/AP Photo // The American Prospect
In 2016, I experienced the desolation of my candidate for president
losing after the most respected polling experts told me she had a 71.4
percent, 85 percent, 98.2 percent, and even 99 percent chance of
winning. As a historian, I was studying how Ronald Reagan’s runaway
landslide in 1980 was proceeded by every pollster but one supremely
confident that the race was just about tied. I’ve just finished a
fine book published in 2020 that confirms an intuition I’ve been
chewing on since then. It turns out this is practically the historical
norm. W. Joseph Campbell’s _Lost in a Gallup: Polling Failure in
U.S. Presidential Elections _demonstrates—for the first time,
strangely enough, given the robust persuasiveness of its
conclusions—that presidential polls are almost always wrong,
consistently, in deeply patterned ways.
Unusual for any historical narrative, the pattern is almost unchanged
for a good hundred years. First, someone comes forth with some new
means of measuring how people will vote for president, and gets it so
right it feels like magic. That was the accomplishment of a magazine
called _The Literary Digest _between 1924 and 1932. They sent as
many sample ballots as existing technological infrastructure would
allow—in 1932, some 20 million—on postcards that doubled as
subscription ads. Then, with the greatest care, they counted the ones
that came back. For three straight elections, they got it so right the
Raleigh_ News and Observer _half-joked that it “would save
millions in money and time” to “quit holding elections and accept
the _Digest_’s poll as final.”
In 2008, that was the accomplishment of Nate Silver, who called 49 out
of 50 states; in 2012, he notched 50 for 50, scored a best-selling
book, and reportedly accounted in the run-up to the election for 20
percent of the traffic for his new employer, _The_ _New York Times_.
In part two of the cycle, yesterday’s miracle suffers a spectacular
failure—as in the poll-crazy year of 1936, when modern political
polling was invented by the triumvirate of George Gallup, Elmo Roper,
and Archibald Crossley, who all called it for Roosevelt over Alf
Landon, where the _Digest _only gave him 41 percent of the popular
vote. Their technical revolution (directly querying a representative
sample of the electorate) seemed so obvious in retrospect, you wonder
how nobody thought of it before. The same with Silver’s model of
aggregating, then evaluating and weighting for accuracy, existing
state polls.
They’re cocky about it; that’s a pattern, too. That’s what tends
to proceed their most spectacular failures.
In early September of 1948, Elmo Roper announced that he wouldn’t
publish further results, because “the outcome is settled.”
Archibald Crossley vowed to stop counting because “there had been
little late shift in 1936, 1940, and 1944.” Just like in 1928,
people asked why we should even bother having an election. So
confident were the experts that the famous _Chicago Daily
Tribune _early-edition headline “DEWEY DEFEATS TRUMAN” was only
one of many. A German newspaper even described what it claimed was a
raucous celebration of Dewey’s victory in Times Square.
Kind of like in 2016, when reporters saw Clinton associates popping
champagne corks on Election Day in the campaign plane.
POLLSTERS NEXT DO WHAT ONE WOULD EXPECT: They adjust their
methods—but to fight the last war. What else _can _they do?
In 1952, the three famous pollsters, terrified that “another blunder
like that of 1948 would just about finish them off,” as one
newspaper put it, were so timid that all predicted a photo finish.
A_ Wall Street Journal _columnist complained that pollsters were
acting “as coy as the Delphic Oracle (remembered in history for its
skill in framing answers which would be right no matter what
happened).” Ultimately, Dwight D. Eisenhower scored a nationwide
blowout.
George Gallup, whom _Time _had just deemed the “Babe Ruth of the
polling profession”—oops!—gave as his alibi, “No scientific
method is known today which can accurately predetermine the voting
intentions of people who are … undecided.” Nate Silver offered the
same truism 67 years later: “There’s not much a pollster can do
when a voter hasn’t made up her mind.” But you have to
try _something_. So Gallup weighted the 13 percent of his last 1952
sample who hadn’t yet made up their minds as going 3-to-1 for the
Democrat, as they had in 1948. But this time, they mostly went for the
Republican. Oops again.
That error opens up onto the myriad conceptual fallacies built into
the entire enterprise, if something so unavoidable can be called an
“error.” Past performance is no guarantee of future results; but
past performance is all a pollster has to go on. That’s why much of
the process of choosing and weighting samples is … well, you can
call it “more art than science.” Or you can call it
“intuitive.” Or you can call it “trial and error.” But you can
also call it “made up.”
Past performance is no guarantee of future results; but past
performance is all a pollster has to go on.
The electorate, Campbell observes, is “a self-selecting, ephemeral
population that takes shape only when the time comes to vote.” To
model an electorate by polling individuals, you have to measure how
“likely” or “unlikely” that respondent is to vote. In 1949,
Arch Crossley called it “the great question we have not answered.”
In 2016, Pew released a study explaining voter likelihood, as _The
Atlantic _summarized, as “a vexing bit of psychological prediction
pollsters have never gotten quite right.”
They try by sifting voters into categories: male or female, young or
old, religious or not. That latter one makes for a possible
explanation for the debacle of 1980: Evangelical Christians went from
being one of the least active categories of voters to pretty active in
1976, when Jimmy Carter ran, someone they considered one of their own.
But how many of them would vote in 1980, after their leaders threw
Carter over for his alleged liberal heresies? With such a small
“n” (in social science terms) to work with, it was no more
scientific than throwing at a dartboard with a blindfold.
It’s always something. In 1966, when Reagan ran for governor of
California, he outperformed the polls, apparently because many who
voted for him were ashamed to tell a stranger they chose an actor who
was labeled an extremist. How should pollsters have weighted the
“shy Reagan effect” in 1980? Should they have conjured up a
revised weighting in 1984, perhaps one that ran the other way, given
Republicans succeeding in those years making voters feel shy about
their _liberalism_?
You could go either way. But you won’t know whether you were right
until after the election—when all a pollster can do about it is
fight the last war next time.
Many pollsters’ decisions about methodology are by necessity
subjective, even arbitrary. Campbell lists a quick half-dozen: how
they list a candidate’s job title; the order in which the choices
are stated; the gender of the interviewer; whether it’s done by
phone, internet, or in person; even the day of the week. The pollsters
can likewise be arbitrary once the numbers come in. _Lost in a
Gallup _notes a fascinating experiment carried out by Nate Cohn
for _The_ _New York Times_. He had four pollsters interpret the same
raw data from a 2016 poll of Florida. Their choices in how to weight
ranged from Clinton winning by four percentage points to Trump winning
by one.
Cohn concluded, “Clearly, the reported margin of error due to
sampling … doesn’t even come close to capturing total survey error
… There really is a lot of flexibility for pollsters to make choices
that generate a fundamentally different result.”
POLLSTERS TEND NOT TO INTERPRET THIS all as a spur to humility.
Reading Campbell’s book, I found myself creating a section of my
notes headed “Assholes.” Like George Gallup in ’48 giving the
excuse that his mistakes were his audience’s fault: “Most laymen
see no difference between forecasting an election and picking the
winner of a horse race. In due time these people will be educated to
the difference.” Or John Zogby in 2004, when he had joined the herd
who said John Kerry had it in the bag. This was so taken for granted
that on Election Day, senior adviser Bob Shrum said to Kerry, “May I
be the first to call you Mr. President?” When this proved wrong,
Zogby whined, “I don’t know that anyone was hospitalized over my
prediction.”
The spin’s the thing. Admitting the enterprise’s fallibility is
bad for business.
And make no mistakes, this is a _business_. Sometimes, that drives
pollsters’ herdlike caution, where everyone ends up making the same
kind of mistake, like in 1996 when CBS/_New York Times_, Pew, Harris,
and ABC/_Washington Post _all tipped it to Clinton from a range of 11
to 18 (he won by 8.5). Sometimes attempts at market-driven product
differentiation create a temptation that sends things off the rails.
According to a 1976 exposé of the polling industry called _Lies,
Damn Lies, and Statistics_, Louis Harris’s frustration at being only
the “second best-known pollster” grated on him so much that he
made “mistakes of judgement in efforts to scoop Gallup.” Like when
he published a poll for the Sunday papers before the 1968 election
that showed Humphrey passing Nixon on the home straight by four, where
he had trailed the whole campaign. Plot twists sell, after all.
In 2000, Gallup’s own bid for product differentiation was a daily
tracking poll. It was advertised as “a continually changing portrait
of where the American public stands.” Continually change it
did—over three days in early October, from Bush +11 to Gore +7.
It’s a good example of how blithely pollsters can invent a reality
they purport to describe. All these numbers could ever be was a
statistical artifact of the reality that the more undecided or “no
opinion” voters there are, the less predictive a poll can be.
Polling so closely was _inherently misleading_. Instead, the
implication was that it proved the electorate was fantastically
volatile. Which at the very least makes for a more entertaining horse
race. “I would love to be tracking the election that Gallup is
tracking,” one more responsible practitioner rued. “It’s a lot
more interesting than the one I’m looking at.”
Another consequence of the capitalist imperatives of the polling biz
is a little bit horrifying. Since 1936, pollsters have saved money by
stopping their counts days or even weeks before an election. The
pollsters who got 1980 wrong, for example, had all stopped before they
could measure the game-changing consequences of that year’s only
debate, held the Tuesday before the election.
It was a money thing. In Jack Germond and Jules Witcover’s _Blue
Smoke and Mirrors: How Reagan Won and Why Carter Lost the Election of
1980_, you can read the classic scene in which Pat Caddell breaks the
bad news to the president on Air Force One that he’s about to suffer
a landslide loss. Caddell knows this thanks to their record $2 million
polling budget, which let him survey right up to the end. The voters
waiting for Carter on the tarmac in Georgia, on the other hand, were
lost in their Gallup: They presumed the election was tied.
This should be an imperishable lesson. Except, in 2016—_there you go
again_—Wisconsin’s “benchmark” state poll, run by the
Marquette University Law School, stopped contacting
voters _nine_ days early, notched Hillary Clinton nine points ahead,
then ate their proverbial crow when Donald Trump won that pivotal
battleground state.
THE PROBLEM OF THE MYRIAD STATE POLLS brings us to Nate Silver and
his epigones. Silver’s oft-imitated method, as Campbell summarizes
it, is “to assess and aggregate national state-level polls, then
crank them through a statistical model that considers past performance
of the polls and the rigor of their survey methodology … among other
variables.” The idea, like in an insurance risk pool, is that with a
big enough mega-sample, the bad cancels out the good.
But an aggregator can only be as good as the polls he aggregates—and
as we’ve seen, bad predictions often come in herds.
He can also only be as good as how soundly he weights them according
to past performance. But of course, performance of that Marquette
University poll had been unimpeachable, until it wasn’t; as had been
the 1920s _Literary Digest _poll; as had been the pre-1948
triumvirate polls.
Life can only be understood backward, but it must be lived forward.
Subjective and arbitrary decisions must therefore be made by
aggregators, just as much as by traditional pollsters—if not more
so.
There is a young political analyst named Joshua Cohen, whom I admire
very much for grasping, foregrounding, and skillfully applying the
necessarily _multifaceted _tools a responsible political
prognosticator must use. In his Substack, he published a
devastating two
[[link removed]]-part
[[link removed]] critique
of Silver that contains a rigorous documentation of how atrocious his
judgment can be in making these decisions. There is a polling
organization called the Trafalgar Group that functions like a
propaganda outfit, publishing Republican-leaning “shock polls” for
media attention. Trafalgar got lucky in 2020 when other, more
responsible pollsters happened to undercount eventual Republican
strength: That meant, like a blind squirrel, Trafalgar was the only
one that was “right.”
So Silver graded them an A- for reliability. Even though their
principal, one Robert Cahaly, is an advocate of the Big Lie. Silver
then denied that they “always” lean in the Republican direction,
because, after all, they only started in 2016.
Cohen argues that Silver hasn’t had a truly successful election
since 2012. But boy, can he spin. In fact, when it comes to petulant
pollster alibis, the former baseball statistician truly is the
field’s Babe Ruth.
Clinton-Trump 2016 was supposed to be the Year of Silver. But it
started with a demonstration of his doofishness. Seeking a
scientific-seeming method in order, for the first time, to
FiveThirtyEight a primary process, he hit upon counting endorsements.
Using this method, one of his staffers, Harry Enten, gave Donald Trump
a “negative 10 percent” chance of the nomination. Nonetheless, by
general-election time Silver-mania was in full effect, joined in the
field by any number of aggregate-building imitators—for with
aggregating, this whole polling problem had _really _been licked.
The one at HuffPost awarded Clinton a 99 percent chance of winning.
The one at Princeton was run by a neuroscientist named Sam Wang who
said he would eat a bug on live TV if Trump won. (He did.)
As for Silver himself, he blithely parried critics by observing that,
well, a 71.4 percent chance of Clinton means a 28.6 percent chance of
Trump. So was he even actually _wrong_?
To be fair, all the big presidential pollsters do this to greater or
lesser degrees. Their never-wrongness, after all, is their value
proposition. Spinning is part of the business model.
In 1952, George Gallup said that they wouldn’t be “predicting the
winner without qualification.” Then, after predicting a tie that
turned out to be an Eisenhower landslide, he took out a full-page ad
in _Editor & Publisher _claiming he got it right on the
nose—citing only his results for _decided _voters. His competitor
Elmo Roper lied “that he made no forecast and never said the race
was close.”
Likewise Silver. Cohen nails him dead to rights:
He was on the top of the world after the 2012 election, with everyone
desperate to hear from the race’s second biggest winner on how he
got it so right. He could have tempered their excitement, explaining
the limits of his own role in his own forecasts, how he
never _technically _made any calls, how much he relied on the
collective polling industry getting it right. Instead, he played right
into their mythical conception of him, taking full credit
[[link removed]] for “calls” as
noncommittal as the 50.2% chance he gave for Obama to win Florida.
There would never be a pained explanation as to why he
didn’t _technically _get the election right, like how he explained
after 2016 and 2022 that he didn’t get the election wrong. He was
going all in, betting that he could fully sustain his new image as a
clairvoyant mastermind.
THAT POLLS DO NOT PREDICT PRESIDENTIAL election outcomes any better
now than they did a century ago is but one conclusion of this
remarkable history. A second conclusion lurks more in the
background—but I think it is the most important one to absorb.
For most of this century, the work was the subject of extraordinary
ambivalence, even among pollsters. In 1948, George Gallup called
presidential polling (as distinguished from issue polling, which has
its own problems) “this Frankenstein.” In 1980, Elmo Roper
admitted that “our polling techniques have gotten more and more
sophisticated, yet we seem to be missing more and more elections.”
All along, conventional journalists made a remarkably consistent case
that they were empty calories that actively crowded out genuine civic
engagement: “Instead of feeling the pulse of democracy,” as a 1949
critic put it, “Dr. Gallup listens to its baby talk.”
Critics rooted for polls to fail. Eric Sevareid, in 1964, recorded his
“secret glee and relief when the polls go wrong,” which might
restore “the mystery and suspense of human behavior eliminated by
clinical dissection.” If they were always right, as James Reston
picked up the plaint in 1970, “Who would vote?” Edward R. Murrow
argued in 1952 that polling “contributed something to the
dehumanization of society,” and was delighted, that year, when
“the people surprised the pollsters … It restored to the
individual, I suspect, some sense of his own sovereignty” over the
“petty tyranny of those who assert that they can tell us what we
think.”
Still and all, the practice grew like Topsy. There was an
“extraordinary expansion” in polls for the 1980 election,
including the first partnerships between polling and media
organizations. The increase was accompanied by a measurable failure of
quality, which gave birth to a new critique: news organizations
“making their own news and flacking it as if it were an event over
which they had no control.”
And so, after the 1980 debacle, high-minded observers began wondering
whether presidential polls had “outlived their usefulness,”
whether the priesthood would end up “defrocked.” In 1992, the
popular columnist Mike Royko went further, proposing sabotage: Maybe
if people just lied, pollsters would have to give up. In 2000, Alison
Mitchell of _The_ _New York Times _proposed a polling moratorium in
the four weeks leading up to elections, noting the “numbing length
… to which polling is consuming both politics and journalism.”
Instead, polling proliferated: a “relentless barrage,”
the _American Journalism Review _complained, the media obsessing
over each statistically insignificant blip. Then, something truly
disturbing started happening: People stopped complaining.
A last gasp was 2008, when Arianna Huffington revived Royko’s call
for sabotage, until, two years later, she acquired the aggregator
Polling.com and renamed it HuffPost Pollster. “Polling, whether we
like it or not,” the former skeptic proclaimed, “is a big part of
how we communicate about politics.”
And so it is.
Even as the resources devoted to every other kind of journalism
atrophied, poll-based political culture has overwhelmed us, crowding
out all other ways of thinking about public life. Joshua Cohen tells
the story of the time Silver, looking for a way to earn eyeballs
between elections, considered making a model to predict congressional
votes. But voters, he snidely remarked, “don’t care about bills
being passed.”
Pollsters might not be able to tell us _what_ we think about
politics. But increasingly, they tell us _how _to think about
politics—like them. Following polls has become our vision of what
political participation _is_. Our therapy—headlines like the one on
AlterNet last week, “Data Scientist Who Correctly Predicted 2020
Election Now Betting on ‘Landslide’ Harris Win.” Our political
masochism: “Holy cow, did you hear about that _Times _poll.”
“Don’t worry, I heard it’s an outlier …”
_The_ _Washington Post_’s polling director once said, “There’s
something addictive about polls and poll numbers.” He’s right.
When we refer to “political junkies,” polls are pretty much the
junk.
For some reason, I’ve been able to pretty much swear off the stuff,
beyond mild indulgence. Maybe it’s my dime-store Buddhism. I try to
stay in the present—and when it comes to the future, try to stick
with things I can _do_. Maybe, I hereby offer myself as a role model?
As a “political expert,” friends, relatives, and even strangers
are always asking me, “Who’s going to win?” I say I really have
no idea. People are always a little shocked: Prediction has become
what people think political expertise is _for_.
Afterward, the novelty of the response gets shrugged off, and we
can _talk_. Beyond polling’s baby talk. About our common life
together, about what we want to happen, and how we might make it so.
But no predictions about whether this sort of thing might ever
prevail. No predictions at all.
_[RICK PERLSTEIN is the author of a four-volume series on the history
of America’s political and cultural divisions, and the rise of
conservatism, from the 1950s to the election of Ronald Reagan. He
lives in Chicago.]_
_Read the original article at Prospect.org
[[link removed]]. _
_Used with the permission. © The American Prospect
[[link removed]], Prospect.org, 2024 [[link removed]].
All rights reserved. _
_Support the American Prospect [[link removed]]._
_Click here [[link removed]] to support the Prospect's
brand of independent impact journalism_
* Politics
[[link removed]]
* 2024 Elections
[[link removed]]
* opinion polls
[[link removed]]
* media
[[link removed]]
* Media News
[[link removed]]
* Donald Trump
[[link removed]]
* Kamala Harris
[[link removed]]
* GOP
[[link removed]]
* Democratic Party
[[link removed]]
* MAGA
[[link removed]]
* X
[[link removed]]
* media consolidation
[[link removed]]
*
[[link removed]]
*
[[link removed]]
*
*
[[link removed]]
INTERPRET THE WORLD AND CHANGE IT
Submit via web
[[link removed]]
Submit via email
Frequently asked questions
[[link removed]]
Manage subscription
[[link removed]]
Visit xxxxxx.org
[[link removed]]
Twitter [[link removed]]
Facebook [[link removed]]
[link removed]
To unsubscribe, click the following link:
[link removed]