In this most electorially messed-up of counties in the most electorially messed-up of states, getting rid of the voting machines was a good first step. But the job isn't yet complete—and the human factor also needs fixing.
"Ohio voter": for years, this phrase has been threatening to become as oxymoronic as "jumbo shrimp." Once upon a time, the henhouse known as the Ohio elections system was supervised by that foxiest of foxes, Republican Ken Blackwell. He's gone now, but not forgotten. His last, final act of desperation as secretary of state—trying to figure out how to disqualify his rival in the 2006 gubernatorial race from being placed on the ballot at all—failed to work. But he still managed to leave quite a large mess behind for his successor, Democrat Jennifer Brunner, to mop up—especially in Cuyahoga County, where Cleveland is located.
So far, she's taken one huge and very visible step in Cuyahoga, and one that many people believe was highly necessary: scrapping all the voting machines. Even the punch-card system, which is what my polling place had used, is gone. All Cuyahoga County voting done in last Tuesday's primary was done the old-fashioned way, on paper ballots.
Is the system better now? Yes. Is it perfect yet? No.
To illustrate the points at which it still needs to improve, I will describe my own personal voting experience, as a non-party-affiliated voter wishing, for the first time, to vote in a primary. In Ohio, this is legal; a nonaffiliated voter can either choose to vote with an "issues only" ballot, on which no candidates appear, or by requesting a Republican or Democratic ballot. Choosing a party ballot then affiliates that voter with that party, at least for the time being. Poll workers are permitted to challenge the voter's desire to vote with that party, and even to require the voter to sign a statement of intention to support that party's principles. However, it is neither mandatory that poll workers challenge them nor that such voters sign fealty oaths to the other party. (It's for this reason that I don't doubt for a minute that Ohio had many Republican "crossover" voters who eagerly cast ballots for Hillary Clinton in hopes of setting up what they believed would be a more beatable Democratic nominee in the general election. In this state, crossover voting appears to have been relatively easy and painless.)
Another note I wanted to emphasize: in Ohio, Republican and Democratic primary ballots are distinctly different from independent or "issues only" ballots. There is no option in which one can ask for and receive an "independent" ballot that lists candidates for both parties. Thus, there is no "double bubble" nonsense to confuse or possibly disenfranchise anyone, as there was in Los Angeles County in California. If you are an independent or non-party-affiliated voter in Ohio and you want to vote for any candidates at all, you must request either a Republican or Democratic ballot. Period.
One final small note, for what it's worth: I am a white voter who lives in the heavily African American 11th Congressional District, the one with Ohio's highest concentration of delegates.
I voted early in the morning, before work. Just as was the case in 2004, the line was not long and I was quickly accommodated. When I requested a Democratic ballot, I was not challenged, questioned or required to sign anything; I was simply handed the ballot. I was also handed some sort of cardboard folder that was supposed to help ensure my "privacy" by helping me cover my ballot. I never did figure out how that was supposed to work.
We were to mark the ballots (both sides) at the same three-sided stand-up stations that had been used for the old punch-card balloting we used to do at our polling place. This wasn't easy, as the paper ballot was lengthy, and awkward to fit into the surface provided and still be able to get your arms and hands into the right position to mark it. Turning the ballot diagonally wasn't much of a help, as it was so long it tended to flip up against one of the sides of the station and droop over your hands.
Marking the ballots was a matter of blackening ovals next to the candidates' names with an ink pen chained to the booth, the way the old punch-card styluses had once been chained.
The poll worker told me that when I was finished completing both sides, I should tear off a perforated tab at one end of the ballot, hand the tab to her, then slide my ballot, unfolded, into the slit on a large cardboard box provided on a table for that purpose.
I pointed out to her that the ballot tab had printed upon it, in large letters, something to the effect of: "DO NOT REMOVE THIS TAB. YOUR VOTE WILL NOT COUNT IF THIS TAB IS REMOVED FROM THE BALLOT. IF YOU TEAR OFF THIS TAB, YOU WILL BREAK YOUR MOTHER'S BACK." (OK, I made that last part up.) She just smiled and mumbled something about this being the way things were supposed to be done. Not knowing what else to do, and not having time to challenge her (I did have to get to work), I removed the tab, handed it to her, and slid the ballot in the box.
As I headed out to work, I hoped against hope that by taking the word of a possibly ill-trained poll worker over what the ballot itself stated in huge letters, I was not effectively disenfranchising myself. Sure, I thought, removing the tabs could be a new wrinkle in the process; actual procedures might have been changed after the ballots were printed. But it still worried me. Of these kinds of simple confusions are disenfranchisements sometimes made. It isn't always dramatic gestures, like barring people from the polling booth. It's little stuff like this. The mix-ups. The "I didn't know what to do, but this is what they told me to do, so I did it"s. The quickness of people—even people like me—to follow a rule, even a seemingly contradictory one, just because someone else mumbles something about how we're supposed to. It's human nature. Didn't they come up with a ton of stunts on the old Candid Camera show that proved it?
I thought of the wording on tags that used to appear on pillowcases, furniture, mattresses: "THIS TAG NOT TO BE REMOVED UNDER PENALTY OF LAW." And people kept those ugly tags on their belongings for years, irrationally afraid that the cops would burst into their homes and arrest them the moment they got sick of the damn thing and ripped it off. Until the wording was changed to make it clear that it was perfectly OK for the end user to remove the tag.
Such were my thoughts until I finally found evidence on the Plain Dealer Web site that I was not alone in my concerns, that other voters were similarly puzzled about having been told to remove a tab that said "DO NOT REMOVE," that poll workers appeared to have been doling out mixed information, and that to prevent this problem from unfairly disenfranchising anyone, all ballots would be counted, with tabs or without.
So, I feel as if maybe I can be assured that my vote counted this time.
But...that having been said, here's what I'd like to see done in Ohio by the time the presidential election rolls around:
- Every county voting on paper ballots. EVERY one. This time, we still had people in tiny rural counties using "modern" touch screens and laughing at those backwards folks in the big city of Cleveland who vote on old-fashioned paper. Maybe these rural residents wouldn't feel so sophisticated if they knew how the "modern" machines could mangle their vote. Hang the taxpayer expense, and make paper voting mandatory for all. Even if it makes them feel "backward" and "un-modern." Oh, and please don't run out of ballots, the way some polling places ran short on Democratic ballots this time around; have plenty to anticipate the turnout.
- Hand count the votes at the polls. No centralized count, no automated scanning. This would eliminate concerns about chain of custody and the reliability of the scanners.
- Give voters voting conditions designed to accommodate their need for comfort and privacy with paper ballots. Cardboard "covers" and voting booths left over from the punch-card days may have been a necessary stopgap measure for this primary, but they aren't going to cut it over the long term. The ability to cast a secret ballot is central to a democracy. People should feel their ballot really is secret.
- Make sure there's plenty of assistance for the elderly and anyone else who doesn't find blackening little ovals an easy task for their eye-hand coordination.
- Provide envelopes or folders or something that permits voters to hide their ballots as they slide them into the box. Again, people need reassurance that their ballot is secret. If they don't get it, they might fold up their ballots in an attempt to hide their votes, which might cause problems if the ballots continue to be scanned—and it isn't that helpful anyway, when you have to mark both sides.
- Provide a ballot box that looks more secure than a cardboard box with taped-up or plastic-tied sides. This was another aspect of the polling place that bothered some people. Here we are helping to choose the next President of the United States of America, and we have to slide our ballot into something that looks like a larger version of the shoebox into which we slid our ballot for sixth grade student council president. Impressions matter.
- Educate the poll workers better. They should not be confused about whether or not to remove tabs from ballots, or when it should be done, or who should do it. More importantly, they should not, EVER, be telling voters to disregard ANYTHING printed on a ballot. What—we're supposed to disregard the huge letters saying "DO NOT REMOVE THIS TAB," but obey the smaller ones saying "Candidates for Chief Dogcatcher—Vote for only ONE"? No wonder voters are so "dumb" and "can't be trusted to fill out a simple ballot." Being told "Yes, you have to do what this part says, but you should actually do the OPPOSITE of what this part says" is enough to give even the smartest of voters a headache. And yes, do take into account that we may not all have all day to clarify things with the poll workers. We may need to get to work. The weather may be getting bad. We may need to pick the kids up from someplace. Whatever.
I know it's a tall order to expect all of these things by November. But if we get them, it'll go a long way toward restoring the people of Ohio's faith in their votes being counted.
If you're an Ohio voter, how did you feel about your voting experience last Tuesday? And if you're in Cuyahoga, how was it for you? I'm interested in seeing your comments.