Partisanship: good or bad?

Nancy Rosenblum posted an article based on her recent book, “On the Side of the Angels: An Appreciation of Parties and Partisanship,” which she describes as her “analysis of antipartyism and attempt at rehabilitation.” Following up at Cato Unbound is Brink Lindsey, who writes that “under present circumstances at least, partisan zeal ought to be attacked rather than defended.”

I’ll summarize what Rosenblum and Lindsey have to say and then give my reaction (much of which is based on data from our Red State, Blue State book).

Rosenblum writes:

Partisanship needs a moment of appreciation. We recognize “partisan” as invective; the barb comes out of improbable mouths, a virtual reflex. While party activists battle one another each claiming they are on side of the angels, critics demonize them all and praise independents as their undisputed moral superiors. . . . One third of survey respondents agree with the proposition “The truth is we probably don’t need political parties in America anymore,” and a third of voters prefers that “candidates run as individuals without party labels.” . . .

As Lindsey puts it:

Nancy Rosenblum makes a convincing case that American political independents don’t deserve their good press. In particular, she cites findings from the political science literature that independents tend to be less interested in politics, less informed about the issues, and less likely to participate in the process than are their partisan fellow citizens. And by virtue of their “none of the above” political identity, they are “weightless” and “atomized,” free-riding off the agenda-setting and coalition-building efforts of partisans that give political life its substance.

Partisans are biased–even about factual issues

As Rosenblum argues, citizens have good moral and political reasons to affiliate with parties: one voter does not count for much, but as part of a larger group we can make our voices heard. Unfortunately, as Lindsey points out, partisans differ on matters of fact as well as opinions and values. Here are a couple more examples:

– Views on the economy. A survey was conducted in 1988, at the end of Ronald Reagan’s second term, asking various questions about the government and economic conditions, including, “Would you say that compared to 1980, inflation has gotten better, stayed about the same, or gotten worse?” Amazingly, over half of the self-identified strong Democrats in the survey said that inflation had gotten worse and only 8% thought it had gotten much better, even though the actual inflation rate dropped from 13% to 4% during Reagan’s eight years in office. Political scientist Larry Bartels studied this and other examples of bias in retrospective evaluations.

– Climate change and college education. Reporter Brandon Keim found this interesting nugget from a Pew survey:

Over the last year and a half, the number of Americans who believe the Earth is warming has dropped. The decline is especially precipitous among Republicans: in January 2007, 62 percent accepted global warming, compared to just 49 percent now. . . . The confounding part: among college-educated poll respondents, 19 percent of Republicans believe that human activities are causing global warming, compared to 75 percent of Democrats. But take that college education away and Republican believers rise to 31 percent while Democrats drop to 52 percent.

At first this seems weird: you might think that college grads are more likely to go with the scientific consensus on global warming, or you might think that college grads would be more skeptical, but it seems funny that it would go one way for Democrats and the other for Republicans.

But looked at another way, it makes perfect sense. Among college grads, there is a big partisan divide between Democrats and Republicans. Among non-graduates, the differences are smaller. This is completely consistent with research that shows that people with more education are on average more politically polarized. Basically, higher educated Democrats are more partisan Democrats, and higher educated Republicans are more partisan Republicans. On average, educated people are more tuned in to politics and more likely to align their views with their political attitudes. From this perspective, it’s really not about the scientific community at all, it’s just a special case of the general phenomenon of elites being more politically polarized.

(The discussion of this point on my blog is fascinating: most of the commenters consider the differences between less-educated and more-educated people to be effects of a college education, whereas I–along with most other political scientists, I would guess–think of education more as a demographic variable, with the distinction between educated and less educated voters being a comparison of different sorts of people rather than an effect of education.)

Attitudes on different issues are less predictable than you might think

On the other hand, things aren’t quite as bad as Lindsey implies. For example, he writes, “There’s no epistemologically sound reason why one’s opinion about, say, the effects of gun control should predict one’s opinion about whether humans have contributed to climate change or how well Mexican immigrants are assimilating — these things have absolutely nothing to do with each other. Yet the fact is that views on these and a host of other matters are indeed highly correlated with each other.”

Is that true? The short answer is that I don’t know. But the fuller answer is that I suspect the correlations on these views are pretty low. I say this because one thing I do know is that the correlations between attitudes on different issues are surprisingly low.

Sociologist Delia Baldassarri and I looked at this a couple of years ago in an analysis of decades of survey responses from the National Election Study. Correlations between pairs of issues are pretty low, typically around 0.2. These correlations have increased in the past few decades, but slowly–only about 0.02 per decade.

Although Americans have become increasingly polarized in their impressions of the Democratic and Republican parties, each person maintains a mix of attitudes within himself or herself. For instance, 40% of Americans in a 2004 survey were self-declared Republicans, but only 23% identified themselves as both Republican and conservative. Almost half of Republicans do not describe themselves as being ideologically conservative. If we also consider issue preferences, the constraint of people’s political preferences looks even weaker. Only 6% of respondents are Republicans who think of themselves as conservatives, oppose abortion, and have conservative views on affirmative action and health policy. Fully 85% of self-declared Republicans are nonconservative or take a nonconservative stand on at least one of these three traditional issues.

A similar picture emerges if we look at Democrats. In this case, of the 49% self-declared Democrats in the sample, only 36% call themselves liberals. Overall, almost 90% of Democrats are nonliberal or have nonliberal views on abortion, affirmative action, or health policy. These numbers should not be surprising, given that in general, the correlation between party identification or ideology and opinion on political issues is low. Knowing somebody’s political identification increases our chances of guessing his or her issue preferences, but not by much. This supports the notion of journalists such as David Brooks that red and blue America are cultural constructs more than bundles of issue positions.

The preceding analyses consider five positions (party, ideology, and three issues): if each were determined by a simple coin flip, there would be about 3% of the population (more precisely, 1 in 32), in each of the pure categories; instead, we see about 6% for each: more than would be expected by pure randomness, but far less than if attitudes on the different positions were perfectly correlated.

The picture does not change if we look at correlations among issue preferences alone. For example, consider opinions on health insurance and abortion. Overall, 46% of respondents favored government support for health insurance. Among the people who supported abortion, 51% supported government health insurance. Similarly, 55% of respondents support abortion. Among those supporting health insurance, 62% were also in favor of abortion.

The following graph, based on the research of political scientists Joseph Bafumi and Michael Herron, summarizes voters’ ideological positions on a number of issues:

herron1.png

House members and senators’ positions are estimated based on their votes in Congress. Voters’ positions are estimated based on some survey questions where people were asked their views on a number of issues that had also been voted on in Congress. As you can see, elected representatives are generally more extreme than voters.

Congressmembers are more ideological–more partisanly-consistent in their views–than most voters. When you see this graph, it should be no surprise–after all, congressmembers are professional Democrats and Republicans in a way that few voters are. On the other hand, we also know that to be elected to Congress you need to get a plurality of votes in your district, and there’s evidence that moderation is helpful in this respect.

Given all this evidence of voters’ lack of issue coherence, how is it that Lindsey assumes that views on gun control, climate change, and immigration are so highly correlated? This comes back to another thing that Baldassarri found, which is that attitudes on issues are more highly correlated among politically active Americans–the kind of people, I assume, whom Lindsey, Rosenblum, and I are more likely to meet and talk with about politics.

As the times change, so do our prescriptions

It helps to put concerns about partisanship in recent historical context. In this case I’ll take a slightly shorter view than Rosenblum and just look at the past forty years. In the late 1960s and early 1970s, political scientists and journalists such as David Broder started writing books with titles such as The Party’s Over, worrying about the diminished importance of political organizations in American life, and expressing concern with a more shallow mass-media presentation of politics in books such as Joe McGinness’s The Selling of the President, written about Richard Nixon’s 1968 presidential campaign.

Why were the increased importance of the media and decreased importance of political parties viewed as such a bad thing? For one thing, political scientists and journalists were more likely to be Democrats than Republicans–as was true of the country as a whole at that time. But Americans continued to vote Republican in presidential elections. Theories of divided government and balancing aside, this would be disturbing to someone who saw the Democrats as the natural majority party, hence the concern about the decline of party influence.

Fast forward to the late 1990s and beyond. Political scientists and journalists are now bemoaning the increase in political polarization. Why was partisanship considered such a bad thing? Again, political scientists and journalists are more likely to be Democrats. They noticed that many Americans agree with the Democrats more than Republicans on specific issues but nonetheless were voting for Republicans. What was going on? Partisanship was a possible culprit: with more Americans identifying with the conservative than the liberal label, perhaps they were voting Republican out of an ideological consistency that is not actually in accordance with their issue positions.

As former House Majority Leader Tom DeLay put it in 2006, “The common lament over the recent rise in political partisanship is often nothing more than a veiled complaint instead about the recent rise of political conservatism.” Now that the Democrats are in power, perhaps it is their turn to champion party loyalty.

Arguments for or against partisanship have to be evaluated on their own terms, and Rosenblum’s argument in particular is part of a longer tradition among political science to show respect for and understanding of the participants at all levels of the political process. I will say, though, that a call for a return to partisanship may find a more receptive audience among liberal opinion leaders now than in, say, 2001 or 2005. The current period of unified Democratic control of the federal government has put a new spin on debates about polarization and partisanship.

Summary

Rosenblum does us all a useful service by placing partisanship and, especially, criticisms of partisanship, in historical perspective. And, while I respect Lindsey’s concerns about the systematic errors that partisans make–djvergences that in some cases are even larger among more educated voters, which, as Lindsey says, undermine both clear thinking and moral integrity–I think that some of these worries may be overstated. For better or worse, most voters remain near the political center. We may have more to fear from the partisanship of politicians than from the partisanship of voters.

I definitely agree with Rosenblum that political scientists (and political journalists, too) should take partisanship seriously: whether or not bipartisan agreement is desirable, partisanship among politicians and voters is certainly the norm and is worthy of study. And I definitely agree with Linsdey that partisanship is more ideological than it used to be, but that these ideologies are imperfect fits for the majority of voters. This is one reason why voters can show strong preferences for one party over the other while still expressing a desire for bipartisan governance.

5 thoughts on “Partisanship: good or bad?

  1. Interesting experiments with lack of partisanship are the big coalitions of "natural enemies" that occured in some European countries recently. For example, the coalitions combining social democrats with fiscal conservatives (The Netherlands 1994-2002, and Belgium 1999-2007) or social democrats and christian democrats (current Germany). My impression is that these are not stable solutions in the sense that at, least in the Netherlands, the big coalition will not be a viable option for quite some time to come, while other coalitions may break down, but after the election they are still a viable option.

  2. The climate change result is depressing. Choosing your scientific beliefs on the basis of your political beliefs…that's just wrong.

  3. While I agree with Phil that it would be a better world if people could independently evaluate the quality of scientific arguments, that seems pretty naively optimistic. In what sense do you "know" that climate change is real? Unless you are a climate scientist, you only know because you trust scientists (or peer-review or something else about the social structure in which they operate). Well, apparently most Republicans trust someone else more (I am sure we could come up with names). This is a pity, but it is not clear those of us who have the "correct" perspective on climate change are doing anything fundamentally different in terms of how we form our views, we just trust different people.

    As a more realistic goal, we might hope that on scientific matters, most people would trust scientists more than overtly political actors. Most Americans probably do this, which is why intelligent design people work hard to come up with "experts" who look like scientists, why energy companies have done the same for climate change issues, why tobacco companies used to do this, etc., etc. I am sure that I have deluded views on some things too, in large part because of similar efforts by interested information sources that I am more inclined to trust. But I can't list them, because I just view them as people telling me things that are true!

    This is why it is important for scientists to not pretend they have some special authority to talk about anything other than their actual field of study. I know this is a pet peeve of Andrew's. In addition to being annoying, it is probably bad for the general credibility of scientists. Of course it is fun and cheap to spend credibility accumulated by other scientists, so keeping each other from running our mouths is a collective action problem for scholars.

  4. "This is why it is important for scientists to not pretend they have some special authority to talk about anything other than their actual field of study."

    I suspect that 2-3% of every profession are mercenaries without ethics, and another 10% or so are so incompetent as to be a coin flip away from acting like mercenaries without ethics, although they don't realize it. Consequently, I believe this problem will be with us until the days of 99.99% accurate psychological testing, where those people who will happily deceive the public for pay can be assigned jobs digging drainage ditches in Alabama in the summertime – which doesn't address the incompetence issue, I know, but no doubt something will come up.

    I also don't believe that most people, especially the people on the wrong side of the facts, actually pay any attention to the scientists (some personal experience with a usually intelligent friend here.) They pay attention to the received wisdom of the people they hang out with combined with what they want to be true. They then filter the facts to support their desires + received wisdom. (Kahneman and Tversky did a lot of work on this.)

    Short of outright censorship of incorrect beliefs, a la the Church 500 years ago or so, the only way out I can see is better training and indoctrination of the youth in the public and private schools – in how to think critically, how to decide between competing views, and what is right, scientifically speaking. One hopes this will reduce the problem to one which doesn't interfere much with our ability to get needed stuff done.

    Well, I can dream, can't I?

  5. “As you can see,” Andrew Gelman writes, “elected representatives are generally more extreme than voters”. This perhaps should not come as a surprise because representatives, contrary to electors, have to seat close to each other, and in particular close to their opponents;. They have to discuss face-to-face with their rivals and finally decide against (yet with) them. To paraphrase J.S. Mill, they experience directly the heat of partisanship. This is not the case with electors, who feel perhaps the animosity of political partisanship during the electoral campaign, but since they do not have to vote on issues, their antagonism remains at the lever of general views or visions. But voting on issues directly (something that in representative democracy only the elected do) entails entering a dialectics of pro and con much that involves emotionally on a deeper level because in this case political antagonism materializes, so to speak; it takes the feature of this or that specific topic. Antagonism takes a concrete feature here. This explains why those who have to deal with “real stuff” (law proposals) may tend to become more radical or extreme in their position and opposition. Ancient Athens can be used as evidence, where assemblies of sovereign citizens registered so strong an animosity that provisos and procedures had to be created in order not to transform legislation in a work of personal vendetta or retaliation of citizens against each other. Vicinity of the decision-makers or of friends to enemies, and vicinity of them to the issues to be decided on it is perhaps what may explain Gelman’s finding.

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