Playing With the Rules

WHEN THE DEMOCRATS go to the polls next month to begin selecting their party's nominee for President, they'll be participating in a process unlike any they have seen before.

Electoral reforms from 1970 to 1980 were a valiant attempt to make the system more representative than in the old days, when party acolytes deliberated in smoke-filled rooms--but the last two elections demonstrated that the system was still in need of ample tightening. This year, the party has completely revamped its delegate selection process. And the new system, which will be tested in the coming months, seems finally to be moving in the right direction.

Spurred by the chaos and perceived inequality of the 1968 Democratic Convention, electoral reforms in the next 10 years significantly broadened representation among delegates, virtually eliminated elected officials from service as delegates, and vastly increased the number of primaries and the length of the selection process. Though well intended, however, the proliferation of primaries, from 17 in 1968 to 36 in 1980, seemed to backfire badly, turning the nominating process into a veritable steeplechase that discouraged those with hefty official responsibilities from running and led to gross inconsistencies in state voting rules.

In some states candidates were represented directly on the ballot, while elsewhere only delegates were listed; in some, primary voting was open to all state citizens, in others only to those with declared party affiliation. Moreover, the arbitrary order of primary dates and the duration of the process gave disproportionate influence to small states with early contests, while large and populous states like California often found the race over by the time their turn came.

But perhaps the most worrisome consequence of the reforms was their impact on voter turnout: As the primary system grew longer and longer, popular participation steadily declined. Some analysts, including former President Jimmy Carter, have argued that the drop in turnout is due mostly to more complex registration requirements--but registration has been made progressively easier in the last decade and voting hours have been extended. Nor can the "new apathy" be adequately attributed to a lack of clear issue choices and difference between party candidates; 1980, the Presidential election with the lowest percentage turnout to date, was a case study in contrast between candidates with unambiguous policy stands.

More likely, the dulling of voter interest and participation resulted directly from the endless stream of contests from January to June. Unlike the national election in Britain, which lasts only three weeks and generates profound voter excitement, the current American system lulls potential voters to sleep. If the World Series were to drag on for six months, interest in the outcome would probably wane, too.

Faced with the obvious failure of the system in 1980, the Democratic Party in 1982 completely revamped their nominating process. The Hunt Commission, chaired by Governor James B. Hunt of North Carolina, shortened the primary season to three months and restored the automatic right of knowledgeable state, party, and elected officials to be convention delegates in 1984. Such a system promises to be less wearing to candidates and the public alike.

THESE PROVISIONS have drawn overwhelming support from Democrats, but another Hunt innovation has come under increasing attack--the "winner-take-all" system of apportioning delegates, which gives all delegates in an electoral district to the top votegetter rather than awarding them proportionately to several candidates. The Rev. Jesse Jackson lambasts the rule as discriminating against minority voters--but what he fails to acknowledge is that studies show the winner-take-all provisions will also help his candidacy by awarding him all delegates in the nation's many districts which are predominantly minority. In fact, the Hunt Commission, which included several prominent Black leaders, was the first of its kind to ensure adequate minority representation at the national convention. It enacted a new provision requiring the body, previously dominated by white males, to reflect proportionally the percentage of minorities in the nation's population.

What the rule does do is make it harder for trailing candidates to keep their campaigns alive. It favors frontrunners, "stacking the cards very much towards the established center and away from a wild-card candidate," as Jackson complains. The party adopted this conservative stance for a reason--their highest priority, as the race heats up, is to select a candidate who has enough broad political support to challenge the Republican incumbent with some hope of success. The Hunt Commission rules, in the end, may make the Democratic Convention less open to the views of party extremes--but they will also produce a candidate and an organization with the best chance of ousting Ronald Reagan from the Rose Garden. And that, in the year 1984, is a goal that most Democrats should be able to agree on.