Abstract
When writing about the method of selecting the President of the United States, Alexander Hamilton chose his words carefully so as to not set expectations too high. In Federalist #68 he wrote, “I venture somewhat further, and hesitate not to affirm, that if the manner of it be not perfect, it is at least excellent. It unites in an eminent degree all the advantages, the union of which was to be wished for.” Of course, Hamilton was talking specifically about the electoral college, but his argument alludes to the participation of a myriad of contributors, such as those individuals in the states who would help keep an eye out for the right kind of candidates.
The presidential selection process is vastly more complex now, but the sorts of individuals who keep an eye out for the right kind of candidates in the various states are still with us. And it is about those individuals and the ways in which they make their assessments that Seth Masket writes in Learning from Loss.
This is a serious book written in a lively and accessible prose. Masket takes on the complex task of identifying those individuals who have been given or have taken upon themselves the responsibility to help cull through the presidential candidates to choose a nominee. Such a responsibility seems difficult in the best of times, but when that choice occurs in the context of an existential crisis for democracy, then it becomes frightful. He carefully connects the narratives the party activists used to explain the outcome of the 2016 presidential election to the choices they thought needed to be made in the 2020 Democratic primary.
The book begins with the argument about the importance of narratives. The stories we tell ourselves about what happened in a particular event serve as a guide to help us make sense of the next event. The narrative tells us what we should be looking for and what we will most likely need to do to either replicate or avoid the same results. For this reason, the political narrative used to explain the 2016 results takes on added significance in 2020. Democratic party activists seemed intent on making the decision that would maximize the chances of the Democratic candidate prevailing. They did not just want to win for the sake of winning; they believed the future of American democracy was at stake. They sensed that the winning narrative would influence the decisions they made during the party nomination. Therefore, they believed in the gravity of the story they told themselves.
However, party activists do not all gather in a room and decide on what the “correct” narrative is. Furthermore, narratives often emerge that will have more to do with the interests of particular activists than they do with the objective interests of the party. A fundamental feature of scholarship on parties is that these are organizations that want to win elections. But if they can win elections and represent particular groups or provide a specific set of benefits, then so much the better. But what happens when the goal of pursuing a particular interest conflicts with the goal of winning? Or what occurs when one group of activists settles on an election narrative that offends another set of activists? The activists must engage in the gut-wrenching exercise of coming to some consensus on a narrative in order to make decisions about the type of candidate to nominate and where to allocate precious resources.
Masket deftly leverages in-person interviews and survey research data to explore the narratives of party activists. Settling on a narrative is no easy task for activists. Masket identifies eight specific narratives that emerged to explain why Clinton lost in 2016. Furthermore, the survey research data span the cycle of the nominating process, thereby providing a “flip book” view of what the activists think. The sample sizes are small, and some effects may result from panel attrition. However, the survey data help to assess the actions of various factions within the party and the extent to which the narrative adopted by the faction remains stable over time. One of the fascinating results in this book is the examination of narrative by sub-groups. Masket finds that "(men) are substantially more likely to suggest that campaign messaging or candidates’ traits were the problem than women were. However, women were far more likely to attribute Clinton’s loss to outside events and persistent sexism and racism” (p. 86).
Masket bolsters the argument about narratives mattering by including discussions of campaign finance data, endorsements, and debate rules. The book also contains a series of nifty survey experiments to test the impact of different narratives on voters. The results of these experiments indicate that the narrative also matters for voters and not just the activists. Voters too prize electability in a candidate and will often exchange group goals in order to increase the probability of winning. Along the way, Masket makes helpful comparisons to the 2016 Republican primary. He asks how the Democrats in 2020 avoided the chaos and indecision that seemed to afflict the Republicans in 2016.
What is particularly noteworthy about this book is the way in which Masket situates the narrative dynamic in the work of political science and the broad outlines of what political scientists know about election dynamics. It is also well grounded in the literature of American party development. The grounding in the literature on campaigns and political parties gives Masket both a confidence and a humility. He never claims too much for his findings, but his findings are neatly arrayed alongside those from other political scientists. Finally, the book provides a rich departure point for researchers on campaigns and elections. A careful read by an able political scientist will yield numerous ideas for further research. And in the end, a book that stimulates other ideas is the best kind of book to read.