Peter Sinclair: Turning votes into hard cash

User-pays has reached full flower.

In a logical conclusion to the economic and philosophical trends of the past 20 years, Americans can now sell their votes to the highest bidder at Voteauction; thus, in the stirring words of its slogan, "Bringing Capitalism and Democracy Closer Together."

"Whether you are a first-time voter, or you've been voting since World War II, you know that your vote is so valuable that the candidates, their parties and the corporations that support them are spending millions of dollars this year in an attempt to influence your decision. Unfortunately this money is spent on advertising campaigns, pollsters and high-priced consultants. Voteauction.com is cutting out the middleman and bringing the big money ... directly to you."

This makes sense, and already more than 8000 Americans have signed up to auction their votes to the highest bidder for a total of more than $US90,000, ($214,600) despite its being illegal in every state of the union.

The site is the brainchild of James Baumgartner, a student at New York's Rensselaer Polytechnic (motto: "Why not change the world?").

While writing his thesis, it dawned on him that the candidate who raises the most money almost invariably wins, by treating the voter as a commodity in the same way the television industry regards its viewers.

He concluded that if it is all right to buy an election, then by extension it is all right to buy individual votes. I'm just surprised it took so long for someone to twig on to the idea.

The old system of freebie voting is plainly unsatisfactory. It allows politicians to renege on their promises. But a commoditised vote could be given the force of a contract, allowing voters to seek legal redress if, for example, super failed to go up.

It would be more efficient for politicians too, enabling them to target limited resources rather than spraying money in every direction. More importantly, a financial incentive would encourage the significant proportion of voters who stay home on polling-day to participate in the democratic process.

Think of the difference this system might have made in Tauranga, Coromandel or Wellington Central. Voteauction simplifies the process enormously.

At its website you register to sell your vote; bid on voting-blocks; and check current prices, which mostly fall in the $US10-$20 range.

Of course, all farsighted reforms will inevitably be challenged by naysayers. Whingers over at the Voting Integrity Project raised such a righteous hue and cry that Baumgartner was forced to close his site.

But the canny young pragmatist sold it to a right-wing Austrian investor, Hans Bernhard, and it is now thriving on Bulgarian servers.

For let's not fool ourselves. Money has always played a big part in politics.

In England, the 18th century's 'rotten boroughs' - parliamentary constituencies drastically shrunken but still with the right to elect members (Old Sarum) - were openly for sale at about 2 guineas per vote. And in 1757, the very father of democracy, George Washington himself, secured a seat in the Virginia House of Burgesses by shouting a quart and a half of liquor to all 391 voters in his district.

So I rang Judith Tizard and Sandra Lee, who both represent my electorate of Auckland Central, to establish a going rate.

Judith responded instantly in a most statesmanlike manner. Although she didn't actually spell it out, don't be surprised if your columnist receives an honorific after the next election, and he will wear his Order of the Grumpy Tuatara with pride.

Sandra, however, had not replied at the time of going to press. Well I'm sorry, but she will have to do better than that. As soon as I can remember who the candidate was, I'm going to call Act.


BOOKMARKS


MOST UNSTRESSING: Whack-A-Flack

Weary of PR flacks emailing him breathlessly about the virtues of the next Doomed.com startup, your columnist seized the opportunity to give them a taste of their own media-kit.

Choosing Hill & Knowlton (nothing personal, guys) from a drop-down list of agencies, he set about relieving his pent-up feelings at Whack-a-Flack, the latest cubicle craze.

With reflexes honed by resentment and an arsenal of boring, semi-literate press releases folded into paper darts, the object of this Shockwave shoot-'em-up is to wing account execs as they break cover, for no flack can stay out of sight for long.

Advisory: look out for the Big Cheese - zapping him will cost you your career.

Links:


VoteAuction

Rensselaer Polytechnic

Voting Integrity Project

Rotten Boroughs

Old Sarum

Judith Tizard

Sandra Lee

Whackaflack

E-mail Peter Sinclair