The Problem With Election Maps
The unintended consequences of the gamification — and simplification — of U.S. Presidential Election maps.
Take a look at the above map. If you’ve flipped on the television during an election night in America over the past two decades, you’ve seen something like it.
The map’s premise is simple enough: states that are won by the Republican candidate are colored red, and states won by the Democratic candidate, blue. To me, election nights tend to feel more like a Monday Night Football game than the presentation of the results of our democracy in action — and that is no accident. CNN chief executive Jeff Zucker has said he wants election coverage to feel like ESPN. So, election nights come with the peripherals of any big game: slick graphics, an excess of statistics, and game-day-style strategy talk.
And in constant focus: this color-coded scoreboard of a United States map. Republican, red. Democrat, blue.
I hate this map.
So, let me tell you why. As an example, the map above is from the 2016 Presidential Election. This map shows you a red Michigan, even though Hillary Clinton (Democrat) received 47% of the vote in that state in 2016. It shows you a blue New Hampshire, even though Donald Trump (Republican) received 46% of the vote in that state.
This isn’t just about swing states or close calls, either. This map shows you a red Texas, even though nearly four million people in that state voted for Hillary Clinton. It shows you a blue California, even though nearly five million people in that state voted for Donald Trump.
Here’s my contention: in an effort to turn our election coverage into sport — and in an effort to simplify the results for viewers — I think we’re subtly reinforcing our country’s division. We’re fueling an idea of red states and blue states, as if crossing a state’s border is akin to scaling an ideological wall.
Come on, you argue. It’s just a map.
OK. Allow me to try to convince you otherwise.
In 1974, a pair of psychologists set out to determine if visual imagery or the wording of questions could influence someone’s memory of an event. They showed participants videos of car accidents and then asked them each a series of questions. Except, they made one small change: they altered the verb in their questions. So, some people were asked: “how fast were the cars going when they smashed into each other?” And others were asked: “how fast were the cars going when they contacted each other?”
The results? Participants who were asked the question that contained the verb smashed reported that the cars were, on average, traveling at about 41 mph. But the participants that were asked the question with the verb contacted? On average, they said the cars were traveling at about 32 mph.
That’s a big difference. The finding suggests that our memories — and thus, our perception — are malleable based on how information is presented to us.
Time for some self-reflection. If I had told you that nearly four million people voted in the 2016 U.S. Presidential Election from the state of Georgia, would you have guessed that Hillary Clinton received nearly two million of those votes? If I had told you that about 6.5 million people voted from New York, would you have guessed that nearly three million of them voted for Donald Trump? My guess is that your estimate would have been pretty far off, because we see Georgia as a red state, and New York as a blue one.
Have you ever assumed someone leaned towards a certain political direction based on where they grew up, or where they live now? Further — and on a larger scale — would voter turnout increase in some states if the perception wasn’t that they were universally red or blue? Some pundits have hypothesized this perception does, indeed, make a difference.
Now, take a look at this map.
The above map is from The New York Times, and instead of one solid color per state, it displays scaled red or blue circles that are proportional to the size of the lead each candidate held by the county.
Ready for another? Try this one.
The map above was created by a researcher at the University of Michigan. It both contorts the map to account for county population/representation, and shades the red/blue colors to indicate the size of the candidate’s margin of victory (hence, notice all of the purple).
Now, you may not like either of the two maps I just showed you. You may think that they’re confusing, or far too nuanced to plaster on television during the results show for a national audience. And you may be right.
But consider how different the stories are that these three maps are telling you. And ask yourself, regardless of political party interest: does your perspective of how Americans voted in the 2016 election change based on the map you’re shown?
I’m advocating for the “standard” election map to get an overhaul prior to November 3, 2020. With the brilliant graphic designers and visual effects artists at the disposal of the big media networks, it wouldn’t be hard to do. Electoral College votes could still be displayed numerically on the bottom of the screen (like a score bug), but the map itself should not mislead for the sake of simplification. It should not inadvertently fuel division. It should aim for representation, not gamification.
Former President Barack Obama’s 2008 victory speech contained a line many believe to be his most memorable: that we are not “just a collection of red states and blue states. We are, and always will be, the United States of America.”
It was a great line, and it’s actually quite telling: it resonated with people because we’re primed to view America through these color-coded lenses. It’s empirical proof that how something is framed can influence our perspective.
And, sure, fixing the maps won’t cure our divisions overnight.
But it’s a start.
