Coming off the Iowa caucuses, the New Hampshire primary, and the Nevada caucus results,
I think we're seeing the limits of momentum in these early contests:
Clinton's average polling in Nevada over the last year has been 45%. Obama's has been 21%. Which means in this vote, Obama's momentum took the spread of 24 points down to 5. Similarly, in New Hampshire Clinton's year-long average was 33% to Obama's 26%. In that race, Obama cut the spread from 7 to 2.5.
Obama's momentum off of his Iowa win can clearly tighten races and close the spread, but it seems this momentum can only carry him so far.
The New York Times seems to agree:
No longer do Democrats see much chance of either candidate stringing together a few quick victories and consolidating the support of the party. The possibility of building steam that carries from one contest to the next seems much in question.
It's becoming clear that the primary fight is turning into a two-way battle for delegates. The opening salvo of
contradictory victory press releases from the Obama and Clinton camps is only the beginning.
What does it mean if the narrative shifts away from winners and losers and towards delegate counts?
For one, it makes momentum a lot less important. With both campaigns digging in for the long haul and the media switching its focus to delegate counts, wins in South Carolina and Florida will mean less. Super Tuesday may easily even out the counts, keeping the primary alive well into the spring.
On one hand, this means more people get to participate in the process. When early primary momentum carries a candidate to a quick victory, Democrats around the nation rightly complain that a tiny minority of the American population chooses a candidate for the rest. (See John Kerry, 2004) If the primary is about delegates and not about momentum, and if the season lasts for another month of two, a majority of America will get to weigh in.
This is an unambiguously good outcome for the Democratic party as a brand. The longer primary process means we Democrats get to have a longer, more thorough national conversation about our core ideology. By the end of it, I think we'll have a more unified message that can appeal to the country as a whole in a more compelling way. Just as primary challengers can shake conservative Democrats from their slumber and drive the conversation to the left (
see Dan Lipinski), a long primary fight for the White House is shifting conversation to the left as well. When our candidates battle over who will remove troops from Iraq faster or whose health care plan covers more people, the Democratic party as a whole wins.
Plus, a longer primary is simply more democratic.
On the other hand, it may be spring or summer before we have a nominee. I'm not sure whether this is good or bad strategically for Democrats. A longer primary season takes more money out of campaign coffers, possibly leaving less ammunition to go after Republicans with. The counter-argument,
proffered here by Chris Bowers a little over a year ago, says that a drawn out primary season keeps Democrats rolling in free media, whereas an early conclusion leaves Republicans alone in the spotlight for months until the general election campaign starts.
I, for one, am glad for the long primary season. Beyond the reasons mentioned above, I've got my New York absentee ballot sitting on my desk, and the
Times says
New York might be "in play," meaning my vote might actually count! I feel relieved that Iowa and New Hampshire didn't decide for me this time around.
I say, let the primaries roll!
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