he early results are trickling in on the nation's first
ballot recount of the 2004 presidential election, which commenced
November 18 in New Hampshire. John Kerry, for one, probably won't
sit bolt upright at the news that three extra votes were found for
him thus far in a state he won anyway. But if nothing else, the
process confirms that in an age of technological overkill,
old-fashioned paper ballots are still the best guarantee of the
integrity of the democratic process.
The focus in New Hampshire is on precincts where results went
strikingly against current statewide trends and past localized ones:
a kind of under-the-hood check of the controversial private-sector
machinery that increasingly drives the ballot-counting process and
has drawn the skeptical scrutiny of activists throughout the
country.
Final results won't be known until
those stolid-paced Granite State folks complete their task sometime
after Thanksgiving.
But so far, in the two precincts, or "wards," where official
recounts were posted, the vote totals hardly changed at all. In the
town of Litchfield, both Bush and Kerry gained three votes--precious
little out of more than 5,000 ballots cast. In Manchester's Ward 7,
with a similar number of voters, Bush's total remained the same,
while Kerry picked up three.
Clearly, New Hampshire plays no role in the crucial Electoral
College math in which we're all interested. Hence, verifying the
integrity of the mechanism is the entire game here. The recount came
about at the behest of Ida Briggs, a Michigan computer programmer
and database designer whose number-crunching led her to doubt the
trustworthiness of new voting and counting technologies. She zeroed
in on bite-sized New Hampshire, and principally on certain
Democratic-inclined precincts that trended more conservative while a
conservative state trended more liberal. The suspect precincts, she
noted, overwhelmingly relied on ballot-reading technology from
Diebold Inc.--the GOP-friendly Ohio company and ten-ton gorilla of
the elections business. Her analysis convinced the Nader campaign to
call for a recount, a purely civic-minded venture since the quixotic
Nader, of course, would not benefit.
If the results from the two completed precincts are mirrored in
the remaining targeted ones (another nine out of 126 total
statewide), it may reassure the most skeptical among us that
Diebold's much-criticized optical-scanning machines (35 percent of
votes nationally are now opscan-counted) do a surprisingly good job
of reading hand-marked ballots.
But even if Diebold receives a passing mark, the Concord recount,
perhaps the first of several in statehouses nationwide
(all-important election-decider Ohio may be reviewed in December),
could by no means be considered a waste of time and resources.
Irrespective of the outcome, the exercise itself teaches us
important things about the benefits of openness in the pursuit of
functioning democracy. It reveals a lot about what's good about our
voting system--and offers hints of what needs to be fixed, which is
plenty.