Tomorrow the electors of the Electoral College will elect Donald Trump president of the United States officially, and anyone who doubts this has far more faith than I do in Republican Party stalwarts to behave as citizens rather than partisans. Trump now has broad and deep support in the party, even though many of the electors may have been chosen without regard to their initial willingness to back Trump. The Electoral College is a terrible institution, as any democrat should recognize. And it is about to enact a terrible result, as any decent person should recognize. The question now is: should it? Various plans have been earnestly promoted for electors to defect from their state results and elect someone else â some other, normal, Republican â as president. I have two thoughts on the defection plan. First, it is almost certain to result in a net gain for Trump, as Hillary electors are the vast majority of those involved, and, not to give ourselves too much credit, Democrats are somewhat more likely to be responsible than Republicans, and much more likely to find Trumpism unacceptable. This net gain could be a few, or it could be more than a few. But I still resent even the one faithless elector in 2000. (If you want a replay of the self-important, deceptive showboating at play in that act, listen to the same sentiment from the committed faithless Democratic elector in Washington this year.) My concern has a historiographic element. When the history is written, I donât want historians to have any reason to misinterpret what happened. âElectors abandoned the Democratic nominee to vote for a Republicanâ is likely to be read at face value, perhaps coupled with a readout of polls showing Hillary as extraordinarily unpopular, without the context of Democratic electors offering a deal to Republican electors. I mean no offense to historians; I generally think future historians will read this election better than current historians â journalists â are reading it now. But I want history to show that, even in 2016, Trump voters were a bitter, dying minority who got insanely lucky. Thatâs a poor second to my original hope, a Hillary blowout, a hope motivated by the same desire. I wanted current women and minorities, the rest of the world, and all future citizens to look on Novemberâs election as a decisive rejection of Trumpism, as they had a right to expect from us. We didnât give them that, but I still want the picture to be as clear as possible. And if only or mostly Democrats defect, they wonât have been played; theyâll have played themselves. That will only lower the image of Democrats in general, as fools. Second, Iâm ambivalent about the defection plan morally, though I end up opposed on balance. As an adolescent I was the normal believer in democracy. In my twenties I developed what I called standardism, which was essentially a variant of constitutional liberalism â our society should be governed on fundamental matters by fixed, permanent, simple, and public standards, with policy debates only existing in the framework allowed by those standards. Iâll admit to a general disillusionment with democracy, which began with the election in 1988; I was convinced before the election that people had seen through Reaganism and then learned that they hadnât. I didnât understand policy as well then as I do now, but even in retrospect I believe I knew policy better in 1988 than that yearâs electorate. Ordinary people arenât well informed; they make bad political decisions. Even in my worst moments of despair over this fact, I never wanted to end elections, but it did crystallize my belief that certain things should never be up for a vote. I have always believed that there is such a thing as justice, that there are moral rights that exist, beyond any legal rights that are actually protected by government. This is a normal belief, nearly though not quite universal; only the content of justice and moral rights is in dispute. And the more I have studied people, the more I have been convinced that most of them donât have a conception of justice or moral rights anything like as rational or as considered my own. I have not changed my view that moral rights exist or that Iâm better able to identify them than the average person. But after a further fifteen to twenty years of comparative study of democracies and non-democracies, I have come to believe that the process, and the masses themselves, are an essential safeguard against tyranny. Democratic majorities can impose tyranny, but tyranny is more likely to come from a small group than a large group. The best defense against tyranny, often the only defense, is a majority that strongly opposes it. If we want justice in the long term, what we need to do is change minds, so that ordinary people share our view of justice. Expecting a minority to give us justice in defiance of the majority is at best a short-term strategy, perhaps even shortsighted. Of course, this is exactly what brought us our own constitutional liberalism. There is no majority in the United States today, let alone two centuries ago, in support of the actual content of the Bill of Rights (as opposed to empty support in the abstract). The Bill of Rights is a minoritarian imposition. Iâm glad the framers imposed those legal rights, but that canât be our strategy going forward. One element of my standardist view is that the standards should be written, codified. If we want different standards from the ones we have codified, we should codify those instead. The written Constitution creates a representative democracy, and the Electoral College was a part of that. Itâs true that we now have statutes in the states that assign the electors to the popular-vote winners. But those laws themselves reflect an evolved political norm, and one that is only halfway to democracy. Honoring the popular vote is very different from winner-take-all by state, a semi-democratic bandage placed over what was already a maldistribution of electoral votes. Protecting this semi-democratic norm in a semi-democratic system is not a clear good in the present circumstance. In the persuasive words of @nycsouthpaw: âAt each step along the way, it wouldâve been less destructive of norms if Trump had been stopped sooner. Thatâll continue to be the case.â Iâve never liked statements of the sort that ârules are rules, and everyone agreed to them ahead of timeâ. Democracy is not something we do for fun, and we donât agree to arbitrary rules just so we can get on with the fun. No one agreed to these rules; we just havenât been able to change them. Democracy should give us Hillary Clinton. And justice should give us Hillary Clinton, both as a matter of process and as a matter of policy. Justice is justice; this is a key standardist belief. What comfort is a process that produces an unjust outcome to those affected by it? Protecting the process is a long-term goal. Weâre asking people to live with the consequences for a generation in order to protect that process. Thatâs a lot to ask. If they voluntarily accepted the consequences for the greater good, then I would honor them. And if I had power in a relevant situation, I would sacrifice a smaller number to save a larger number â provided I had the fortitude to adhere to principle, and provided I had confidence that the outcome would be as I expected. But how much do we know about the future? Eroded norms and the rule of law that might come of Electoral College revolt are a hypothetical danger in the future. Trump is a danger now. Trump is even a danger to norms and to the rule of law. How can we serve the rule of law by allowing Trump to be president? And letâs not forget that five supposed champions of the rule of law acted as partisans to overturn the rule of law and make George W. Bush president under similar circumstances just sixteen years ago. Gore knew heâd (and weâd) been screwed, but he respected the process. I do not think the Bush partisans, on the whole, ever did anything like that. And I see a similar asymmetry this year. Republicans as a party have shown themselves more clearly to be the party of anti-democracy as well as a host of other bad things. We act for the greater good and they act for partisan gain. Obviously thatâs one reason why I take the side I do; but itâs killing us in the short term. Before 2000, I always believed that the Electoral College would be abolished instantly if the results ever split again. I was very wrong about that; it simply became another partisan issue, and the party already less devoted to democracy happened to benefit. But what if both parties had reason to hate the Electoral College? What if using the College for its express original purpose finally convinced Republican partisans that it should be done away with? But that would only happen if the College elected Hillary, not Kasich or some other Republican; and thatâs not on the table. And that fact reinforces how improbable and ill-thought-out this process is. The alternative winner with the best chance, Hillary herself, is not even being considered. She is relatively close to 270 electoral votes, and is the only other person right now who has any votes at all, and of course she has the legitimacy of winning the popular vote. The idea of Democrats defecting only makes sense if the point is to give someone else an outright Electoral College victory on Tuesday. To do so, theyâd need all of Hillaryâs votes and 37 of Trumpâs, all for the same third person. Without those 37 Republican defectors, the whole thing collapses. But with the 37 defectors, the vote goes to the House, and the House can choose that third candidate, even if none of Hillaryâs electors defect. If thereâs no indication that enough Republican electors will defect, thereâs no point to any of Hillaryâs electors defecting. And 270 is an awful lot of defections. Itâs not going to happen. Itâs not clear that it should, in any case. I donât care about the arguments towards strategy, as Trump himself has unconvincingly made, that we should honor the Electoral College result from Election Day because thatâs what the campaigns were basing their strategy on. But the faithless electors mentioned earlier were exercising their personal judgement; one reason that bothers me is that they are in no way supposed to do that. They were not chosen, as individuals, for their judgement. They were chosen to implement the will of their statesâ voters. In the beginning, when electors were chosen as deliberative representatives and intended to use their own judgement, perhaps they were qualified to do so. Today, the electors are mostly partisan hacks. Voters on Election Day were not choosing between slates of qualified, wise electors. They were choosing between presidential candidates. The result from Election Day carries infinitely more moral authority than the personal views of the electors. Here we come to the sad, deciding truth. Whether we like it or not, the popular narrative matters. This year has further clarified how bad the narrative-construction process is. In politics, that probably comes down to the Republicans working the refs so much better, and the refs being so easily worked by the Republicans. My opinion of the press is at an all-time low. I am glad that a small cadre among them has started to take false equivalence and false balance seriously; but theyâre not in charge. Theyâre not making the calls at CNN and the New York Times. Theyâre not hiring, giving assignments, editing, moderating, crafting headlines, creating layouts; and theyâre not doing most of the reporting or writing, either. And since TV profits are up because of Trump coverage, and newspaper subscriptions are up because of Trump fear, those responsible for the Trump catastrophe are facing no immediate danger, unless they belong to one of Trumpâs disfavored groups, and probably not even then. Theyâre not going to be deported. Theyâre not going to lose their health insurance. To listen to so many journalists being defensive and denying their role in the process is sickening. Reporters feeling sorry for themselves as some sort of beleaguered minority? Dear gods. But the damage they have done now feeds into an older, more stable narrative. The state-weighted winner-take-all result from Election Day, in that narrative, is the moral victory, and the Electoral College vote merely ratifies the moral victory as a legal victory. The undemocratic nature of the Electoral College is not deeply felt or even well understood. Voters watch on Election Day as the map is filled with red and blue, someone crosses a threshold, and the networks pronounce a winner. The time to change the system is well before Election Day, so that the media â who have proven that they cannot be trusted to convey even simple truths, let alone complex truths â are given only one possible way to report the story. The popular narrative eventually said that Bush âwonâ in 2000. It already says that Trump âwonâ this year. If someone else becomes president, the narrative will cast that as undemocratic cheating, regardless of how undemocratic a Trump presidency really is. By letting Trump take office, we are making a big gamble â that the damage he can do in four or eight years is less than the damage from a precedent and global example of the subversion of democracy, as the narrative has it. Thatâs the right bet, I think; but only by the slightest of margins. â O.T. Ford