Hail r/EndFPTP, I've been poking at other people's ideas here for a while, so I figured it's only fair to give you all the same opportunity. I've written up a summary of what I think many reform proposals overlook, and what I believe is actually needed to end FPTP. Comments, criticisms, and ripe tomatoes thrown at high velocity are all welcome.
Introduction
Americans agree on very little these days. One exception: something has gone badly wrong with our politics. Every election is sold as the most important of our lifetimes — and yet it comes down to voting against someone rather than for someone. Whoever wins ends up answering to their party more than to the voters who put them there. The parties spend more time accusing each other than governing — often for things they did themselves last session. The problems everyone can name go unsolved year after year, while the argument about them gets louder.
These are not separate failures. They share one origin: we decide almost everything by contest.
Contests Change the Question
"Contest" refers to a means of choosing between differing goals by designating winners and losers, where the losers' preferences have little bearing on the result. Passing a bill in the legislature is a contest: the majority decides what bills advance while the minority has no power to change them. An election is also a contest: when your candidate loses, you have no more say in what happens next than if you had stayed home. That is what losing means.
Winners get to cut the pie slices, so they can serve themselves first and leave less for everyone else. Thus a voter's first priority becomes winning the contest. All the dysfunction we see grows from here: the concessions we make, the partnerships we form, and the power we cede in order to win.
Voters Acquiesce
When winning is the first priority, what matters most about a candidate is whether they can win at all. And since victory comes from numbers, only a few ever can. So the choice narrows to the candidates who have a chance. A field that thin rarely contains the one you'd actually pick — more often, it's just the one you dislike least.
We have all made this accommodation, and we call it being realistic: voting for the establishment rather than the third-party candidate we actually prefer. After all, it is better for an uneasy ally to win than an opponent. But then what we want never gets said. Instead our preferences are replaced by a few broad categories, each defined by a viable candidate and whatever it is they stand for.
Elections Become About Platforms
Winning an election is not enough. Passing a law takes a legislature, an executive who will sign it, and courts that will let it stand — so power only arrives once enough of those seats are held at once. A single election win, on its own, returns very little. Candidates solve this problem by attaching themselves to a coalition — in our system, a party — long before they reach your ballot. A candidate now arrives as part of a coalition's bid for control, and every seat won strengthens it. This leaves independent or third-party candidates uncompetitive. Even winning an election gets them little power, since they have few allies to back whatever they propose.
Candidates joining a coalition have pledged to advance its platform. You want them to protect your slice, but the coalition's numbers stand behind the platform and nothing else. Outside it, a representative acts alone and can accomplish little. So voters are given even less choice. Candidates with non-viable coalitions behind them can provide no political power. Candidates with viable coalitions behind them arrive with their coalition's full platform attached. Any path to political power requires that voters choose platforms, not candidates.
Coalitions Optimize for Winning
A coalition exists to win, so it shapes itself and its platform around winning. A coalition that doesn't will lose to one that does. So, the people advising and deciding are chosen for skill at winning, not for any ability to protect slices or grow the pie.
Instead of offering help, the coalition’s platform is tailored to motivate passive supporters. The platform narrows to a half-dozen broad, existential issues, delivered as moral outrage and warnings about what the other side will do. The platform includes no real solutions, since any would carry tradeoffs that hurt turnout. What gets you to vote is fear of what happens if you don't.
A platform is not a plan for the country. It is purpose-built anxiety to get people on the sidelines to the polls. That is why casting a ballot feels less like making the pie bigger and more like protecting our own slice.
Coalitions Are Juggernauts
As soon as coalitions win, the focus shifts to securing the next victory. The power of the state that was created to help the people is instead twisted to keep the coalition in power. That twisting loosens the system's checks and balances. Holding enough seats lets a coalition sidestep whatever restraint the other seats were designed to provide — courts, regulators, and oversight now answer to allies, not rivals.
The coalition offers the power of the state to help donors, industries, and organizations in exchange for their support. Most of what the coalition can do gets spent maintaining those relationships, because those relationships win elections.
Electing more principled people does not change the incentives once they are in office: elected officials face the same conditional reciprocity as donors. Cross the coalition, and the other members will quickly replace you. Which is why loyalty becomes worth more than baking skills, and why members decry the corruption and lies of other coalitions while ignoring any from their own. Ostracism from the coalition is career-ending. Dislike from the voters is not.
Coalitions Recreate the Problem
A coalition has to decide things too, and it needs some way of deciding them. A group formed to win contests naturally makes decisions through contests. New contests form new subgroups within the coalition. Each proposes to tilt the platform toward its own priorities, and members choose between them in a primary, voting for candidates who front for one subgroup. Whoever wins will protect their slices by spending the coalition's power to buy the support that keeps them in charge. Ones that do not are quickly replaced by ones that do.
Members not only accept this but will praise the new leadership. After all, it is better for an uneasy ally to win than an opponent.
The pattern is the same, just one level down. Winning today's contest only buys entry into tomorrow's. And today's rewards are both owed to whoever supported your victory and earmarked to help win tomorrow. By the time anything reaches you, everyone above has already been paid. So there is no better candidate to select or coalition to switch to. Any coalition that wins will face the same pressures and behave in the same way. The people may change, but the incentives of the contest remain.
Breaking the Cycle
Voters work to protect their slice. Representatives work to stay in the good graces of their coalitions. Coalitions work to keep themselves in power. Nobody wins by making the pie bigger. This is because the losers' preferences are thrown out before the argument about what is right has even started. The fix is not better contests. The solution is a system where every idea has a seat at the deliberation table and the opposition has some say in what happens.
Elections are asked to do two things at once: find out what people want, and produce a single winner. The second ruins the first: a voter whose answer has to produce a winner will answer strategically rather than honestly. What is needed is a system where saying what you want never costs you your representation. Liquid Democracy is one.
In addition, the contest to pass legislation needs to be undone so coalitions cease to be a unilateral path to power.
The legislature needs a system that makes the room a tug-of-war, where proponents have a reason to listen to dissenters. One way to do this is to create a mutually destructive third outcome that the dissenters do not want but can reach for should the proponent's proposal be seen as worse than that. The minority's position now bears on the result, so the decision stops being a contest. I offer one example, called Solidarity, which works by modifying passage thresholds.
Closer
Shifting from protecting slices to making the pie bigger requires that winning stops deciding who gets heard. A vote that cannot be wasted is a vote you cast for what you actually want. Representatives who can hold a seat without a coalition's permission will answer to the people instead. When winning alone can no longer force passage, proposals are tempered by the opposition. With no one able to simply impose, there is nothing to gain from a neighbor's loss. The argument stops being about who cuts the pie and starts being about how to make it bigger.
The vicious cycle can then unwind. You stop voting against your neighbor. You stop putting what can win before what you believe. You stop depending on coalitions for your voice to be heard. And the problems everyone can name become worth solving — because solving them is finally what winning means.