The Best Way: Missing from the on-line voting debate is any reference to the voting system that produces turn-out figures ranging from 77 to 93 percent of registered voters. The voting system used to collect and count the votes cast in our parliamentary elections. The system that involves citizens making their way to a polling station, marking their ballot-papers privately in a polling-booth, and then depositing them personally in a sealed ballot-box.
WHY ARE RETURNING OFFICERS coming out so strongly for
on-line voting? Of all the people in the world willing to advocate for a system
of voting so absurdly vulnerable to interference and corruption, returning
officers should be the very last. And yet, all week, as fears of a record low
voter turnout in this latest round of local government elections have grown, it
is returning officers who are among the keenest to give on-line voting a try.
The curious fact about this clamour for on-line voting is
that its proponents are offering it as a cure for declining voter
participation. Young people, notorious for their poor record for joining-in the
democratic process, are seen as the group most likely to benefit from this supposed
panacea. Missing from the debate, however, is the voting system that produces
turn-out figures ranging from 77 to 93 percent of registered voters. The voting
system used to collect and count the votes cast in our parliamentary elections.
The one that involves citizens making their way to a polling station, marking
their ballot-papers privately in a polling-booth, and then depositing them
personally in a sealed ballot-box.
This was, after all, the way New Zealanders used to vote in
local body elections. Why was it abandoned? Ironically, because voter turn-out
was falling, and it was thought that allowing people to fill out their ballot
papers at home, over a fortnight, and then pop them in the post, would make the
whole process easier, less stressful and more efficient. Predictably, there was
a slight up-tick in electoral participation, followed by another slow decline
in voter numbers.
Interestingly, the obvious weaknesses in postal voting were
never taken particularly seriously by its proponents. That it essentially did
away with the idea that casting a vote was something every citizen had a right
to do, alone, in a polling-booth, where they could be safe from the influence
of husbands, wives, other family members, and (thinking once again of younger voters)
flatmates, was not considered a serious enough defect to rule postal voting out
of contention.
The thought that a domineering husband and/or authoritarian
mother might commandeer their family’s voting papers and cast them all
themselves never appears to have crossed the reformers’ minds. Nor, apparently,
the possibility that a flat full of apathetic youngsters might simply invite
the one member of the household interested in politics to cast their votes for
them.
Exactly the same indifference to the possibility that an
election’s final outcome may not be an accurate reflection of the electorate’s
will is noticeable in the campaigners for on-line voting.
Similar indifference has been shown by those in charge of
the 2019 local government elections to the steadily declining efficacy of the
New Zealand Post Office. When postal voting was introduced in 1992, the
Internet was largely restricted to boffins and geeks. The mail was delivered on
every day of the week except Sunday, and a posted letter could travel from one
end of the country to the other more-or-less overnight. Over the course of the
last 27 years, however, the time taken for a letter to reach its addressee has
increased from one or two days to approximately a week. Likewise, the time
taken for ballot papers to be delivered and returned. It will be interesting to
discover how many 2019 ballot papers, posted no later than 5 days out from the
vote-count (as advised) nevertheless arrive after mid-day on Saturday, 12
October. Since NZ Post no longer date stamps letters, it will be impossible to
sort out which ballot papers should be counted and which disallowed. There is a
real possibility that hundreds – perhaps thousands – of citizens will end up
being disenfranchised by New Zealand’s sclerotic postal service.
The nation’s returning officers will, of course, object that
anyone who forgets to post their ballot papers can always deposit them by hand
in one of the ballot boxes situated in the local library and at the town hall.
In other words, to overcome the growing challenges associated with running an
efficient postal voting system, our returning officers have set up what are
effectively polling-booths to cater for the stragglers.
Honestly, it’s enough to make you wonder why we just don’t
admit that postal-voting, never a particularly good idea, has failed, and
return to the original – and by far the most secure – method of discovering the
electorate’s will. It could hardly be worse than the present system, and it
certainly beats the heck out of sending your vote into the void of cyberspace,
where neither you – nor the returning officers of the nation – have the
slightest notion of where it has been sent, what happened to it there, and on
whose behalf, before it ends up as a configuration of pixels blinking
mindlessly on some private-sector contractor’s computer screen.
Stealing a hard-copy election is surprisingly difficult and
very hard to hide. Stealing an on-line election, however, is a much easier
proposition. If it’s done properly, no one but the people who paid for the hack
will ever know.
This essay was originally posted on The Daily Blog
of Thursday, 10 October 2019.
