I did something a few years ago that felt almost subversive. I changed my party registration.
Not because I'd suddenly become a true believer in either party's platform. Not because I wanted to vote for their presidential candidate in the primary. I did it because I'd figured out where the real power in American politics actually lives.
It lives in the primary election.
I was living in a district in New York so safely blue that the Democratic primary was the only election that mattered. The Republican candidate had no chance. Zero. Everyone knew it. So if I wanted any say in who represented me at the local, state, or federal level, I had to change my registration and vote in the Democratic primary.
When I went to vote in a primary, I was surrounded by people I barely recognized as Democrats or Republicans. These weren't the moderate, pragmatic problem-solvers I knew from work or my kids' schools. These were activists. True believers. People who'd never miss a vote, never skip a meeting, never compromise on principle.
Those who do vote in the primaries, they are the 20%. And they decide everything.
We are a country of moderates ruled by extremists. And this is exactly how it happens.
The Turnout Pyramid
Let's look at the numbers, because they tell a story about a world most Americans don't realize they're living in.
In a presidential election year, we hit our peak turnout. In 2020, 66.8% of eligible voters cast ballots — the highest rate since 1900. In 2016, it was 61.4%. Even in 2008's historic Obama-McCain race, only 63.6% voted. We average around 60–65% in presidential years and call it democratic engagement.
Then comes a midterm election with no president on the ballot. Turnout drops to around 40–50%. In 2022, 46.2% of eligible voters participated. In 2018, it was 50.3% — actually a modern high for midterms. Go back to 2014, and only 36.7% showed up.
Then we get to the off-year elections. School boards. City councils. State legislatures. Turnout craters even further. Municipal elections often see turnout rates between 15–27%, depending on whether they're held concurrently with federal elections.
But here's where it gets interesting: primary elections.
In 2020, roughly 30% of eligible voters cast ballots in presidential primaries — and that was considered high engagement. In most midterm and off-year primaries, turnout hovers between 10–20% of eligible voters, sometimes even lower. A 2014 analysis by the Bipartisan Policy Center found that just 15.9% of eligible voters participated in House primaries, with some states seeing single-digit participation.
Typical House primary turnout — the election that actually determines most representatives in Congress.
In safe districts, the primary is the only election that actually matters. And thanks to gerrymandering, most districts are considered safe. The general election is just a formality. The outcome was decided months earlier by 10–20% of the electorate.
If 10–20% of voters are picking the winner in the primary, and that district is safe, then 10–20% of Americans are picking 100% of that representative's policy positions. Because once you win that primary in a safe district, you're going to Congress. And you're going to vote the way those 10–20% expect you to vote, because they're the ones who can end your career in the next primary.
Multiply this across 435 House districts and 100 Senate seats, and you start to see the problem.
Roughly 20% of the most ideologically committed voters on each side are setting the agenda for the entire country. These are the people who show up every single time, who donate, who make phone calls, who knock on doors. Everyone else? We're just watching.
Who Shows Up to Primaries?
Let me be clear: the people who vote in primaries aren't bad people. They're engaged. They care. They're doing their civic duty while the rest of us are at home.
But they're not representative.
Research from the Brookings Institution shows that primary voters are older, whiter, wealthier, and more ideologically extreme than the general electorate. 2018 primary voters were significantly more conservative than Republican general election voters, and Democratic primary voters were significantly more liberal than Democratic general election voters.
Think about it. If you're a casual Democrat who has general opinions about healthcare — you think the current system is broken and would prefer a new system that covers everyone more affordably — are you motivated to show up to vote in a primary between a progressive who wants Medicare for All and a moderate who wants a public option? Probably not.
But the activist who's been canvassing for Medicare for All? Who's been to the rallies, donated to the campaign, argued about it on social media? That person is definitely voting.
Same on the Republican side. The casual conservative who thinks we should secure the border but also thinks mass deportations sound cruel and impractical? They might sit out the primary. But the person who wants every undocumented immigrant deported immediately? They're voting.
The result is predictable: candidates move to the extremes to win primaries. The moderate positions become political suicide. But the candidates with moderate views are the ones that might actually reflect what most Americans in that district think. They can't get elected.
Safe Districts, Radical Politics
Here's where gerrymandering comes in.
Most congressional districts in America are safe. Really safe. According to the Cook Political Report, in 2022 only 45 House seats were considered competitive — just over 10% of all seats. In 2020, that number was even lower at 31 truly competitive seats.
The Cook Political Report notes that competitive House seats are down 50% from 1997, largely due to sophisticated gerrymandering techniques and self-sorting, enabled by modern data analytics.
When your district elects one party over the other by a margin of 20% or more, that seat is not flipping in the general election. The real election happened in the primary. And that means the only voters who matter are the 10–20% of the electorate who showed up to pick between candidates from the same party.
This creates a perverse incentive structure. If you're a representative in a safe blue district, your biggest threat isn't a Republican challenging you in November. It's a progressive primary challenger accusing you of not being liberal enough. So you move left. If you're in a safe red district, same deal in reverse. Your threat is a MAGA candidate saying you're a RINO. So you move right.
A study by the nonpartisan group Unite America found that between 2012 and 2020, 83% of U.S. House races were won by margins of 10 points or more. In these safe seats, the primary winner went on to win the general election 98% of the time.
Of primary winners in safe House districts go on to win the general election. The race is over before it begins.
We've created a system that punishes compromise and rewards extremism. And then we wonder why Congress can't pass a budget, why every policy debate becomes a culture war, why our politics feels more like professional wrestling than governance.
The General Election Theater
By the time we get to November, the damage is done.
You've got a progressive Democrat facing off against a MAGA Republican, and both of them won their primaries by moving as far from the center as possible. Now they're supposed to moderate for the general election, make themselves palatable to swing voters, pretend they're not as extreme as they actually are.
Some try. They pivot. They talk about "working across the aisle" and "common-sense solutions." But voters aren't stupid. We know what they said in the primary. We know who funded their campaign. We know what they believe. And if they somehow win, they go to Washington and immediately face pressure from the 20% who got them there.
Meanwhile, the rest of us who didn't vote in the primary, who don't have strong ideological commitments, who just want the government to function — we're locked out. Our voices don't matter. Our preferences aren't represented. Our votes in November are a choice between two options we didn't pick and don't particularly like.
"Is it any wonder so many people don't bother showing up?"
The Moderate Majority in Exile
Here's what drives me crazy: most Americans are moderate.
I don't mean moderate in the sense of "split the difference on every issue." I mean moderate in the sense of "not ideologically captured by either party."
Gallup polling consistently shows that about 43% of Americans identify as independents — more than either Democrats or Republicans. I know plenty of people who think we should secure the border and create a path to citizenship for people who've been here for 20 years. I know people who want universal healthcare and think we need to control the deficit. I know people who support gun rights and want universal background checks.
These aren't contradictory positions. They're the positions of people trying to balance competing values.
But in our current system, these people are politically homeless. In many states they can't vote in primaries unless they pick a party. And if they pick a party, they're stuck choosing between candidates selected by the 20% they disagree with most of the time.
This is what I mean when I say 20% of voters control 100% of politics. It's not hyperbole. It's math.
What Happens When the Majority Gets Organized?
Here's a question worth asking: what if that silent majority had a party?
Right now, Democrats and Republicans each get about 20–30% of voters showing up reliably. They fight over the remaining 20% of persuadable voters in swing states and swing districts. Whoever wins that 20% gets to control everything until the next election.
But if a Moderate Party could capture even 20% of voters — the ones who are currently sitting out or holding their noses while voting for the "lesser evil" — they'd immediately be competitive with both legacy parties. And if they could capture 30%? They'd be the biggest party in the country.
In House and Senate elections, you just need a plurality. If a Moderate candidate wins 38% of the vote and the other two traditional candidates get 32% and 30% respectively, the Moderate wins. Full stop.
Now imagine the Moderate Party wins enough seats to destroy the majority in both chambers. Neither party can pass legislation on their own. Both sides have to negotiate with the moderate coalition. Both sides have to come to the table.
"Suddenly, the 20% who control the primaries don't matter as much anymore. Even if they pick the most extreme candidates possible, those candidates can't pass anything without working with moderates."
That's not a broken system. That's a system that's finally working the way the Founders intended. The Founders never mentioned political parties. They never anticipated them, and you don't see any mention of them in our founding documents. They wanted all elected officials to engage in spirited debate on every issue, forcing compromise, preventing tyranny of the majority, and requiring consensus.
The Game Is Rigged, But We Can Change the Rules
I know the American political system is stacked against third parties. I know about ballot access laws and campaign finance rules and media coverage and a thousand other obstacles.
But the system isn't rigged because it's designed to keep out better ideas. It's rigged because the people who benefit from the current system have built walls to protect their power. And walls can be torn down.
It starts with telling the truth: most Americans are moderate, and our political system doesn't represent us. The extremes are in control, and they're driving this country into the ground with their refusal to compromise. But it doesn't have to be this way.
In the next essay, I'll lay out exactly how a Moderate Party could function in the American system — not in some fantasy world where we rewrite the Constitution, but in the real world with the rules we have right now.
"The middle isn't weak. The middle isn't indecisive. The middle is where most of us actually live. It's time we started acting like it."