Canada West Foundation Blog

By: Robbie Rolfe

The results of the Alberta provincial election that took place on April 23, 2012 generated a lot of commentary on the gap between what the polls were saying and what actually happened on election day. While this is an interesting puzzle, it is perhaps more important to look at another gap—namely, the chasm between votes cast and seats won.

There is a large differential between the percentage of the vote some parties received and the percentage of seats they won. The table below shows seat share minus vote share by region. A negative number indicates where a party had a smaller share of seats than votes while a positive number indicates where a party had a larger share of the seats than votes. When it comes to the first and second place parties (the Progressive Conservative and Wildrose parties), the differentials are quite large.



The Wildrose party had strong support across the province. Nevertheless, it came a close second or third in many ridings. To modify the cliché, close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, not in the single member plurality races we use to select our representatives in Alberta and across the country. So despite garnering more than a third of the popular vote in the province, the Wildrose party won only a fifth of the seats.

The Progressive Conservative party, on the other hand, won about 23 more seats than it would have if each party had received the same proportion of seats as its proportion of the popular vote. In many cases, the PCs won with a plurality (the most votes) rather than a majority.

Another way to measure the gap between vote share and seat share that typifies single member plurality systems is the least squares index, a common measure of proportionality used in political science. The scale runs from 0 to 100 with higher numbers indicating a less proportional result. This measure allows us to compare proportionality across elections. For the recent Alberta election, its value is about 22. To provide some context, that is a more disproportional result than any Canadian federal election since 1945. (This includes Brian Mulroney’s 1984 victory, where his party won 75% of the seats with 50% of the votes, while the Liberal and New Democratic parties’ seat shares were about half of their popular vote shares.)

Proportionality matters. Arguably, when the distribution of seats in the legislature does not accurately match the preferences of the voters expressed in the general election, it is less likely to pass laws reflecting the diverse preferences of the population. In other words, the single member plurality system we use in Canada tends to distort the representativeness of our legislatures.

To create a better match between votes and seats, we would need to implement some form of proportional representation. In these systems, seats are allocated based on a candidate or party’s share of the popular vote rather than on which candidate comes first in each riding. It may even have other positive effects (for example, it may increase the number of women and ethnic minority representatives in the legislature, two historically underrepresented groups).

Of course, a change of this sort will also have costs. For example, it will likely mean the end of majority government. In order to get a majority in a proportional representation system, one party will have to get very close to half the vote in order to get more than half the seats. This could be costly because majority governments are seen as stable, strong and able to implement their campaign promises. Voters can also identify responsibility easily and hold governments accountable when one party controls the levers of power. It is also easy for the electorate to turn majority governments out in a single member plurality system, as small movements in the popular vote can result in large changes in seats. (Some also argue that majority governments are better for economic performance, though there appears to be no statistically significant link in practice between the electoral system and economic performance. See, for example, Arend Lijphart’s 1999 book, which compares different democratic institutional types.)

Nevertheless, we can discuss and decide on a system that works for us. There are many options we can choose (we can even retain single member districts). We can minimize the costs and maximize the benefits.

We cannot do that, however, without talking about it—it is time to grapple with this elephant in our political living room.
 

Over 40 years ago J.M.S. Careless wrote that “the experience of regionalism remains prominent and distinctive in Canadian history—time has tended less to erode it than to develop it.” This observation holds true, regionalism continues to be prominent in the national dialogue to this day. We regularly hear that the West is distinct from the center, the North is not the same as Atlantic Canada and so on.

Now, granted there are regional differences, but are they really as acute as some make them out to be?

Canadians have been certain for so long that we are regionally divided that we’ve dedicated significant portions of our governmental systems to accommodate regionalism. Our Senate is a good example. One of the primary purposes of the Senate is to provide regional representation and this is done through the division of seats. As such, the four traditional regions (Ontario, Quebec, the Maritime provinces and the western provinces) all get 24 seats each, Newfoundland and Labrador gets six and each of the territories gets one. This formula remains static regardless of population shifts so, theoretically, even if the population of the West doubled, these numbers wouldn’t change.

Our electoral system is another example. There are few redeeming features of first-past-the-post as far as electoral systems go, but the one thing it does really, really well is reward geographically concentrated or regionally based parties. That’s why we have a party like the Bloc Québécois and why the Reform Party was able to make such a dramatic entrance onto the federal scene via the West. These parties were able to get their foot (and leg and torso) in the door because our electoral system caters to regionally concentrated parties.

As long as we are comfortable with the notion that region is the most important characteristic of Canadians, this is all well and good. But what if we aren’t sure?

Hear me out: when one of the main functions of the Senate is to represent regional interests, that sends a message that the most important characteristic about you, from the government’s point of view, is whether you live in Quebec, Nova Scotia or British Columbia. That is more important than any other identity you might have including your gender, religious beliefs, ethnicity, age, sexual orientation, etc. We have designed a political system wherein these identities are of secondary importance to where you live.

This raises an interesting question: are the political institutions and systems we have in place a reflection of the regional differences that exist in this country, or, do they actually contribute to the continued perception of regional divisiveness by masking complexity and elevating geography to a higher level of importance than other forms of identity?

As an example of how complexity can be masked, take a look at the electoral distribution map of Canada. At first glance, there appears to be quite a bit that differentiates an Ontarian from a Saskatchewanian based on their different voting behaviors. Western Canada is a veritable sea of Conservative blue, Quebec is dominated by the Bloc Québécois and Atlantic Canada is varying shades of Liberal red. From that perspective, there appears to be quite a bit that separates any given person in Alberta from any given person in PEI.

This is not, however, an accurate reflection of the variance of Canadian perspectives and ideologies. In the 2008 federal election, the Conservatives might have received 96% of the seats in Alberta, but they only received 65% of the vote (that is, 65% of the 53% who bothered to vote). Similarly, in PEI the Liberals got 75% of the seats, but only 48% of the vote. Our first-past-the-post electoral system exaggerates the differences between regions and helps to encourage political parties to focus on regional strengths. There are undoubtedly regional differences of ideology and thought, but they are not as dramatic as they may first appear due to the masking effect of our current political system.

As a thought experiment, if Canada changed over to a more proportional system of voting and we made the Senate representative of cultural, linguistic, and religious diversity, what effect do you think that would have on our understanding of regions?

Posted By: Shawna Ritchie