Opinion | A Biden-Trump Rematch Might Stink. People Will Hold Their Noses.

Well, in “deja vu all over again” news, Washington’s movers and shakers were rubbing egos again this past weekend, the Kardashians are back in court and a new poll tells us that Americans are chomping at the bit for their chance to vote for a third party — provided you not squint too closely.

The question from the Harvard/Harris poll: “Do you think that you would consider a moderate independent candidate for president if the 2024 match was between Donald Trump and Joe Biden?”

Now, “consider” is a lot less binding an opinion than “can we vote today?” Still, 58 percent of respondents said yes, a pretty hefty majority for a question that asks voters if they’re prepared to overturn 160 years of history and send a third party to the White House. Nancy Jacobson, the CEO and founder of the centrist advocacy group “No Labels,” seized on the poll as evidence that a moderate independent contender could actually win this time: “2024 may prove to be a whole different ballgame.” (Could that be what’s on the mind of Andrew Yang, the former Democratic presidential candidate and New York City mayoral contender, who created the Forward Party last fall?)

It's true that a Biden-Trump rematch would produce many a grimace; neither man is particularly popular (nor particularly young). But the fact is, the attraction of “neither of the above” has been a constant, if limited, feature of American political life for more than a century. Last year, when Gallup asked a similar question in the pre-inflation, pre-Ukraine, pre-immigration surge, pre-we’re-going-to-Hell-in-an-express-elevator atmosphere, 62 percent of U.S. adults said the “parties do such a poor job representing the American people that a third party is needed.” Yet whenever the public is actually given the chance to choose a different path, it ultimately demurs (apart from the modest amount of people who effectively throw away their ballot). And there’s no reason to think 2024 will be different.

Thirty years ago, a quirky character out of Texas with a million quips and several billion dollars actually won 19 percent of the vote in a general election; until Ross Perot’s sudden and temporary departure from the race, he was running competitively with President George Bush and Governor Bill Clinton. A decade earlier, in the late spring of 1980, Republican-turned-independent John Anderson was essentially even with President Jimmy Carter and Governor Ronald Reagan, before winding up with 7 percent of the vote. In 1948 and 1968, two segregationists — South Carolina Governor Strom Thurmond and Alabama Governor George Wallace — won enough electoral votes to threaten a deadlocked Electoral College but both came up short. While Calvin Coolidge was gliding to a landslide in 1924, progressive Sen. Bob LaFollette was winning his home state of Wisconsin, along with 16.6 percent of the national popular vote.

What’s notable is how varied the source of these independent campaigns were, and how common the end result. They were by turns regional and national, ideological- and process-driven, rooted in broad disaffection and the appeal of charismatic candidates, but none came close to setting down roots in the American political system that would nurture a long-term political movement, let alone propel someone to victory. In 1912, even Theodore Roosevelt — one of the most popular presidents ever to hold the office — could not sustain a functioning Progressive Party to reclaim the White House or remain a significant power player.

No other free nation has stuck so firmly to its dominant two parties than the United States. A century ago, Britain’s Labour Party replaced the Liberal Party as one of the two dominant parties, and newer entries like the Scottish National Party hold significant power. In France, Emmanuel Macron’s party did not exist a decade ago, while the two dominant French parties of the previous era are now pathetic shadows of their old selves. (The socialist party won less than 2 percent of the vote.) Yet here in the United States, whose founders deplored the idea of political “factions,” the two-party system endures with the same two parties that have existed since the 19th century.

They endure even though two of the principal obstacles to competing parties have been essentially removed. Ballot access laws used to make third parties battle Parris Island obstacle courses. Then, after Perot’s lawyers entered the fray, the obstacles were essentially cleared away. (In fact, it became so easy for minor party candidates to get on the Florida ballot that in 2000, a Palm Beach County election official came up with a new design to make sure the names on the ballot were readable. The “butterfly” ballot may jog a memory or two…)

The other obstacle — money — is essentially yesterday’s news. From the ability of billionaires to give themselves unlimited aid to the flood of dark, beige, and “clean” money empowered by Citizens United to the power of the Internet, finances no longer stand in the way of a mass movement getting its voice heard.

The fundamental hurdle to third parties here, rather, are structural. We elect our presidents through a mechanism — the Electoral College — that ensures that even a nationally popular party or figure can wind up with no voice whatsoever. Strom Thurmond got 2 percent of the popular vote in 1948, but because it was regionally concentrated, he won 39 electoral votes. Perot got 19 percent of the national vote in 1992, and not a single electoral vote. (Back in 2007, when he was considering an independent run for the White House, New York Mayor Mike Bloomberg told me, “I could spend half a billion dollars, and the most I could achieve is to deadlock the Electoral College.” Instead, he spent more than $1 billon to run as a Democrat in 2020 and only won American Samoa.)

Moreover, we do not have a parliamentary system. When Perot was campaigning on the then-horrific $3 trillion federal debt, there was no “Balanced Budget” party to run on this issue across the country. By contrast, when environmentalists in Germany felt their voice was unheeded, they formed a Green Party, which won 15 percent of the vote last year and which is often a significant player in coalition governments. The only impact of Perot’s remarkable run — and it was significant — was to force Clinton to address the budget deficit. That’s how it’s been throughout the history of the United States: A third party’s popular stance gets absorbed by one of the major parties and the independent movement withers away.

What makes this picture even gloomier for advocates of more political choices is the impact of polarization. Today, unlike in times past, the most reliable predictor of a presidential vote is the party of the voter. This may seem obvious, but it has only been recently true. In the tight election of 1976, 11 percent of Republicans voted for Jimmy Carter and 20 percent of Democrats voted for Gerald Ford. In 2020, 94 percent of Democrats voted for Biden; 94 percent of Republicans voted for Trump. In this climate — where large factions of party members regard the other party as not just wrong, but evil — the idea of a new entity drawing discontented voters from the center of both parties seems a heavy reach.

If you’re looking for possible good news about an alternative to the two parties, there are some structural reforms already in place that might help. The newer primary rules in states like California and Alaska, where the two or four survivors of a first-round primary advance to November regardless of party; the “ranked choice” voting system that makes a voter’s second choice potentially decisive — these may give life to an old hunger that has never been fully fed since John Charles Fremont ran for president in 1956 on the new Republican Party. But do not let the latest polls mislead you. The distance between the abstract appeal of a new voice and the reality of a viable new party or independent candidate is immense.