What's Hot at APSA.

The latest research on voting, popular opinion, and welfare reform

THIS AUGUST, TOP POLITICAL SCIENTISTS from around the country will converge on Atlanta for the annual American Political Science Association (APSA) conference. They will present papers that run the gamut of political science--from political theory to public policy. But this year, many of the academics are focused on a more mundane subject: the Average American. What is he thinking?

The Monthly talked to a few of the professors about their papers for this year's conference. Here's what they had to say.

Vote Early, Vote Often

In America, cynicism about politics is more than a popular trend--it's a national trademark. "I think there's a real concern in the country about the decay of political engagement," said Harvard Government professor Sidney Verba. For many Americans, this year's marathon Clinton-Lewinsky scandal did more than encourage the belief that all politicians are corrupt--it confirmed it. So it should not have been much of a surprise that so few Americans bothered to vote in the 1998 mid-term elections. Still, it came as a shock; pundits and political laymen alike began to worry about America's political future in light of this display of political apathy.

What is perhaps most troubling about the political malaise was the ferocity with which it has stricken our young. Of those between the ages of 18 and 24, fewer intend to go into politics than in any previous generation. In the last presidential election, seven out of 10 did not even vote.

Why are the nation's young people neglecting their most basic civic duty? A team of researchers--Kay Lehman Schlozman, Sidney Verba, Henry Brady, and Jennifer Erkulwater--tried to answer this question. In previous generations, war or depression might have provided the answer. But according to the researchers, the experience of Generation X is marked not by political disaster but political discontent. "[Young] citizens today entered the electorate at a time of widespread distrust of government and disillusionment with public life," they write. That environment discouraged civic participation.

Historically, young people consistently vote in smaller numbers than older members of the populace; electoral participation increases when they graduate to the next "phase" of their lives. And because so many young people today put off that next phase--waiting longer to marry, buy homes, and finish school--fewer of them vote.

When fewer Americans vote, those who do are likely to be more dedicated, more partisan, and often more politically extreme than the rest of the populace. Moderates lose representation and the political system loses their mitigating effect on the political extremes. Politicians are left to pander to those who would polarize American politics.

Indeed, according to Larry Bartels, Professor of Politics at Princeton University, today's voters are more likely to strongly identify with their political parties and vote party-line in a presidential election than any voting population since the 1950s.

Bartels' conclusion--that party identification is as strong as it has been in more than a generation--may surprise those who have accepted the conventional wisdom that political parties are in decline. Yet Bartels' conclusion is unconventional only because he uncovered a statistical parallax. That is, party identification is atrophying if one looks at the American public as a whole. But a substantial portion of that public does not vote--and they are enough to skew the data, creating the image of a widespread indifference to the party system. Those who do vote exhibit greater electoral loyalty to their political parties than any voters in 50 years. "It's consistent with what we have been seeing inside Congress, where we have parties more internally homogeneous and political parties more polarized," said Thomas Mann of the Brookings Institution.

According to Bartels' research, this trend is especially prominent among younger, better-educated voters. True, many of them represent the least likely to vote members of the electorate. But those who do vote are more likely to vote for members of their respective parties in both congressional and presidential elections than any group of voters in more than a generation.

Stand By Your Man

What was perhaps most surprising about public opinion this year was its sheer resilience. Hillary was not the only one who "stood by her man" throughout the impeachment hearings; America did--in overwhelming numbers. This came as a shock to pundits, politicians, and members of the press nationwide. The "rally effect" was in full force in America as the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal unfolded.

Amy Fried and Timothy Cole of the University of Maine examined approval ratings at each climacteric. Before the scandal broke in January, popular approval ratings of the president hovered around 60 percent. When news of the scandal unfolded, from January 21 to February 11, approval ratings climbed to 67 percent. On August 17 when Clinton made his Grand Jury appearance, approval ratings were at 62 percent. The release of the Clinton video testimony prompted a rating of 66 percent. And after the House voted to impeach Clinton, he won the highest approval ratings for his term in office: 73 percent.

The ratings only emphasized a growing rift between media and citizen opinion of the scandal. As Fried and Cole document, the media was far more critical of the president's actions than was the public at large. What the public was willing to dismiss as personal depravity, the media insisted was a national disaster. "In a way, I think it shows that there is more trust for politicians in the media than in the general public," Fried said. "In the public, the idea is, `well, so politicians lie. What else is new?'"

The "disconnect" between the media and the public revealed that the assumption of the media's control over public opinion had been badly exaggerated. Throughout the disclosure of scandal, public approval of the president proved buoyant--despite the media's repeated warnings that this would change. For members of Congress, this revelation came too late. According to the researchers, the belief that the media's opinion would eventually shape the public's provoked Republicans to clamor for impeachment. And it incited popular backlash.

Devolution And Its Discontents

Republicans aren't always unresponsive to the American will. In 1996, the GOP seized on a popular issue: welfare reform. With strong public approval and Clinton's signature, Republican lawmakers dismantled the old public assistance program and delegated implementation of the new system to the states.

Since then, welfare rolls have dropped precipitously. Republicans and Democrats have each claimed its success as a partisan victory. But it has been difficult to gauge whether those who leave welfare also graduate from the ranks of the working poor. Academics, for their part, are grappling with this question.

"There is a strong anti-welfare sentiment in this country," observed Linda Kato, professor of political science at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. "So Clinton stands up and says, `I just cut welfare caseloads,' and everybody claps. I think the question we need to ask is: Where are these people going?"

As Kato quickly discovered, many of the recipients were not going anywhere at all. The least successful group in finding jobs and keeping them was termed "hard to employ." These were single parents, high school dropouts, victims of drug addiction or abuse--and the "fast-track" government welfare-to-work programs proved unable to acclimate them to the work environment. "There are people that are basically illiterate," Kato explained. "How much can you teach them in a couple of weeks?"

What had the programs done wrong? Why were these people still out of work? According to Kato, fast-track programs, born of welfare reforms "work-first ethos" had assumed that these people could be made to learn. On-the-job training was sufficient to prepare them to get down to business. Yet as Kato discovered, the hardest part of work for many of these "hard-to-employ" recipients was just getting there. Many of them had Children at home and could not afford childcare or could not find openings at the few government-sponsored centers. Others had been badly spoiled by the "culture of dependency" and were completely unable to manage their lives or even sustain the motivation to arrive at work.

"There are so many things we just grow up learning that they don't," Kato said. "You know why it's important to show up for work on time. You know that in part because your friends work and your parents work. For people who've been hustling on the streets or surrounded by people who don't work, it's less obvious that work is such a good thing."

Yet amid the records of failed efforts to prepare these candidates for work, Kato discovered success: the Center for Employment Training (CET), a California-based non-profit training program. CET employees understood that getting off the dole means overcoming dependency; the move to work promises continual struggle, and it requires constant assistance. If clients had sick children at home, CET workers helped them find medical care. If clients needed transportation to work, CET provided it. If clients were concerned, nervous, or embarrassed about any part of their experience, CET workers addressed it.

Kato examined CET centers across the country. Consistently, she found that their success rate was unmatched in getting "hard to employ" clients to work and helping them remain there. The job-placement rate for those that graduated from the Bronx center program was 68 percent, at Newport News 73 percent, 67 percent in Oakland, 69 percent in Sacramento, 80 percent in San Jose, and 88 percent in Manhattan.

As Kato explained, when the federal government delegated responsibility for welfare to the states, it also created an incentive for the states to cut their welfare rolls each year. States receive a lump sum for welfare programs, but they can keep unused funding. And that "surplus" is not federally earmarked for welfare programs.

The majority of states' welfare money is apportioned to fast-track programs that streamline the more "elite" unemployed into low-level jobs. Little money is allotted for occupational training; centers that lack sufficient funding shut-down. The Manhattan center, which had the highest job-placement rate, has already closed.

Many of the other CET centers will also close as the states raise their already high job-placement requirements for the training centers. In 1996, when Kato began her research, states already demanded between 65 and 70 percent placement from the centers. By this summer, the Washington D.C. center, for example, had already raised its requirement to 75 percent.

As for the funds the states do use for welfare, as with all state programs, their objective is to maximize the economic utility of their resources. States channel the bulk of their welfare money into the fast-track programs that have better educated and more emotionally stable clientele--programs with more dependable success rates. And, Kato discovered, those in the greatest need--those that are "hard to employ"--remain just that.

ABIGAIL KRAUSER is an intern at The Washington Monthly.