You’ve probably seen them. They sit behind the long plastic tables in church basements, school gyms, or community centers, usually surrounded by stacks of paper and those tiny, dull pencils. They look tired. They are usually caffeinated. But honestly, most people just call them "the poll people" and move on with their day. If you want to get technical—and the law definitely does—that person is often a deputy returning officer.
It sounds like a mouthful. It sounds like a mid-level bureaucratic role in a Victorian novel. In reality, the deputy returning officer (DRO) is the mechanical heart of a functioning democracy. Without them, the whole system of "one person, one vote" basically falls apart into a chaotic mess of uncounted slips and angry voters.
The Person Behind the Ballot Box
So, what is a deputy returning officer? At its simplest, they are the frontline official responsible for a specific polling station or a single ballot box. While the "Returning Officer" is the big boss of an entire electoral district (the person who manages thousands of people), the DRO is the boots-on-the-ground commander of their own small corner of the room.
They aren't just volunteers. Even though many are seniors or students looking for a bit of extra cash, they are legal officers of the state for that 12-to-15-hour shift. They take an oath. They can be prosecuted if they mess up. It's high stakes in a low-key setting.
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Think of it this way: if the election were a massive restaurant, the Returning Officer is the General Manager, and the deputy returning officer is the server who ensures your specific order is correct, recorded, and delivered to the kitchen without being tampered with.
What Actually Happens at 6:00 AM?
The day starts way before you show up to vent about local taxes. Most DROs are at the polling station while the sun is still deciding whether to rise. They have to "set up" the station. This isn't just unfolding chairs.
First, they have to prove the box is empty. This is a big deal. They show it to the poll clerks and any "scrutineers" (the eagle-eyed representatives from political parties) to confirm there aren't a thousand pre-marked ballots hidden in a false bottom. Then they seal it. Once that seal is on, that box is a legal vault.
They also have to initial every single ballot paper. If you’ve ever looked at the back of your ballot and seen some scribbled initials, that’s the DRO. It’s their "watermark." It proves that the piece of paper you’re holding came from their official stack and isn't a photocopy you smuggled in your jacket.
The Weird Power a DRO Holds
We live in a digital world, but elections are stubbornly analog in many places—and for good reason. The deputy returning officer has a surprising amount of discretionary power.
Let's say a voter walks in. They have a driver’s license, but the address is old. Or maybe they have a utility bill and a library card. The DRO has to make a call. They follow the manual—which is usually three inches thick—but they are the final arbiter of whether you get to vote at that specific moment.
- They verify your ID.
- They check your name off the list.
- They hand you the ballot (properly folded, usually).
- They watch you go behind the screen.
- They ensure you don't take a selfie with your ballot (which is illegal in many jurisdictions, by the way).
When you come back out, they don't take your ballot. You show them the initials on the back to prove it’s the same paper they gave you. Then, you drop it in. They are the guardians of the chain of custody. If that chain breaks, the election can be contested in court.
Dealing with the Chaos
People get grumpy. They wait in line for forty minutes, realize they are at the wrong polling station, and they take it out on the person in the vest. A good deputy returning officer needs the patience of a saint and the firmness of a bouncer.
I've talked to DROs who have dealt with everything. From voters who try to use their "sovereign citizen" manifestos as ID to people who accidentally bleed on the ballot because of a paper cut. The DRO has to keep their cool. They have to ensure the "sanctity of the vote," which is a fancy way of saying they keep things fair and quiet.
The job is exhausting. You can’t really leave your station. You eat your sandwich while staring at a voter list. You drink lukewarm coffee. And you do it because if you leave, the station has to stop, and that’s a constitutional nightmare.
The Count: Where it Gets Real
The polls close. The doors are locked. But for the deputy returning officer, the hardest part is just starting.
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Now comes the "tally." In many systems, like in Canada or parts of the UK and Australia, the DRO stays behind to count the physical slips. This isn't just a quick pile-sort. They have to account for every single piece of paper they were given in the morning.
- Used ballots: The ones in the box.
- Spoiled ballots: The ones where someone messed up and asked for a new one.
- Unused ballots: The blank ones left over.
- Cancelled ballots: The ones that got damaged or weren't issued.
The math has to be perfect. If you started with 500 ballots and you only have 499 in your various piles at the end of the night, you aren't going home. You are going through the trash. You are checking under the table. You are re-counting until the numbers align.
This is where the "scrutineers" get intense. They sit across from the DRO, watching every move. If a voter marked a "check" instead of an "X," or if the mark is slightly outside the circle, the DRO has to decide if that vote is valid. They look for the "intent of the voter." If the DRO says it counts, and the scrutineer disagrees, the DRO notes the objection in the logbook, but their decision usually stands for the night.
Why Do People Still Do This?
Honestly, the pay isn't great. It’s usually a flat fee that works out to something close to minimum wage when you factor in the training sessions and the 15-hour day.
Most people do it for the front-row seat to history. There is something profoundly human about seeing your entire neighborhood walk through a room. You see the 18-year-old voting for the first time, terrified they’ll do it wrong. You see the 90-year-old who hasn't missed an election since the 1950s.
A deputy returning officer is the person who makes sure those voices actually land in the total. They are the final line of defense against fraud and the first line of service for the public.
Common Misconceptions About the Role
A lot of people think the DRO works for the government in power. They don't. Or at least, they shouldn't. In healthy democracies, election agencies are independent. The DRO is a temporary civil servant. Their loyalty isn't to the Prime Minister or the President; it’s to the ballot box.
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Another myth is that they can "fix" the election. In reality, it’s almost impossible. Because there are poll clerks, other DROs, and party observers all in the same room, any attempt to stuff a box or disappear a pile of votes would be caught instantly. It’s a system built on mutual suspicion, which weirdly creates total trust.
Essential Skills for the Job
If you're ever thinking about applying, don't think it's just about sitting there. You need a specific set of "soft" and "hard" skills that most people underestimate.
- Extreme Attention to Detail: If you lose one ballot, you’ve failed.
- Conflict Resolution: You will meet people who are angry about politics and decide that you, the person in the beige cardigan, are the face of the "deep state." You have to de-escalate that.
- Physical Stamina: Sitting in a plastic chair for 14 hours is harder than it looks on your lower back.
- Legal Literacy: You have to be able to read and apply a massive manual of rules on the fly.
Practical Steps If You Want to Involved
Elections always need people. If the idea of being a deputy returning officer sounds interesting—or if you just want to see how the sausage is made—here is how you actually do it.
- Check the Timeline: Don't wait until the week before the election. Staffing usually happens months in advance.
- Contact Your Local Election Office: Whether it’s your county clerk or a national agency like Elections Canada or the AEC, look for the "Employment" or "Working at the Polls" section on their website.
- Attend the Training: Do not skip this. The rules change. What was valid ID four years ago might not be valid now. They will pay you for the training, usually, so just go and take notes.
- Prepare for the Long Haul: Pack a "survival kit." Water, snacks that don't make a mess, a portable phone charger, and maybe some ibuprofen. You’ll thank yourself at 10:00 PM when you’re still counting.
The role of the deputy returning officer is often invisible, and that’s usually a sign they did a great job. When the news anchors report the results at night, they are reading the numbers that thousands of DROs hand-wrote on official certificates just an hour prior. It’s a gritty, exhausting, and vital job. It’s the closest most of us will ever get to the actual gears of power.
Actionable Insights for Voters
When you walk into the polling station next time, remember that the deputy returning officer is following a very strict script. If they ask you for ID you think you shouldn't need, or if they take a moment to double-check their list, they aren't being difficult. They are protecting the integrity of your vote and everyone else's.
To make their life (and yours) easier:
- Have your voter notification card and ID ready before you reach the front of the line.
- Confirm your current address matches your ID, or bring a secondary document like a utility bill.
- If you make a mistake on your ballot, don't try to erase it. Take it back to the DRO. They will "spoil" it and give you a fresh one. It’s your right.
- Be patient. They've probably been there since 5:30 AM and have six more hours of counting to do after you leave.