Why hasn't the electoral college been abolished yet? The Reality of American Politics

Why hasn't the electoral college been abolished yet? The Reality of American Politics

It happens every four years like clockwork. The votes are counted, a map turns red and blue, and suddenly everyone is screaming at their television about why a candidate who got millions more votes than their opponent is currently packing up their office instead of moving into the White House. You've probably felt that frustration. It feels glitchy. Like the "democracy" app on your phone is running an operating system from 1787 that won't let you update. Honestly, it’s because it is.

So, why hasn't the electoral college been abolished?

If you ask a constitutional scholar, they’ll give you a dry lecture on federalism. Ask a politician, and they’ll give you a speech about "protecting the voice of rural voters." But the truth is a messy, tangled web of math, intense partisan fear, and a legal hurdle so high it makes Olympic pole vaulting look like a casual stroll. We aren't just talking about a simple policy change. We are talking about ripping out the engine of the American ship while it’s still in the middle of the ocean.

The Brutal Math of the Constitutional Amendment

Let’s get the biggest roadblock out of the way first. Changing the way we elect the President isn't like passing a tax cut or a highway bill. It requires a Constitutional Amendment.

To even get an amendment on the table, you need a two-thirds vote in both the House and the Senate. Think about the last time two-thirds of Congress agreed on what to have for lunch. It doesn't happen. Even if by some miracle of bipartisanship it passed through D.C., the real nightmare begins in the states. You need three-fourths of the states—that’s 38 out of 50—to ratify it.

Here is the kicker: the current system benefits small states. Why would Wyoming, Vermont, or Delaware vote to give away their outsized influence? Under the current math, a voter in Wyoming has significantly more "weight" in the Electoral College than a voter in California. If you’re a state legislator in a small state, voting to abolish the system is basically voting to make your own constituents less relevant on the national stage. It’s political suicide.

History shows us how hard this is. Back in 1969-1970, we actually came incredibly close. The Bayh-Celler Amendment, which would have replaced the Electoral College with a direct popular vote, passed the House with a massive 338-70 vote. President Richard Nixon supported it. The American Bar Association supported it. It looked like a done deal. Then, it hit a filibuster in the Senate led by Southern and small-state senators who realized their regional power was at stake. It died there. Since then, the partisan divide has only widened, making that 1970 attempt look like a pipe dream.

✨ Don't miss: Removing the Department of Education: What Really Happened with the Plan to Shutter the Agency

The "Swing State" Narcissism

There is a weird psychological element to this too. If you live in Pennsylvania, Ohio, Florida, or Arizona, you are the belle of the ball. Candidates spend billions—yes, billions with a "B"—on ads in your zip code. They visit your diners. They promise to protect your specific industries, whether it's fracking or orange groves.

If we moved to a popular vote, candidates wouldn't spend all their time in Philadelphia suburbs. They’d go where the people are: New York City, Los Angeles, Chicago, Houston.

The states that currently decide elections have zero incentive to change the rules. They like the attention. They like the money. They like that the President of the United States has to care about what a suburban dad in Bucks County thinks about gas prices. If you abolish the Electoral College, Pennsylvania becomes just another state. That loss of "swing state" status is a massive deterrent for local politicians who hold the power to ratify amendments.

The Fear of the "Urban Domination" Narrative

You've heard the argument: "Without the Electoral College, the big cities would run the country."

This is a powerful talking point, even if the math is a bit more complicated than people realize. Republicans, in particular, have come to view the Electoral College as their last line of defense. Since 1992, the GOP has only won the popular vote once (George W. Bush in 2004). Yet, they’ve held the presidency for twelve of those years.

From a purely tactical standpoint, why would the Republican Party ever agree to abolish a system that is currently the only reason they can win the White House? They wouldn't. It would be like a football team agreeing to stop counting field goals because the other team is better at kicking them.

🔗 Read more: Quién ganó para presidente en USA: Lo que realmente pasó y lo que viene ahora

But it’s not just about parties; it’s about the "California-ization" of America. There is a deep-seated fear in rural America that a direct popular vote would mean their concerns—agriculture, land rights, rural infrastructure—would be ignored in favor of the needs of high-density urban centers. Whether or not that’s true is up for debate, but the perception is a solid wall blocking change.

The Ghost of the Founding Fathers

We have to talk about the "Great Compromise." The guys in wigs back in 1787 weren't trying to create a perfect democracy. They were actually kind of terrified of "the mob." They wanted a buffer.

James Madison and the rest of the crew were trying to balance two things: the power of the people and the power of the states as individual entities. They also had to deal with the ugly reality of slavery. The "Three-Fifths Compromise" allowed Southern states to count enslaved people toward their population for Congressional seats (and thus electoral votes) without giving those people any rights. This gave the South a massive advantage in the Electoral College for decades.

Even though slavery is gone, the skeletal structure of that compromise remains. We are still living in a house built on a foundation designed to keep a fragile collection of states from breaking apart. Many people treat the Constitution like a sacred, unchangeable text rather than a living document. This "Originalist" view makes any attempt to change the Electoral College feel like an attack on the country's DNA.

Since a Constitutional Amendment is basically impossible right now, some clever folks came up with a "workaround." It’s called the National Popular Vote Interstate Compact (NPVIC).

The idea is sort of brilliant in its simplicity. States pass a law saying they will give all their electoral votes to whoever wins the national popular vote, regardless of who won in their specific state. But—and this is a big "but"—the law only kicks in once enough states have joined to reach 270 electoral votes.

💡 You might also like: Patrick Welsh Tim Kingsbury Today 2025: The Truth Behind the Identity Theft That Fooled a Town

As of now, 17 states and D.C. have signed on, totaling 209 electoral votes. They need 61 more.

Sounds easy, right? Not really. The states that have signed on are all "Blue" states. To get to 270, they need "Purple" or "Red" states to join the party. And as we discussed, those states aren't exactly itching to give up their current leverage. Even if they hit 270, the Supreme Court would likely spend a decade tearing the legality of the compact apart. It’s a clever "hack," but it’s far from a guaranteed fix.

The Cost of the Status Quo

So, we stay stuck. But being stuck has real-world consequences. When the winner of the popular vote loses the presidency, it creates a "crisis of legitimacy." People start to feel like their vote doesn't count—and if you're a Republican in California or a Democrat in Mississippi, in the context of the presidential race, it technically doesn't.

This leads to lower voter turnout and increased polarization. Candidates don't try to appeal to the whole country; they try to fire up a tiny sliver of voters in five or six specific counties.

What You Can Actually Do

Since you probably can't go out and amend the Constitution yourself this afternoon, here is the reality of how you engage with this system:

  • Focus on State Legislatures: The NPVIC is currently the only active path toward changing the system without a federal amendment. If you feel strongly about this, your local state representative has more power over the Electoral College's future than your Congressman does.
  • Support Electoral Reforms like RCV: Ranked Choice Voting (RCV) is gaining steam in states like Maine and Alaska. While it doesn't abolish the Electoral College, it changes how electors are chosen and can make the system feel more representative of what people actually want.
  • Acknowledge the Trade-offs: If we did move to a popular vote, the "battleground" would shift. Instead of seeing ads in Phoenix, you'd see them in NYC. Understanding that no system is perfect helps move the conversation away from partisan yelling and toward actual structural debate.
  • Don't Ignore Local Elections: Because the Electoral College makes the presidential race feel like a foregone conclusion in "safe" states, many people stay home. But your local sheriff, school board, and judges are elected by a direct popular vote. That’s where your "one person, one vote" power is most immediate.

The Electoral College isn't going anywhere tomorrow. It’s bolted to the floor of the American experiment. But understanding the specific reasons why—the math, the regional ego, and the historical baggage—is the first step in deciding whether we want to keep living in a house that hasn't had a structural renovation in over 200 years.


Actionable Insights:
To influence the future of the Electoral College, track the progress of the National Popular Vote Interstate Compact in your specific state's legislature. Engage with non-partisan groups like FairVote that analyze how different voting systems impact representation. If you live in a "safe" state, focus your political energy on down-ballot races where the popular vote determines the outcome directly and where your individual participation has the highest statistical impact on governance.