On its face, the United Seniors Association (USA) decision two weeks ago to launch a major advertising blitz in support of the House Republicans' prescription-drug proposal was not unusual. The pharmaceutical industry, which funds the USA, has a huge stake in how the prescription-drug debate plays out in Congress. Since the 1994 elections, the drug industry's campaign contributions have tilted Republican at about 72 percent. And even the ad campaign's $3 million price tag made sense: Steep, but a worthwhile investment to influence what could turn out to be a massive new government spending program.
What was odd was that the Republican plan in question doesn't really exist yet -- because Republicans in the House are sharply divided over precisely what kind of plan to offer voters this fall. On the one side are Republican leaders, who circulated a draft plan in early May that would finance a modest Medicare-based prescription-drug benefit by cutting back Medicare payments to hospitals. On the other are several dozen rank-and-file Republicans who felt the benefit was either too small ($350 billion to the Democrats' $500 billion), too stingy (annual drug costs between $2,000 and $5,000 wouldn't be covered at all), or too shortsighted (because it would rob Peter's HMO to pay for Paul's arthritis pills).
By mid-May the dissidents were close to open revolution -- which is why the drugindustry, hoping to shore up support for the leadership's plan, had gotteninvolved in the first place. Republican Charlie Norwood of Georgia told reportersthe bill had "serious problems." Iowa Representative Greg Ganske warned ofsmall-town hospitals "getting close to bankruptcy." Pennsylvania's John E.Peterson predicted "devastating consequences" should the bill become law. Butit's not just the consequences for hospitals that worry Norwood, Peterson, andGanske. It's the consequences for themselves. Issues that seemed to have lostpotency in the months after September 11 -- not just prescription drugs, but alsoSocial Security and Medicare -- have taken on a new urgency. Dozens of GOPincumbents are starting to feel vulnerable, as well they should: If 1992 was theYear of the Woman, 2002 is shaping up to be the Year of the Geezer.
If presidential elections are a little like World War II -- twovast armies squaring off from coast to coast -- midterm elections are more likeguerrilla wars. They are fought almost entirely by small numbers of highlytrained, highly motivated foot soldiers: union workers and African Americans forthe Democrats, religious conservatives and gun owners for the Republicans. Realcombat is limited to a handful of competitive congressional districts and stateswith weak or retiring senators. And relatively few of those Americans eligible tovote actually will. The signs are already there: According to Democratic pollsterCelinda Lake, women over age 60 have become the single most Democratic age groupin the country, creating a massive 22-point gender gap among senior women betweenthe two parties.
The result is that tiny groups of voters -- and even tinier swingswithin those groups -- can move an election one way or another. The last timearound, in 1998, the Democrats surprised everybody, including themselves, bygaining five House seats. They won those seats in part through small butsignificant shifts in turnout among black voters -- a campaign masterminded byDemocratic campaign whiz Donna Brazile at the Democratic Congressional CampaignCommittee, and energized by the Republican drive to impeach Bill Clinton. In the25 targeted congressional districts, African-American turnout jumped from 5percent to 10 percent. (The labor vote also increased significantly, to 23percent in 1998 from a 13 percent share of the electorate during the dismal 1994election.)
Sheer demographics, then, explain in part why seniors will be so pivotal in2002: By some estimates they will constitute nearly one-third of voters who go tothe polls in November -- up from about 22 percent in 2000. In some states, such asFlorida and Pennsylvania, seniors will make up a whopping 40 percent of 2002voters. Iowa, West Virginia, and Nevada -- each of which, like Florida andPennsylvania, has between one and four open or competitive House seats -- are alsodisproportionately senior-heavy. So are the many swing districts in rural areas,which have been getting older and older as more and more young people leave forthe suburbs and cities.
But if older Americans are especially dominant in particular districts andstates, what makes them so attractive to campaign strategists is that they areubiquitous. Unlike African Americans (who are concentrated in major cities and inthe South) and union members (who are concentrated in the Northeast, theindustrial Midwest, and the Pacific coast), seniors can be found in every stateand every congressional district in America -- big cities and small cities, suburbsand rural areas, North and South, East and West. Why is this important? Becauseit helps solve a tactical problem that is especially pronounced in a closemidterm election: where to target campaign resources. Congressional campaignstrategists tend to ignore solidly partisan districts with safe incumbents,preferring to focus on vulnerable candidates in middle-of-the-road swingdistricts. But those same solidly partisan districts are a priority for Senatecampaign strategists, who need high turnout among party regulars to win closestatewide races. A national campaign that caters to senior citizens servescongressional and statewide candidates alike.
It's also a safe investment because Geezers -- unlike, say, Whippersnappers -- areespecially reliable voters. During campaign season, older Americans truly earnthe appellation Senior Citizen: They show up at the polls more consistently thannonseniors. They read more newspapers (and more political magazines, includingthis one). They listen more closely to campaign ads and stump speeches. They payattention to the issues -- and they pay especially close attention to their issues, which is to say the security of Social Security, the cost of prescription drugs, and the generosity of Medicare benefits.
The growing senior vote is not a new phenomenon, of course,although it is accelerating. (The projected increase for 2002 is about double theusual uptick, since 1992, of 1 percent or 2 percent per election cycle.) What'sinteresting is the partisan breakdown. The Democrats have taken a majority of thesenior vote in every presidential election since 1992, when Clinton won thesenior vote by a resounding 12 points; the Republicans, in turn, have won amajority of the senior vote in both the 1994 and 1998 midterm elections. But asthe baby boomers approach retirement, the senior vote seems to be trendingDemocratic. The GOP's strong showing in 1998 had a lot to do with seniors'disgust with Clinton; in 2000's House races, they went Democratic by two points.
What has the Republicans worried is that it is precisely on seniorissues that the Democrats are best positioned to run this fall. The most obviousreason is that the generic Democratic advantage on Social Security andprescription drugs -- which tilted the senior vote to Al Gore by about fourpoints -- is magnified in a senior-heavy election. But there are other strategicadvantages. Unlike gun control, for instance, Social Security and prescriptiondrugs are issues on which Democrats in Washington are fairly united. TheDemocrats' generous prescription-drug plan plays well in rural swing districtswhere Republicans typically have the advantage, but which are alsodisproportionately old (and getting older). And unlike, say, repealing the taxcut, prescription-drug coverage is a fight the Democrats can win.
House Republicans, meanwhile, are particularly vulnerable on senior issues,because it is precisely in this territory that they have the least cover fromPresident Bush. In fact, Bush's agenda on such issues is hurting hiscongressional wing. The White House's prescription-drug plan, which HouseRepublicans are trying to ignore, proposed a miserly $190 billion in spending.That's one reason why Bush's approval rating on health care -- about 44 percent -- isamong his worst. (Bush's advisers are loath to drive up spending on Medicare bothbecause it will increase government spending and because they don't want to giveDemocrats more room to hammer away at Bush's lack of "fiscal responsibility." ButKarl Rove's candidate doesn't face the voters this November, as Republicanmembers of Congress have noted.) And although Social Security privatization pollshorribly among seniors, the Bush administration has been pressuring the House GOPto move forward on one of the privatization plans issued last year by thePresident's Commission to Strengthen Social Security.
For seniors, issues such as Social Security and prescription drugs areconcrete, "pocketbook" concerns that cut across class and regional lines and thatdon't go away -- especially not in a recession. Whippersnappers may not mark thedifference between a $350 billion prescription-drug plan and a $500 billion one;they tend to count the zeros and leave it at that. But Geezer supervoters onfixed incomes pay close attention to the details: deductibles, coverage"donuts," and premiums increases. (Remember the Social Security "notch"?) TheRepublicans can fool a lot of voters by offering a Patients' Bill of Rights or aprescription-drug benefit that looks and sounds about right. But it's harder tofool seniors.
So it's among older Americans that the Democrats have their best shot atarticulating a coherent political agenda -- and, just as importantly, atdifferentiating it from the Republican alternatives. Bread-and-butter issuesmay, of course, lack a certain sexiness. When the Democrats outlined their fallcampaign themes in late April you could practically see the eyes rolling. The"repackaged Democratic agenda," Alison Mitchell noted dryly in The New YorkTimes, is "not significantly different from what the party presented in 2000." But that's irrelevant. If the package hasn't changed, the electorate certainly has. Several years ago, in 1998, a few thousand senior votes nationwide were credited with keeping the House in Republican hands. In 2002, it may take only a few thousand votes to swing it back.
