Not every early voting change in North Carolina is a Republican conspiracy | Opinion
Our current political climate has primed us to see bad faith everywhere. And to be fair, that’s not entirely unreasonable. North Carolina politics has a long tradition of hardball, and election rules can be a tempting place to play it.
But gamesmanship is not the only explanation for why decisions get made. That’s worth keeping in mind after the State Board of Elections, now under Republican control, signed off on early voting plans for the upcoming primary.
In the overwhelming majority of counties, the process was routine and plans were approved unanimously. In a smaller set of counties, local boards couldn’t agree and the state board had to step in.
Progressive advocacy groups seized on those cases and are now trying to turn them into a statewide morality play about voter suppression. Common Cause has promoted a claim that 30 percent of counties have less access this cycle, suggesting early voting is being “taken away,” especially from students.
The reality is more mundane. These disputes are generally not ideological crusades. They are local officials trying to run a long early voting period with limited staff, limited facilities, and limited money. Constraints force tradeoffs. That is rarely inspiring, but it is often the truth.
In a moment like this, the bar should be the same for everyone. Critics should argue from facts. But elections officials should also explain their decisions plainly, including the tradeoffs.
A prime example
Consider Jackson County.
The dispute over the early voting plan in this rural mountain county has been framed as whether students will be allowed to vote. Activists pushed for an early voting site on the campus of Western Carolina University, but the state board ultimately approved a plan without one there.
That framing skips the real question. Jackson County has four total early voting sites serving a widely dispersed population. Does it make sense for one of them to sit deep inside a college campus?
Something that’s convenient for one group is often inconvenient for another. Put a site in the middle of a campus student union and you’ve made voting easier for students who live within walking distance. But you may also make it harder for everyone else in the county who doesn’t know the campus, doesn’t feel welcome there, or simply needs parking that doesn’t require a scavenger hunt and a visitor pass.
In Jackson County, the alternative site is about a mile from campus. That is not ideal for every student, but it is also not the kind of distance that makes voting unrealistic.
Across the state, many of these decisions played out in a similar way. There are good arguments against all the changes — including in Jackson County — and it’s reasonable to debate whether a particular choice was wise. You can argue that a board got the balance wrong. But it is a stretch to treat each change as evidence of a coordinated conspiracy.
Smarter tweaks
North Carolina already offers early voting on a scale most states do not. Seventeen days is a long window and a major operational lift. I like early voting, and I use it every time. But when you stretch the calendar that far, counties have to be practical about what they can sustain.
About a quarter of counties operate only the single legally required early voting site, typically at the board of elections. Most of the rest have to be unsentimental about how much is reasonable to take on, especially in a low-turnout primary.
Every additional early voting site is a major investment. Staff has to be recruited, hired, and trained. And the same small group of civic-minded poll workers is aging out with no replacement wave behind them.
A smart legislative tweak would give county boards more flexibility. If a county can staff a site for five days but not for all 17, let them run it for five. That would expand access in targeted ways without forcing counties into commitments they cannot sustain.
County elections boards are small teams operating under intense scrutiny, trying to run a high-trust system with limited resources and constant political suspicion. Treating every disagreement as a war over voting rights only raises the temperature and makes routine decisions harder to manage.
If advocates want Sunday voting, they should argue for it with data. If they want a campus site, they should propose a location that works for the whole public, not only the people who already live on campus. In a high-trust system, reasoned arguments usually get you farther than moral panic.
At the same time, accountability has to run both ways. Election boards can’t deliver perfection, but they do owe the public an explanation. Lay out the constraints, describe the choices, and make the case for why the plan is fair and workable. People can disagree with the conclusion and still trust the process if leaders are willing to explain themselves candidly. When questions are met with sarcasm or dismissal, it invites the worst interpretations.
In elections, trust is the most important resource we have. We shouldn’t spend it like it’s unlimited.
Contributing columnist Andrew Dunn is the publisher of the Longleaf Politics newsletter, which offers thoughtful analysis of North Carolina politics and policy from a conservative perspective. He can be reached at andrew@longleafpol.com.