When the presidential election takes place Dec. 13 -- yes, that is when the Electoral College meets to cast the ballots that truly matter -- Richie Robb could well be the most watched man in the room. He is an undecided voter nobody thought to poll.
The mayor of South Charleston, W.Va., an eight-term wonder who survives as a Republican in a state swarming with Democrats, Robb has placed himself squarely between history and hysteria. Chosen as an elector pledged to George W. Bush, he is threatening to withhold his vote should his candidate carry West Virginia.
The rabble may gather at church halls and school cafeterias Nov. 2, but a close reading of the ballot will show that they are, in truth, voting for a slate of electors pledged to that candidate. The electors meet a month later, cast their votes and go home. The intricacies of the system have four times given us presidents who came in second in the popular balloting. For the most part, the Electoral College has reflected popular sentiment.
Then there are the 156 people known as the "Faithless Electors." These are folk who, for reasons ranging from confusion to sheer orneriness, have cast their votes for a candidate other than the one the people in their state preferred.
"The U.S. Constitution leaves specifics to the states," Robb said. "It appears to me at best an elector has qualified discretion, which means to me you're not absolutely committed. But there's certainly an implied commitment to whoever carries your state."
In Robb's book, discretion trumps implication.
Robb is upset by Bush's tax policies (too hard on the middle class, he says) and Bush's war in Iraq (too hard on American credibility, he says) and thinks switching his vote or abstaining might be a great way to send this message.
Only 14 states have laws to penalize electors who don't vote the way they're pledged. Penalties range from immediate removal and replacement to a $1,000 fine. But West Virginia and 35 other states, Pennsylvania, New York and Texas among them, have no requirement. You might be voting for George W. Bush's electors Nov. 2, but that doesn't mean his electors are.
"I'm taking far more interest in this presidential election, to try to understand why the Bush administration is doing what they're doing and trying to reconcile it with my own views in life," Robb said.
This is a hell of a time for a man pledged to support a candidate to begin his deliberations on who should get his vote, but West Virginia's Republican leaders might have thought to solicit Robb's thoughts before appointing him.
Robb has long been a critic of U.S. policy in the Middle East. He made no secret of his displeasure over Iraq. His populist message should have told leaders that he didn't like Bush's tax policy. Possibly no one imagined he might do something about it.
He became an elector at the state party's convention, when a slate of five Bush electors was chosen.
"Somebody goes by me and says, 'Hey! You're a presidential elector!' I said, 'That's nice.' " Nobody bothered to make sure he'd vote for Bush.
"Mine's not even a defection," he said.
A few weeks later, Robb was at a Labor Day rally in Charleston. Jesse Jackson was there. Cecil Roberts, president of the United Mine Workers, was there. Hard, hard words were spoken about the president and it occurred to somebody that Robb might be wavering.
A reporter asked if he might not vote for Bush in the Electoral College.
"I said, 'Gosh, I don't know,' " Robb said. His answers have run from "in all probability I'll vote for him" to "I might just withhold my vote" to "I can't make any guarantees."
If he wanders off the constitutional script, Robb will at least have company in the record book.
Margarette Leach, a nurse from Huntington, W.Va., was a Democratic elector 16 years ago. When a doctor at her hospital joked with her about voting for someone else, she was amazed to find out that state law didn't bind her to Michael Dukakis. She sent out a message to other members of the West Virginia contingent, urging them to join her in a protest vote to call attention to a system she considered flawed beyond redemption. Finally, she cast a lone, twisted vote: Michael Dukakis, the Democratic presidential candidate, got her vote for vice president. Running mate Lloyd Bentsen got her vote for president. She later wrote to each man to apologize for any embarrassment she might have caused. Bentsen wrote back and said he was flattered.
Others failed to see the charm in this protest.
"A couple people made snide remarks," she said. "Nobody in an official capacity ever said anything to me."
Leach is now a member of the West Virginia Legislature, a place in which the mischief she pointed out 16 years ago, and which Richie Robb threatens to repeat two months from now, could be resolved.
The larger question, of course, is whether we still need an Electoral College. The system has four times given us presidents who did not win the popular vote. The real electorate is, in the final analysis, a group of people chosen by two political parties to serve in an institution that was set up, in part, because the Founders wanted to avoid the fractiousness of political parties. Instead, it evolved into a strange hybrid.
One day, maybe, we'll catch up to it and switch to direct election of the president. Until then, we have a system perfectly designed for mischief. Margarette Leach made this clear.
"I've been toying with the idea of going to visit Richie Robb," she said. "I'm a red-hot Democrat. I'd go to encourage him not to vote for Bush."