History, politics, people of Oly WA

Category: 2025 Elections

Confusion wins

This is a second blog post reflecting on some of the meta-lessons that came out of local elections in Thurston County this year.

The New York Times recently ran a story about how The Stranger sets the tone in Seattle politics. This is not breaking news for anyone who has watched Seattle politics for the last two decades.

The secret is simple: The Stranger shows up. It is consistently present, consistently relevant, and consistently part of the political conversation.

On a recent episode of The Olympia Standard, campaign consultant Rob Richards talked about the failure of the Workers’ Bill of Rights and how the yes campaign faced an uphill battle from the start. The opposition narrative was already circulating almost a year before the campaign really got rolling. And he’s right. The first public attention the idea got wasn’t from the campaign; it was from a flare-up of misinformation about a possible minimum wage increase more than a year earlier.

The campaign eventually launched with a petition drive last spring, but real messaging didn’t start until August. And in a town with fewer than half a dozen full-time local reporters, what earned media campaign can you realistically run? There simply aren’t enough people covering local government closely or consistently to help counter a false narrative once it takes hold.

We saw this same dynamic in the Regional Fire Authority vote a few years ago. The JOLT, in particular, published a lot of stories leading up to the election that, while not necessarily inaccurate, clearly shaped the public conversation. The RFA election became a turnout election. The precincts that voted “no” were the ones where people just didn’t vote at all. Many voters were confused, caught between the campaigns’ messaging and the churn of coverage and commentary on social media. Faced with confusion, they defaulted to the “safe” choice: not voting or voting no.

I’ve heard some fair criticism that JOLT’s model (reporters overseas watching meetings remotely and writing from the recordings) made it difficult to provide the broader context of why the RFA mattered. That coverage tended to highlight debate and points of disagreement, because that was what stood out in public meetings. Without interviews, on-the-ground sourcing, or deeper reporting, the coverage didn’t really capture the larger picture of why the RFA might be beneficial. That isn’t a slam on the reporters; they were doing the best they could with limited resources and time.

Could the cities or RFA supporters have engaged more with JOLT? Absolutely. But it’s also fair to say that the resulting coverage skewed toward highlighting the questions and the drama, not the underlying case for the proposal. That imbalance, born from limited capacity, not ill intent, helped create confusion.

And that’s the common thread between Proposition 1 and the RFA: a negative discussion, powered by limited local reporting and social media algorithms that amplify emotional scepticism, grew in the absence of steady, contextual information. Confusion became the common voter experience, and in low-turnout elections, confusion is fatal.

What we need is clarity.

I generally appreciate news coverage. I’m not someone who gets angry every time a reporter writes something that makes a campaign uncomfortable. But we have to be honest about something: in a community with shrinking traditional media, campaigns still spend money on mailers and consultants and ads. But aren’t investing in the thing that makes campaigns possible in the first place: local media.

There’s been a lot of talk about how much the Prop 1 campaign spent on signature collection and basic campaign work. But how can complex, structural policy changes succeed when there isn’t a consistent media presence helping the public understand them? A community cannot hold informed elections without informed voters, and voters don’t have the time or energy to attend every meeting, read through every governing document, or fact-check every post on Facebook. That’s what journalism is for.

Which brings us back to The Stranger. It is only one outlet in a city that still has a relatively healthy Seattle Times. KUOW spends a significant amount of airtime on Seattle politics. Smaller niche outlets like PubliCola and The Urbanist also contribute to the political conversation. But for capturing the mood and narrative arc of Seattle politics, The Stranger is uniquely powerful, not because it is perfectly neutral, but because it is present, consistent, and willing to frame debates with a point of view.

In Thurston County, with so few journalists, coverage is often reactive. Journalism focuses on the easiest available material: summaries of meetings, recaps of official statements, and the occasional story on a high-profile incident. There isn’t enough capacity for the proactive, explanatory reporting necessary to unpack something like a Workers Bill of Rights. And when a reporter tries to be fair in that environment, “balance” can easily look like “There’s a real debate here,” even when one side is working with a year-long head start fueled by fear, confusion, and online misinformation.

Without sustained reporting, balance becomes ambiguity. And ambiguity becomes a “No” vote.

The absence of robust journalism means our community lacks the civic infrastructure necessary for democratic decision-making. The cost of a policy failing, of housing going unaddressed, fire services going unfunded, worker protections never advancing, is far higher than the cost of supporting journalism that helps voters understand what’s at stake in the first place.

If campaigns can’t count on local media to provide that clarity, then some of that investment needs to shift. Local media is not optional. It is foundational civic infrastructure. Until we treat it that way, we will keep re-running the same story: big ideas, complex policies, passionate campaigns, and a confused electorate that never gets the chance to truly understand the choice.

All Politics Is Local, All Politics Is Complicated

It’s the Saturday after Election Day, and I’ve been thinking about why people don’t vote in local elections. The answer, I think, is baked right into how local politics works, and how we talk about it.

Earlier this week, KUOW aired a “Sound Politics” episode that tried to untangle one piece of that puzzle: why school board elections in Washington are so confusing. It was a fascinating conversation about how state law allows school districts to run elections differently, but it got tangled up in language, using “city” and “school district” as if they were the same thing.

In Seattle, for example, school board candidates must live in specific “director districts,” but every registered voter citywide gets to vote for all of them in the general election. This unusual system exists only because Seattle’s population tops 400,000, a threshold that triggers a special rule in state law. Smaller districts like Highline and Tacoma operate differently.

It’s a great civics lesson, but also a perfect example of how confusing our systems can be. One of my broader theories about elections is simple: if people don’t understand the choices in front of them, they often just don’t vote. When confusion is built into the very structure of our elections, turnout doesn’t just sag, it sinks.

What bothered me about the KUOW piece wasn’t the reporting, but the terminology. Mixing up “school district” and “city” only deepens the public’s misunderstanding. I’ve seen this confusion play out locally in Olympia, where the city, the school district, and the port district all share the same name but have completely different boundaries. In Seattle, it’s even more complicated: the school district’s governance depends on the city’s population, even though the two are technically separate entities.

This is a microcosm of a much larger problem: state law makes local government more complicated than it needs to be. And that complexity collides with how we communicate about elections, especially in odd-numbered years when only local offices are on the ballot.

Another Sound Politics episode this week encouraged listeners to send it to “procrastinating voters.” It was a nice idea. Except that, unless you lived in the 26th Legislative District, Seattle, or King County, only one segment of the show actually applied to you. Even within those areas, it covered just a fraction of what was on people’s ballots.

That’s not a dig at the reporters, though they might have oversold it a bit (“Send this to someone who hasn’t voted in Western Washington, or, you know, anywhere in Washington…”). The truth is, no local NPR station (even in Seattle) could possibly cover the hundreds of races happening across dozens of cities, school districts, and special districts.

Think of it this way: Bellevue, Kent, Renton, Federal Way, Kirkland, Redmond, and Auburn together have about the same population as Seattle. If election coverage were proportional, those cities together would get the same attention as Seattle. But they don’t. There are simply too many races, so coverage outside Seattle gets rounded down to zero. The result: even more focus on Seattle, even less on everyone else.

And as local print newspapers and radio newsrooms continue their slow decline, the information gap just keeps widening.

The biggest reason people don’t vote locally isn’t apathy (which would be an internal flaw) it’s confusion (caused externally). Don’t blame voters for not turning in ballots, blame the system we’ve created. The system is hard to understand, and the information needed to make sense of it is vanishing.

The Texting Election

This year, I’ve had more friends than ever ask why they’re being bombarded with campaign texts. The short answer: vote, and they’ll stop. If your name is not on a list of people who voted, the campaigns are going to keep on bugging you.

Anecdotally, it seems that local campaign texting is way up. It makes sense. Texting is personal and intrusive, but it’s also cheap. In a low-turnout year, every vote is precious, and traditional media reach is limited. When you’re voting for everyone from park commissioners to city council members, odds are you haven’t heard much about any of them through your normal news sources. So campaigns reach past the media and straight into your phone. It’s not elegant, but it’s effective.

What “All Politics Is Local” Really Means

All of a sudden, there is a popular saying now that “all politics is national.” It reflects how the presidency and federal politics loom over everything. That’s true, to a degree. Since the television era, local election turnout has steadily declined compared to national races.

But when Rep. Tip O’Neill said “all politics is local,” he wasn’t talking about turnout rates. He meant that good politics starts with understanding your community, and connecting those local needs to national decisions.

Rep. Marie Gluesenkamp Perez captured that spirit recently when she said she “just refused to let this race be nationalized. It’s not about the message. It’s about my loyalty to my community.” 

And if you zoom out and look at this week’s results from New Jersey, Virginia, and New York City, you can see that dynamic playing out. Each place faces the same national currents, but each community came up with its own answer.

Simplify the System, Raise the Turnout

If we want better turnout in Washington, we should start by making local government simpler. I don’t have a perfect fix, but I know that when voters look at their ballots and think, *“What the hell am I even voting for?”* those ballots are more likely to end up in the kitchen recycling bin.

All politics is local. But if we keep making “local” this complicated, we shouldn’t be surprised when fewer people show up to participate.

Digging Deeper Into the August Primary Results

After posting my first results map for the August Primary and releasing a discussion episode on The Olympia Standard, I wanted to take a closer look at a few things that stood out to me.

1. Lacey’s Parks Proposition: Where Did It Win?

I don’t talk about Lacey all that often, but the failure of the parks proposition caught my attention. The geography of support was interesting.

  • Panorama City, the retirement community that once dominated city politics, was very pro-parks.
  • Precincts around Wonderwood Park were also supportive, which makes sense—it’s a walkable neighborhood park that feels embedded in the community.
  • But near Rainier Vista Park, support wasn’t as strong. That also tracks. I can see how a park like that could feel like a nuisance to neighbors. My most vivid experience there? Having a neighbor yell at me for driving around the block looking for parking.
  • And then there’s the weird belt of pro-park precincts hugging I-5. These are newer neighborhoods. Maybe those residents are hoping for more parks to be built, like the Greg Cuoio Community Park, which is still undeveloped.

2. Simplifying the Results Maps – The “Left Lane” Candidates

While looking back at the maps I made earlier, I realized I could simplify things by categorizing results based on how many “left lane” candidates won in each precinct. These were the easiest to group together, Vanderpool, Gilman, and Geiger.

When you do that, some interesting patterns jump out:

  • The Southeast bubble is still very clear.
  • You can see far Westside outliers too that consistently lean conservative.
  • But Olympia 31, near LBA Park and deep inside the SE, voted for two left-side candidates. That suggests the SE line might now run along Henderson Road, rather than everything south of I-5. If so, that could mean the older neighborhoods west of the high school are shifting politically.
  • And then there’s Olympia 45 (around Lilly Road and Martin Way). It only voted for one left-side candidate. Why? If anyone has theories, I’d love to hear them.

3. Krag Unsoeld vs. the Countywide Map

On this week’s Olympia Standard podcast, Rob Richards explained why he doesn’t think Krag Unsoeld is likely to win in November, even though he had a strong August showing. The reasoning: Port Commission races are district-based in the primary but countywide in the general. Krag didn’t dominate enough in his left-leaning district to make up for the more centrist countywide electorate.

That’s a theory, but does the math back it up?

I went back to the 2023 Port races and built a precinct-by-precinct extrapolation, comparing left-leaning general election results with Krag’s 2025 in-district primary numbers. Even though left-side candidates swept the table in 2023, Krag’s numbers don’t project well.

By my estimate, he’d lose the general by about 8,000 votes, 42,000 to 34,000.

Five initial lessons from the August 2025 Primary

The Friday after Election Day is a pretty big day for me. That’s when the first round of precinct-level data is released. Using that data, I dive into the maps to see if there are any lessons to be learned.

Until I get to a couple of Olympia School District (OSD) races, I colored the maps in this post all the same way: for any candidate, blue indicates where they did better, and red shows where they did worse.

  1. Paul Berendt is probably fine.

I don’t expect his campaign to ease up, but the big risk he faced in how this election was set up didn’t materialize. Berendt definitely isn’t a right-leaning candidate in any broader sense beyond being an Olympian, but running against a DSA-endorsed progressive puts him on the right side of the scale here. Also, in my part of town, his signs have consistently been paired with candidates who would be classified as right-leaning, no matter how you slice it. The Maria Flores vs. Taluana Reed race shows how traditional left candidates, when paired against far-left candidates, can produce a map that highlights a base of support in more traditionally right-leaning areas of Olympia.

The risk is that the neighborhoods that show up in August don’t necessarily match those that turn out in November. A strong showing in August, generally in SE Olympia, can box a candidate in come November when other neighborhoods show up. So, what Berendt needed was support from a diverse range of neighborhoods, which, as we can see below, he achieved.

  1. Winning maps look similar.

Robert Vanderpool had a winning map very similar to Berendt’s, though arguably he was running in the same lane as Berendt’s opponent, Caleb Geiger. Is this the advantage of being on the council right now? There’s a slight west-side shift in Vanderpool’s map, likely reflecting the different lanes, but I want to chalk this up to how people in Olympia vote, which isn’t always the laundry list of issues campaigns highlight.

  1. Wendy Carlson’s long road to November.

The key to winning from the right or moderate side is to dominate the areas where you’ll be safe in November (SE Olympia and some far west-side precincts) and be competitive everywhere else. This was not the case for Carlson (or Justin Stang, for that matter). I’ve included Carlson’s map here to illustrate. While she did produce lighter reds throughout SE Olympia, these are places she would have wanted to lock down now so she could expand her support in November.

To be completely fair to Carlson, mapping the winning and losing precincts in a multi-candidate primary using this system isn’t super helpful if the candidate wasn’t in first. What I should do is just map where she got a plurality of the vote and go from there.

  1. Winning maps look the same Part 2: Renee Fullerton dominated, only losing in Rhyan Smith’s SE Olympia stronghold.

What was actually surprising in these races was that Jeremy Ruse also failed to advance out of the primary, but the map doesn’t help clarify why. Fullerton’s map is a classic August winner, taking nearly everything except SE Olympia—ironically where her district is centered. For some, this could be an argument in favor of district elections in school boards.

  1. The interesting race now shifts to the Olympia School District’s west-side contest, where Emily Leddige and Gil Lamont bested right-leaning candidate Ruse.

I did something different with their maps, shading for overall support instead of simply above or below 50 percent. The basic story is that Leddige seems to have a west-side shift compared to Lamont. I’m not sure what this means for electoral strategy, but Lamont is slightly ahead, so he might be better positioned to pick up whatever votes remain from Ruse.

Here is Leddige’s map:

And Lamont’s:

There are a few more things I want to do with this election’s precinct data. In addition to remapping Carlson’s race, I’m going to stretch out to Lacey and look at their Prop 1 parks vote that failed, and extrapolate the port data to see what I find there.

© 2025 Olympia Time

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑