Elections ask us to accept what we may bitterly oppose
As November’s midterms approach, there is a shadow hanging over these elections that's difficult to ignore. Many Americans are worried about more than who will win: They wonder if President Trump and his supporters will accept the results if Republicans lose.
That anxiety has a basis. Trump refused to accept his legitimate defeat in 2020. In January, FBI agents executing a search warrant seized ballots and other records from that election in Georgia’s Fulton County. This month, the Justice Department demanded that California officials withhold or segregate ballots from voters it identified as possible noncitizens pending verification. Election officials are preparing for possible challenges and interference as November approaches.
These concerns bring us back to a difficult question Americans have faced before: How do people accept defeat when they consider the other side’s victory intolerable?
American presidential elections have repeatedly produced conflicts over outcomes and legitimacy: 1800, 1824, 1860, 1876, 1916, 1960, 2000, 2004, and 2020 are all examples. Some involved disputed counts or constitutional procedures; others involved allegations of wrongdoing or rejection of an elected government’s authority. But having faced such conflicts before offers no guarantee that we will resolve the next one successfully.
Michigan’s own history of disputed elections
Michigan experienced the pressure of acknowledging an unwelcome result in 2020. The Wayne County canvassing board initially deadlocked over certification before reversing course. At the state level, Republican Aaron Van Langevelde ultimately joined the two Democratic canvassers in certifying the returns.
As Michigan Public reported, Van Langevelde explained that the board had a duty to certify the results before it. He did not need to approve of Joe Biden or change his political beliefs to fulfill that responsibility.
A less familiar Michigan dispute unfolded seventy years earlier. In 1950, Democratic Gov. G. Mennen “Soapy” Williams faced Republican former governor Harry Kelly in an exceptionally close election. Kelly initially appeared to have won, but the canvassed returns put Williams ahead.
An AP report, “Michigan Starts Ballot Recount,” describes the angry confrontation. The Republican-controlled canvassing board withheld certification pending a recount. Williams accused it of seeking to seize power. Republican Secretary of State Fred Alger accused Williams of being untruthful. Kelly eventually conceded.
The circumstances in that state election were different from 2020, including a genuine dispute over the sequence of certification and recounting. Still, officials can find themselves responsible for acknowledging a result their own party bitterly opposes. Procedures depend on people willing to carry them out when their own side may lose.
Losing without giving up
Accepting defeat does not require deciding your opponents are right. You can recognize their authority to hold office while considering their policies disastrous. You can protest, organize, challenge unlawful actions, and work to defeat them next time.
Political scientists call acceptance of an unwelcome outcome “losers’ consent.” Research collected in Losers’ Consent: Elections and Democratic Legitimacy examines how people respond to losing when they still have a say in government and there are limits on what winners can do. Defeat is more bearable when it leaves you with rights, a voice, and a political future.
Conversely, people who believe those things are threatened may feel they are being asked to accept their own exclusion from democracy. That fear can be powerful whether it arises from a real danger or a claim unsupported by evidence.
When defeat becomes theft
Political leaders can encourage supporters to accept defeat or give them reasons to keep rejecting it. After the Supreme Court decision that ended the 2000 contest, Al Gore said: “while I strongly disagree with the Court’s decision, I accept it.” He asked supporters to accept the outcome without agreeing with the Court.
Trump, on the other hand, offered his supporters a different explanation: victory had been stolen. A 2021 experiment found that exposure to his attacks on election legitimacy weakened electoral confidence among his supporters and increased beliefs that elections were rigged.
How can millions continue to believe the election was stolen without credible evidence of outcome-changing fraud? Interviews with election skeptics reveal deep distrust of news organizations and other authorities. For some, that distrust can turn evidence against itself. If you believe courts, election officials, and journalists participated in a deception, their rejection of fraud claims can look like the cover-up continuing: “Of course they say Biden won. They’re in on it.”
The belief can protect itself against information that should prompt reconsideration. And once defeat becomes theft, overturning the result can feel like defending democracy itself.
What leaders say before an election deserves attention, too. When Reuters recently asked Michigan’s Senate campaigns about accepting the outcome, Democrat Abdul El-Sayed committed to doing so. Republican Mike Rogers’s spokesperson answered: “This hypothetical is irrelevant because Mike will win on November 3rd.”
That does not establish that Rogers would reject defeat. It does leave the question unanswered: Will he accept it if he loses?
What democracy asks
For much of human history, ordinary people had little say in choosing their rulers, much less replacing them. Democracy asks something extraordinary from us that we sometimes underestimate: Government officials must surrender power when voters choose their opponents, and citizens have to accept that transfer even when they believe the country will suffer for it.
People don’t have to stop being angry or afraid. They can challenge results with evidence through lawful procedures. But they must also accept legitimate defeat. January 6 showed us what can happen when they refuse.
Michigan’s history, like the country’s, reminds us that this has never been effortless. Rules provide a way to resolve disputes, but people still have to live with the resolution. And certainty about what is best for the country, however deeply it is felt, does not give anyone the exclusive right to govern.
For all the founders’ faith in reason, democracy asks something that reason alone cannot deliver: the willingness to accept a defeat that feels unbearable.
