We combine newly collected election data with records of public denials of the results of the 2020 election to estimate the degree to which election-denying Republican candidates over- or underperformed other Republicans in 2022 in statewide and federal elections. We find that the average vote share of election-denying Republicans in statewide races was approximately 3.2 percentage points lower than their co-partisans after accounting for state-level partisanship. However, we find no such underperformance on aggregate for U.S. House elections, perhaps due to the more-partisan nature of many House districts. Together, the results suggest that the types of candidates in American elections who take more-extreme positions tend to underperform, but that these performance gaps are relatively small in the present, polarized political environment.

This article proposes a simple but powerful framework to measure political sophistication based on open-ended survey responses. Discursive sophistication uses automated text analysis methods to capture the complexity of individual attitude expression. I validate the approach by comparing it to conventional political knowledge metrics using different batteries of open-ended items across five surveys spanning four languages (total $ N\approx 35,000 $). The new measure casts doubt on the oft-cited gender gap in political knowledge: women might know fewer facts about institutions and elites, but they do not differ substantively in the sophistication of their expressed political attitudes.

The most notable point of difference between the English and continental administrative systems at the end of the eighteenth century was probably the relation which they bore to the judiciary. The English administrative system was characterized by its subjection to the control of the courts. The continental administrative system, as seen particularly in that of France, was marked by its freedom from judicial control.

The retention by each system' of its characteristic feature may have been due to the conscious desire to secure judicial control or administrative independence, as the case might be. And yet the origin of the difference between the two systems is hardly to be attributed to any well-defined theory of government, but rather to a course of political development of which the leaders of political thought were in all probability not fully conscious. Thus, in England, the jurisdiction of the courts, to whose exercise the judicial control was due, was developed at a time when no clear distinction was made between judicial and administrative authorities, when the royal courts occupied toward the chief of administration, the crown, a position similar to that of all other governmental authorities, when the judges were like other officers subject to the disciplinary power of the crown, which might remove them from office at any time and bring pressure to bear upon them to secure decisions favorable to the royal interests. The development of a wide jurisdiction in the courts, under such circumstances, did not involve a subjection of administrative action to a control exercised by bodies independent of the administration. For the crown could prevent the rendering of decisions unfavorable to its interests. The crown did not, therefore, try to limit the jurisdiction of the royal courts, but permitted them to exercise such powers as ultimately made them the highest and last instance of control over almost all governmental action.

A major theme in political literature since the nineteen fifties has been a “unitotalitarian” approach to the study of modern dictatorships. The principal totalitarian “isms”—Fascism, Nazism and Communism—have been viewed as examples of one common species, containing no doubt some variations and differences; but practically, or operationally, the divergencies have been thought considerably less important than the similarities. The emphasis has been heavily on the structure and methods underlying the exercise of political control by the “Leader” and the “Party.” In what is undoubtedly the outstanding modern study of the subject, Friedrich and Brzezinski have attempted to extrapolate predictive hypotheses from the common pattern of totalitarian dictatorship expressed in a familiar syndrome of six interrelated characteristics.

Like any important institutional change, the new French constitution owes its parentage to an established doctrinal tradition, the particular ideas and experiences of its authors, and the combination of immediate political circumstances. The complexity of this process in the summer of 1958 and the failure of the French government to publish the records of the drafting, make it difficult even a year later to describe the birth of the document. Yet the fact that the drafting closely followed a short though dangerous crise du régime, and that it was primarily the work of the new Ministry rather than a constituent assembly, presents a meager advantage to the student of the new constitution. For the haste with which General de Gaulle's government prepared the initial draft—while at the same time preoccupied with many other pressing matters— strongly suggests that the drafters simply cast into legal text the program of the familiar opposition movement, formed by the General over a decade before, specifically to accomplish constitutional reform.

On May 4, 1936, the Emperor Haile Selassie departed from Djibuti aboard the British cruiser Enterprise, en route to Geneva by way of Palestine and England. On May 5, the victorious legions of the Second Roman Empire, commanded by Marshal Pietro Badoglio, entered Addis Ababa after what appears to have been a week of looting and pillaging in the Ethiopian capital. A few hours later in Rome, Benito Mussolini thunderously declared to a hastily-summoned Adunata: “Ethiopia is Italian! Italian in fact, because occupied by our victorious armies; Italian in law, because with the gladiators of Rome, civilization triumphs over barbarity, justice over arbitrary cruelty.”

At the behest of its Duce, a grateful Italy surrendered itself, between May 5 and May 9, to the most riotous celebration in the annals of Fascism. To climax the memorable jubilee, Mussolini appeared on the balcony of the Palazzo Venezia, after consulting successively and rapidly with the Fascist Grand Council and the Council of Ministers in the late evening of May 9, to read to the second Adunata of the week the substantive provisions of a new royal decree-law. Therein (1) Ethiopia was declared to be under the full and complete sovereignty of Italy; (2) the assumption by the king of Italy of the additional title, emperor of Ethiopia, was proclaimed; and (3) announcement was made that Ethiopia would be governed in the future by a governor-general, with the title of viceroy of Ethiopia.

The Federal Trade Commission has been the object of more scholarly examination and critical discussion than any other administrative commission in the federal government. The statutory authority, the internal organization, and the administrative procedure of the Commission have all been studied. More specialized researches have thrown light on its regulation of competitive practices and its relations with the courts. Our purpose here is to view the Commission in its relations with business and with Congress and the President, in order to achieve some understanding of the political and economic factors that have influenced its activities.

Underlying both sets of relationships are the conflicts of economic groups and special interests which attempt to convert their force into political power when they touch the legislator or the President. The attempt here will be to explore some of these rather intangible aspects of the Commission's administrative experience.

The connection between public opinion and public policy is slighter in foreign affairs than in any other sphere of politics. In normal times, international relations have little palpable impact upon the life of the people, and are obscured by more vivid domestic issues until war or some sudden crisis throws a high light on their significance. Even since the Great War, although public realization of the importance of foreign affairs has begun to be aroused in the late belligerent countries—in England at any rate—direct contact between popular opinion and government action is still both sporadic and uncertain.

What is true of the British nation is almost equally true of its representative assembly. Parliament has but little power over foreign affairs. Some of the most momentous changes in the country's relations with other Powers have, in the present century, been accomplished without reference to the House of Commons, and often without even its knowledge. Like the people themselves, the people's representatives exercise only an inconsiderable control over that branch of public affairs which is at present of more vital concern than any other.

Most British foreign secretaries, indeed, regard their actions as matters of exclusively executive concern. A cabinet of twenty ministers, already overworked in their own departments, is not, however, a body which can conduct the country's foreign relations. On his own subject, the Foreign Secretary dominates his ministerial colleagues. Experience shows that he can avoid consultation with all the cabinet save two or three of the principal ministers.

Past voting turnout studies almost always have been static analyses. Usually they have described the relationship between participation rates and the demographic attributes, attitudes, and social experiences of members of the electorate. Since each such study ordinarily is based on a single cross-sectional survey or on statistics referring to the Election Day period alone, both turnout and its determinants are derived at the same point of time, only simultaneous correlations are possible, and the analyst cannot show how turnout is affected by temporally prior conditions.

The development of multi-wave panel interviews in modern social research permits the study of attitude change, decision-making, and action over time. By re-interviewing the same respondents at intervals, political sociologists already have discovered much about how voters decide their candidate choices during the course of an election campaign. A panel design permits such process analysis not only of candidate preference but also of turnout and non-voting.

One of the most difficult problems of modern political science is that of sovereignty. The commonly accepted theory contains many elements that seem to be in obvious contradiction to our ideals of democracy; some of them do not fit into the present-day conception of state and government, while others are plain remnants of feudalism and autocracy. One should keep in mind, however, that it is not only a purely theoretical problem closely associated with the general idea of the state, but that it is also an eminently practical one, as it necessarily involves the political question of limitations on the state's powers. Those limitations are of equal importance internally, in the relations between state and citizen, and externally, in the domain of international law.

As often happens in cases where political questions are involved, the theory of sovereignty has two extreme wings of proponents. On the one hand there are theorists who defend an all-powerful state and make of the idea of sovereignty the emblem and symbol of the all-powerful state authority. On the other hand, there have appeared recently many writers, who believe that dangers lurk in the views of the first-mentioned school and who are loath to admit that any power, state or personal, may be unlimited; they distrust the theory of sovereignty, because of its association with unlimited power; consequently, they deny the existence of sovereignty altogether, asserting that it has no place whatever in the modern theory of the state.

Students of Latin American political parties have long assumed a strong correlation between social class and party identification, yet this assumption has never been tested empirically in any of the Latin American nations. This is probably due in large part to the lack of reliable survey data; however, even the mass of aggregate voting data has seldom been analyzed systematically. As a result, most of what we know—or think we know—about voting behavior in Latin America is based upon the intuitive assumptions of North American scholars. “If I were a member of the Chilean middle class, I would probably vote for the Radicals or Christian Democrats, but on the other hand if I were quite wealthy I would probably vote for the Conservatives.”

Students of Argentine politics assume that the Conservative parties, always representing the interests of the nation's aristocracy, have received the bulk of their votes from the large landowners; that the interests of this group consistently have been opposed by the Radical parties who receive their electoral support from the urban middle classes; and that the more recently formed Peronist parties have championed the cause of, and been supported at the polls by, the industrial workers. It is the purpose of this article to test these assumptions, primarily through analysis of aggregate voting data, but also by examining the social backgrounds of party leaders and their actions while in power.

One of the more fertile sources of data for systematic comparative political studies is in the regional differences that abound within political systems. When such differences are large and politically significant, explaining them becomes intriguing and important, especially if their causes cannot be found in the more familiar classes of socioeconomic variables.

Our purpose here is to present a preliminary analysis of a widely discussed intrasystem political difference—that between Northern and Southern California. This regional split has received particularly wide attention since the 1964 Republican primary, when Senator Goldwater's landslide majority in the South overcame his resounding defeat in the San Francisco Bay Area and insured his presidential nomination. Attempts to explain this pronounced regional variation have generated propositions about the political consequences of those social and economic conditions thought to be characteristic of Southern California. Since that area's most striking feature is its continuous rapid growth and economic development, many writers have been led to speculate that anxieties resulting from such changes lead to ultraconservative political preferences. These propositions are of considerable interest to students of politics, since neither economic growth nor its presumed attitudinal consequence is unique to Southern California, nor, for that matter, to the United States. AVe will examine various explanations for California's regional variation, with special emphasis on propositions about economic growth. Our data are from the 1960 Census, 1964 and 1968 election returns, and a series of statewide sample surveys conducted during the 1964 campaigns.

The central problem of the administrative structure of government is that of defining administrative jurisdictions. It is only by carefully describing the spheres of activity of organization units and of their employees that responsibility for administrative errors can readily be located. If duties are clearly defined, and if the relations of particular units to other agencies are generally understood, offending units, together with their responsible personnel, may be called to task for failure to perform their assigned duties or for trespass on the spheres of others. The patency of these facts has led American students of federal administration to devote considerable attention to functional jurisdictions. During the past generation there have been a multitude of proposals for the reallocation of functions among the bureaus, departments, and independent establishments of the federal government. Intent upon these functional concerns, American students have denied or ignored the importance of the territorial definition of jurisdictions.

The purpose of this paper is to make plain two facts: first, that the essential qualities of American federal organization were largely the product of the practices of the old British empire as it existed before 1764; second, that the discussions of the generation from the French and Indian war to the adoption of the federal Constitution, and, more particularly, the discussions in the ten or twelve years before independence, were over the problem of imperial organization. The center of this problem was the difficulty of recognizing federalism; and, though there was great difficulty in grasping the principle, the idea of federalism went over from the old empire, through discussion into the Constitution of the United States. By federalism is meant, of course, that system of political order in which powers of government are separated and distinguished and in which these powers are distributed among governments, each government having its quota of authority and each its distinct sphere of activity.

We all remember very well that, until about thirty years ago, it was common to think of the United States Constitution as if it were “stricken off in a given time by the brain and purpose of man.” About that time there began a careful study of the background of constitutional provisions and especially of the specific make-up of the institutions provided for by the instrument.