What Happens if the Electoral College Ties?

Joe Raedle/Getty Images
Joe Raedle/Getty Images

If there is a tie in the Electoral College, the race for president gets sent to the House of Representatives, where the top three candidates are decided by each state’s delegation as a statewide block. As a state, the representatives decide on a candidate to vote for and, after much politicking, one candidate eventually gets a majority of states and becomes president. For vice presidents it’s a little simpler: it’s only the top two candidates, each senator gets a vote, and whoever gets the majority of Senate votes wins.

Now that that’s been dealt with, how did we get to this odd scenario? And are there any ways that it can be made odder?

A LITTLE BACKGROUND

First, as a matter of clarification, the result in November is just a guideline; the real action is in December, when the Electoral College votes. While it would be a political crisis if the Electoral College completely disregarded the will of the people, it’s not impossible. Only around half of the states plus Washington, D.C. have laws that explicitly say an elector has to vote for their state’s winning candidate. And among those states the laws vary wildly.

In North Carolina, for example, failure to vote for the correct candidate results in a $500 fine and the elector is automatically removed, doesn’t have a vote recorded, and a new elector is put in place. In New Mexico, it’s a fourth-degree felony for an elector to vote for a different candidate, but there’s no provision for canceling the vote. And Ohio just has it as a vague "it’s illegal." The Supreme Court has never ruled on the constitutionality of these restrictions, as it has never really mattered and electors tend to be party faithful anyway. But for the following scenarios, it’s important to keep in mind:

Our current system is the result of the 12th Amendment, which grew out of the disastrous election of 1800. Article II of the Constitution says that each elector needs to cast two votes and the candidate with the most electoral votes wins, while second place gets the vice presidency. In 1800, the Federalist Adams/Pinckney ticket was up against the Democratic-Republicans’ Jefferson/Burr. The Federalists recognized the inherent problem with the then-current rules and gave one electoral vote to John Jay (who wasn’t even a candidate), so that Adams would have one more vote than Pinckney. However, the victorious Democratic-Republicans messed that part up and gave Jefferson and Burr the same number of votes, sending it to the House to decide which one of them would be president.

Thirty-six ballots and a truly ridiculous amount of politicking later, Jefferson was finally elected president and Burr vice president. But the flaws in the Constitution were beginning to show, and the 12th Amendment was ratified just in time for the next presidential election. The 12th Amendment changed it so that electors voted for a president and a vice president, as opposed to two presidential ballots. It also created the modern rules for tie-breaking.

WHAT HISTORY CAN TELL US

In the entire history of the country, the Electoral College has only failed to come to an agreement twice, once for president and once for vice president. Weirdly however, they were in two different elections.

The 1836 election pitted Martin Van Buren against a supergroup of Whig opponents specially picked to appeal to specific regions. The plan was to prevent Van Buren from getting a majority in any region so that the House would make the decision. It didn’t work and Van Buren won; but when it came time to count the electoral votes, Van Buren’s running mate, Richard Johnson, was one vote short of a majority. The entire Virginia delegation had cast their presidential votes for Van Buren and their vice presidential ballots for a different candidate. The election went to the Senate, which picked Johnson in a party line vote.

In 1824, Andrew Jackson won a plurality in both the popular vote and the Electoral College, but not a majority. When it got to the House, they chose second place John Quincy Adams to be president. Accusations immediately started flying that Adams had secured the support of Speaker of the House Henry Clay, who had come in fourth in the race and was thus ineligible to be chosen, in exchange for an appointment as Secretary of State. As for the vice presidency? John Calhoun has been described by one historian as “everybody’s second choice” and won Electoral College votes from all sides of the political spectrum, dominating his vice presidential opponents.

WHAT IF THERE’S NO TIE ON ELECTION DAY?

Waking up on Wednesday morning, the newspapers blare "We have a winner!" But that’s not the end of the story.

After the contentious 2000 election, with Bush sitting on 271 electoral votes and Gore with 267, there were reports and conspiracy theories of Gore and Democrat consultants trying to flip three electors (for their part, the Gore campaign disavowed the endeavor). This didn’t happen (and actually one Gore elector abstained, giving Gore 266 votes), but the fact that it was even tossed around as an idea shows that the Electoral College could in theory make up their own minds regardless of the actual results.

In 1988, it was George H.W. Bush vs. Michael Dukakis and his running mate Lloyd Bentsen. Bush won in a landslide, but one elector flipped their ballot and voted Bentsen president and Dukakis vice president, giving Bentsen one electoral vote for president (the elector, Margarette Leach of West Virginia, did it to protest the Electoral College).

It was inconsequential because the vote was a landslide. But what if it wasn’t and the election was tied?

The Constitution says “if no person [has an electoral majority], then from the persons having the highest numbers not exceeding three on the list of those voted for as president” shall the House pick the president. In a no-Electoral College-majority election, the Dukakis-Bentsen flip would have resulted in the House choosing between the top three presidential electoral vote getters—Bush, Dukakis, and Bentsen. In that case, it wouldn’t be impossible for the House to decide Bentsen as winner. And although constitutional scholars doubt whether the system would allow such a scenario to take place, Bentsen could in theory also be a vice presidential candidate (the 12th Amendment has the Senate pick between the top two vice presidential vote-getters, so Dukakis would be out).

The Electoral College doesn’t need to go down the route of people anyone has actually “voted for”’ either. In 1972, one elector cast a vote for the Libertarians, despite them only getting 3674 popular votes in the entire country. But at least they were running for president. In 1976, the two main candidates were Gerald Ford and Jimmy Carter, with Bob Dole and Walter Mondale as the respective VPs. Carter/Mondale walked away from election night the winners with 297 electoral votes to Ford/Dole’s 241. But after the Electoral College met, Ford only got 240. This wasn’t a repeat of Gore’s missing electoral vote or the Dukakis flip—Dole still got 241.

One Washington state (which Ford won) elector voted Ronald Reagan for president, Dole for vice president (Reagan would later tell the elector, Mike Padden, “Boy, we sure gave 'em a go in '76. It came so close”), which illustrates that the Electoral College can pick anyone. And the Bentsen elector actually said, “If 270 women got together on the Electoral College we could have had a woman president.”

What Exactly is Christmas Tree Flocking?

iStock.com/Spiderstock
iStock.com/Spiderstock

Of the many curious holiday traditions (figgy pudding? wassailing?), one of the oddest has to be spraying down small trees with a mixture of adhesive and cellulose fibers to satisfy our longing for a white Christmas.

That’s what’s happening when you adorn a tree with artificial snow, otherwise known as flocking. And yet, when decorated and lit up, there’s something beautiful and warmly nostalgic about a well-flocked Christmas tree. Here’s how professionals manufacture this Christmas miracle.  

The History of Flocking

We’ve been trying to get that snowy look on Christmas trees for longer than you might think, dating back to the 1800s using substances like flour or cotton. A 1929 issue of Popular Mechanics recommended varnish, corn starch, and flakes of the silicate mineral mica. 

But tree flocking as we know it really caught on in the late 1950s and 1960s, along with aluminum trees and other glitzy (if not natural-looking) decor of the post-war boom. General Mills marketed Sno-Flok home kits, to be applied using a gun that attached to a vacuum cleaner.

Such home kits are not so popular these days, says Tom Leonard, owner of Peak Seasons, one of the country's largest manufacturers of Christmas tree lots supplies and tree flock. Flocking itself, however, has retained a level of appeal. “Sunbelt states use a lot of it because there’s no snow there,” Leonard tells Mental Floss. “It’s tremendously popular. The West Coast, the South, and the Southeast, the vast majority of it is sold in those zones.”

The Science of Flocking

So what exactly is flocking? At its core, flocking means attaching tiny fibers to a surface to create texture (the process is also used in fashion, home decor, and crafts). The Peak Seasons recipe includes paper pulp as fiber, corn starch as adhesive, and boron as a flame retardant—there’s a safety benefit to flocking.

And the company makes a lot of it. Leonard says they're the largest manufacturer of flock in the United States and Europe. “I don’t want to share [how much], but we sell lots of flock. I mean truckloads and truckloads.”

Based in sunny Riverside, California, Peak Seasons starts with paper and a grinder. “It’s like a big roll of toilet paper and it weighs a ton and you feed it into a machine and it comes out a powder,” Leonard says. The exception is certain bright colors—flock comes in white, black, pink, ice blue, royal blue, red, green, gold, and purple—which require cotton fibers instead of paper to hold the dye. The final product is almost like baby powder, shipped all over the country in large, cement-bag-sized bags.

From there you need to affix the stuff in a nice even coat, which is where flock machines like the Mighty Sno-Blower come in. They’re basically big tanks that hold varying amounts of flock depending on the model, plus a mechanism at the bottom to fluff up the powder. The machine then pumps the powder through a hose, and a gun at the end mixes it with a mist of water.

And that’s how flock is born.

The Art of Flocking

You don’t have to go with a professional flocker, or even use manufactured flock. There are all sorts of DIY recipes that include things like soap flakes or even desiccated coconut flakes. But if you do go pro, you want to be in the hands of someone like Paul Iantosca, who has been flocking trees in the Boston area for 20 years.

Flocking one tree in bright purple (white is still most popular), Iantosca first sprays it down with water. Then, in an area closed off with plastic sheeting, he fires up the blower and blasts the tree evenly with what looks like a purple fog. The stuff gets everywhere. He wears a mask to keep it out of his nose, but some high-volume flockers wear full protective coveralls. 

The tricky part to flocking is that you can’t tell if you got it right until it dries. When it goes on, it’s cold and wet like paste. But as it dries, the Christmas magic kicks in and it puffs up, turning into fluffy white (or, in this case, purple) fuzz firmly affixed to the needles.

There are, of course, pitfalls. Not enough water, and the flocking falls off and makes a huge mess. A flocked tree can’t get wet a second time. “It won’t dry again. It’s disgusting actually,” Iantosca says. Also, when you flock a tree, the color highlights its flaws. A janky tree turns into a weird, uneven shrub.

But if you get it right and string it up with lights, you’ve got a real stunner on your hands. Iantosca’s had flocked trees for his own home for the past 10 years and his kids won’t let him go back.

“When you plug that thing in, it absolutely glows inside," he says. "It’s unbelievable.”

Have you got a Big Question you'd like us to answer? If so, let us know by emailing us at bigquestions@mentalfloss.com.

Why Do Fruitcakes Last So Long?

iStock
iStock

Fruitcake is a shelf-stable food unlike any other. One Ohio family has kept the same fruitcake uneaten (except for periodic taste tests) since it was baked in 1878. In Antarctica, a century-old fruitcake discovered in artifacts left by explorer Robert Falcon Scott’s 1910 expedition remains “almost edible,” according to the researchers who found it. So what is it that makes fruitcake so freakishly hardy?

It comes down to the ingredients. Fruitcake is notoriously dense. Unlike almost any other cake, it’s packed chock-full of already-preserved foods, like dried and candied nuts and fruit. All those dry ingredients don’t give microorganisms enough moisture to reproduce, as Ben Chapman, a food safety specialist at North Carolina State University, explained in 2014. That keeps bacteria from developing on the cake.

Oh, and the booze helps. A good fruitcake involves plenty of alcohol to help it stay shelf-stable for years on end. Immediately after a fruitcake cools, most bakers will wrap it in a cheesecloth soaked in liquor and store it in an airtight container. This keeps mold and yeast from developing on the surface. It also keeps the cake deliciously moist.

In fact, fruitcakes aren’t just capable of surviving unspoiled for months on end; some people contend they’re better that way. Fruitcake fans swear by the aging process, letting their cakes sit for months or even years at a stretch. Like what happens to a wine with age, this allows the tannins in the fruit to mellow, according to the Wisconsin bakery Swiss Colony, which has been selling fruitcakes since the 1960s. As it ages, it becomes even more flavorful, bringing out complex notes that a young fruitcake (or wine) lacks.

If you want your fruitcake to age gracefully, you’ll have to give it a little more hooch every once in a while. If you’re keeping it on the counter in advance of a holiday feast a few weeks away, the King Arthur Flour Company recommends unwrapping it and brushing it with whatever alcohol you’ve chosen (brandy and rum are popular choices) every few days. This is called “feeding” the cake, and should happen every week or so.

The aging process is built into our traditions around fruitcakes. In Great Britain, one wedding tradition calls for the bride and groom to save the top tier of a three-tier fruitcake to eat until the christening of the couple’s first child—presumably at least a year later, if not more.

Though true fruitcake aficionados argue over exactly how long you should be marinating your fruitcake in the fridge, The Spruce says that “it's generally recommended that soaked fruitcake should be consumed within two years.” Which isn't to say that the cake couldn’t last longer, as our century-old Antarctic fruitcake proves. Honestly, it would probably taste OK if you let it sit in brandy for a few days.

Have you got a Big Question you'd like us to answer? If so, let us know by emailing us at bigquestions@mentalfloss.com.

SECTIONS

arrow
LIVE SMARTER