Al Franken, Tim-Walz

Jonathan Bernstein, Tribune News Service

Minnesota this month became the latest state to restore voting rights to ex-felons once they are released from prison. Democrats around the US have been pushing to reduce or eliminate restrictions on voting, in particular fighting to extend voting rights to people on parole or probation. Many Republicans have been pushing back, arguing that rights shouldn’t be restored until all the terms of a sentence have been fulfilled, and perhaps not even then.

Some Republicans also might worry that expanding the voter pool will cost them at the polls. It turns out that any potential effects on election outcomes is small. But disenfranchising ex-felons is indefensible in a democracy.

Current law is a patchwork of state preferences. Vermont, Maine and the District of Columbia allow imprisoned felons to vote. Virginia and Kentucky impose a lifetime ban on anyone ever convicted of a felony. The other 46 states have a variety of policies, ranging from restoring voting rights as soon as people are out of prison to bans that can be overturned on a case-by-case basis. While the share of states blocking post-release felons from voting has been declining, Republicans have generally opposed these changes.

Yet a close look at the numbers suggests there isn’t much for them to fear. Take the Minnesota law, which Governor Tim Walz, a Democrat, has said he will sign. It would restore voting rights to about 50,000 people currently on parole or probation. That might sound like a lot, but nationally about two-thirds of those eligible actually voted in the 2020 presidential election. If all of those 50,000 people registered to vote and then turned out at the same rate as the rest of the population, the actual number of new voters would be closer to 30,000.

What percentage would vote for Democrats? Certainly not 100%, and their electoral clout as a group diminishes rapidly if they split their votes; if only 75% vote for Democrats — still a high estimate — then the party gains only 15,000 votes. The last time a presidential election in Minnesota was that close was in 1916, when the state’s population was a lot smaller. Also, it is far from clear that Democrats would benefit at all, given that many felons are white men without college educations, a group that increasingly supports Republican candidates.

Moreover, academic research suggests that turnout among former felons would be lower than the already-low U.S. average and possibly only in the single digits. A separate study by journalists at the Marshall Project after the 2020 election found that in four states, fewer than a quarter of newly enfranchised ex-felons even registered to vote. In Minnesota, 20% turnout would mean only 10,000 new votes, and if they break 3-to-1 for Democrats then the party’s candidates would gain just 5,000 votes in a statewide election such as the 2020 presidential contest in which more than three million Minnesotans voted.

It’s possible for elections to be that close: In 2008, Al Franken beat Norm Coleman for a US Senate seat in Minnesota by only 312 votes. But outcomes that narrow are rare.

Regardless of which party benefits, the policy can’t be justified in a democracy. The reason is simple: Elected officials pay more attention to voters, and when people are denied the right to vote their preferences and interests won’t be attended to.

Sure, elected officials care most about their strongest supporters, followed by anyone who votes for them. But as political scientist Richard Fenno explained long ago, most politicians take seriously the idea that they represent everyone in their district. Congress took up civil rights legislation after Black citizens moved north and west, where they were able to vote, and politicians from those states started paying attention to the concerns of those voters.