It's anybody's game
A great many bold, definitive statements have been made in the wake of last weekend's Liberal leadership vote, so let me add a bold, definitive statement of my own: Nobody knows. Nobody knows how this thing will play out. Are you kidding? This is game theory with eight players.
To be sure, Michael Ignatieff starts the game at a decided advantage: with between 30% and 35% of the vote on the first ballot (counting ex officio delegates), he can gain the needed 50% threshold with the support of just one of the other three leading candidates, with perhaps one of the other four for good measure.
(A caveat here, and throughout: It's unlikely a candidate will be able to keep all of his delegates with him as he crosses the floor. But as it is unclear whom this favours, it's as good a working assumption as any.)
The three runners-up -- Bob Rae, Stephane Dion and Gerard Kennedy -- are in a correspondingly weaker position: with 15% to 20% of the first-ballot vote apiece, each can win only with the support of the other two. So the question that must be answered, before all, is this: Is there a basis on which these three candidates can coalesce? Can one of the three rally the other two to his side? If not, there is no point in continuing: Mr. Ignatieff's eventual victory is assured.
But if so, then they had better agree amongst themselves that that is the case -- that is, the first thing they have to establish is that the three of them will stick together, come what may. Only if it is first agreed that one of the three will be leader is there any point in deciding which of the three it will be.
Such an anti-Ignatieff pact will not be easy to maintain. Mr. Ignatieff will be trying hard to peel off one or another of the three -- it's doubtful he can win without at least one -- with the usual mix of bribes and threats. The closer he gets to a majority, the greater the temptation will be to break ranks.
Moreover, even a solid Anybody But Iggy coalition risks being undone by internal rivalries. To succeed, they will have to establish some distance between Mr. Ignatieff and themselves -- if not by personal attacks alone, then with the help of some wedge issue. (Mr. Ignatieff's strategy, conversely, must be to hug the other three as close to him as possible: hence his post-weekend calls for "civility.")
But the candidate who takes the lead in opening up such a gap between Mr. Ignatieff and the others risks creating room for one of his erstwhile allies to step in between them at the last minute, as the "compromise" candidate. So the temptation for each will be to hang back, and let the others do the dirty work.
(Worse, even if they fail to topple Mr. Ignatieff, there are benefits for coming second: The winner often feels compelled to reward his nearest rival with a plum assignment, in the interests of party unity. The third- and fourth-place candidates, on the other hand, generally end up out in the cold -- a point Mr. Ignatieff's emissaries will be sure to impress upon them.)
This is a classic "prisoner's dilemma": Were the three men to co-ordinate their strategies, they could be reasonably assured of a successful outcome. But as each of them has his own individual agenda, co-ordination is problematic.
Problematic, but not impossible. Mr. Ignatieff has himself contributed mightily to the formation of an ABI front by his ill-advised constitutional proposals -- a wedge issue if ever there was one, especially among Liberals. And the smaller fish, contrary to conventional wisdom, may yet find themselves with a pivotal role to play.
To listen to the media, the bottom half of the field should just pack it in now. But why would they? They've already been through the humiliating part. From now on, it's all upside. Not only do they get to speak at the convention, but they can spend the intervening two months entertaining bids for their support from the four leading candidates.
Let's assume their primary motivation is to be on the winning side. It's all very well for each to throw in his or her lot with Mr. Ignatieff, but there's no guarantee he will win even then. On the other hand, their support may be enough to sort out the order of finish amongst the next three -- who will be the kingmakers, and who the king -- and hence to induce them to co-operate.
Of course, the trailing candidates face their own version of the prisoner's dilemma. If all four wait until the convention to show their hand, each maximizes his negotiating position. But if one or more of them break before then, in a way that proves decisive, the others may find their votes are no longer needed.
It's impossible to predict, however. Suppose Scott Brison throws his support to Mr. Ignatieff. It looks good for Mr. Ignatieff, he's got the momentum -- until Ken Dryden crosses over to Stephane Dion's camp. That puts Mr. Dion out in front of Mr. Kennedy, who follows Mr. Dryden's suit, vaulting Mr. Dion ahead of Mr. Rae, who makes the final, fateful decision ...
To be sure, Michael Ignatieff starts the game at a decided advantage: with between 30% and 35% of the vote on the first ballot (counting ex officio delegates), he can gain the needed 50% threshold with the support of just one of the other three leading candidates, with perhaps one of the other four for good measure.
(A caveat here, and throughout: It's unlikely a candidate will be able to keep all of his delegates with him as he crosses the floor. But as it is unclear whom this favours, it's as good a working assumption as any.)
The three runners-up -- Bob Rae, Stephane Dion and Gerard Kennedy -- are in a correspondingly weaker position: with 15% to 20% of the first-ballot vote apiece, each can win only with the support of the other two. So the question that must be answered, before all, is this: Is there a basis on which these three candidates can coalesce? Can one of the three rally the other two to his side? If not, there is no point in continuing: Mr. Ignatieff's eventual victory is assured.
But if so, then they had better agree amongst themselves that that is the case -- that is, the first thing they have to establish is that the three of them will stick together, come what may. Only if it is first agreed that one of the three will be leader is there any point in deciding which of the three it will be.
Such an anti-Ignatieff pact will not be easy to maintain. Mr. Ignatieff will be trying hard to peel off one or another of the three -- it's doubtful he can win without at least one -- with the usual mix of bribes and threats. The closer he gets to a majority, the greater the temptation will be to break ranks.
Moreover, even a solid Anybody But Iggy coalition risks being undone by internal rivalries. To succeed, they will have to establish some distance between Mr. Ignatieff and themselves -- if not by personal attacks alone, then with the help of some wedge issue. (Mr. Ignatieff's strategy, conversely, must be to hug the other three as close to him as possible: hence his post-weekend calls for "civility.")
But the candidate who takes the lead in opening up such a gap between Mr. Ignatieff and the others risks creating room for one of his erstwhile allies to step in between them at the last minute, as the "compromise" candidate. So the temptation for each will be to hang back, and let the others do the dirty work.
(Worse, even if they fail to topple Mr. Ignatieff, there are benefits for coming second: The winner often feels compelled to reward his nearest rival with a plum assignment, in the interests of party unity. The third- and fourth-place candidates, on the other hand, generally end up out in the cold -- a point Mr. Ignatieff's emissaries will be sure to impress upon them.)
This is a classic "prisoner's dilemma": Were the three men to co-ordinate their strategies, they could be reasonably assured of a successful outcome. But as each of them has his own individual agenda, co-ordination is problematic.
Problematic, but not impossible. Mr. Ignatieff has himself contributed mightily to the formation of an ABI front by his ill-advised constitutional proposals -- a wedge issue if ever there was one, especially among Liberals. And the smaller fish, contrary to conventional wisdom, may yet find themselves with a pivotal role to play.
To listen to the media, the bottom half of the field should just pack it in now. But why would they? They've already been through the humiliating part. From now on, it's all upside. Not only do they get to speak at the convention, but they can spend the intervening two months entertaining bids for their support from the four leading candidates.
Let's assume their primary motivation is to be on the winning side. It's all very well for each to throw in his or her lot with Mr. Ignatieff, but there's no guarantee he will win even then. On the other hand, their support may be enough to sort out the order of finish amongst the next three -- who will be the kingmakers, and who the king -- and hence to induce them to co-operate.
Of course, the trailing candidates face their own version of the prisoner's dilemma. If all four wait until the convention to show their hand, each maximizes his negotiating position. But if one or more of them break before then, in a way that proves decisive, the others may find their votes are no longer needed.
It's impossible to predict, however. Suppose Scott Brison throws his support to Mr. Ignatieff. It looks good for Mr. Ignatieff, he's got the momentum -- until Ken Dryden crosses over to Stephane Dion's camp. That puts Mr. Dion out in front of Mr. Kennedy, who follows Mr. Dryden's suit, vaulting Mr. Dion ahead of Mr. Rae, who makes the final, fateful decision ...
10/04/2006
