Machine Politics '06: Paperless Ballots That Generate a Lot of Ink

The interested parties are crammed into Room 315 of the Fairfax County Government Center. It's a sprawling structure with lots of glass and big atriums and spacious offices, but somehow all the action -- all the clerical drama -- has been concentrated in this one little space. There are 12 rectangular tables, each with a pair of election workers and, standing right behind them, a pair of partisans, one Democrat and one Republican, all of them staring at pieces of paper, and envelopes, and tally sheets, and checklists, and Statements of Results.

What doesn't fit on the tables is placed on the floor. The scene is one great paperwork fandango. The routine canvassing of the county's votes started yesterday morning and, despite a furious pace, won't likely end until tomorrow.

The Republicans are easily identified: They're the ones looking tense, talking on cellphones, conferring in hallways.

"They're looking real serious," said Democrat Gary Allen. "You understand why."

He was speaking yesterday afternoon, when Democrat Jim Webb held a lead of about 7,000 votes over Republican incumbent senator, George Allen. The outcome of the Virginia race could determine which party controls the U.S. Senate. This has potential to be another Florida Recount situation, though an initial canvassing of the canvassing turned up no sign of a botched vote. Given the stakes, Room 315 was fairly calm, if not exactly serene.

"No fights have broken out. Everyone's very civil," said Judy Flaig, the county's election manager.

You might ask: Where are the votes? You know, the ballots ? It is an antiquated question, like asking directions to the nearest smithy or cooper or farrier. The votes are in many forms. Some electronic voting machines produce a record in the form of a paper tape, much like a cash register receipt, which is stapled to the Statement of Results from each precinct.

There are also USB flash drives, the little computer doohickeys not even as big as a Pez dispenser. These come from the WINvote electronic voting machines, and are kept in large white envelopes marked 7B and packed into a cardboard box that, as of 3 p.m. yesterday, was sitting on the floor of Room 317.2 ("Work Room," said the sign by the door).

Flaig has one of the only keys to the deadbolted room, and it was last seen in her left pocket after she gave a reporter a brief tour. The room is sealed with tape at night.

There is yet another redundancy, she said: The machines record an image of each ballot, which can be printed out if necessary. But she hopes it won't be necessary, as she has enough paperwork on her hands as it is.

"I estimated it would be 53 miles of paper for Fairfax County if we had to print every ballot," she said. "We're concerned that would be one more thing to argue about, and we'd have a Florida every time we voted."

Voting is the noblest endeavor in a democracy, but rather eccentric in practice. This is why Election Day never ends anymore. There must be recounts. There must be hardball lawyering. There must be suspicion of fraud, of voter intimidation, of ballot tampering, and every other manner of malign machination.