In the past 40 years an extensive literature has grown up around aggregate political economy models of elections, but few articles have focused on the German case. Initially, Kirchgässner (1977; 1991), developed vote-popularity (VP) functions, with the unemployment rate as the dominant economic variable predicting the German ruling parties' performance. Thereafter, using vote functions (VF) from 1961 to 1994, Jérôme, Jérôme-Speziari, and Lewis-Beck (2001) tested the “yardstick” competition existing between French and German economic votes.

Our political economy model has correctly forecasted the 1998 and 2005 elections. However, in 2002 we predicted a tight race to the benefit of the Christian Democrats(CDU)/Christian Socialists(CSU)-Free Democratic Party (FDP) opposition, so underestimating the narrow defeat of the FDP by the Green Party. In the German political system, proportional representation makes single-party domination almost impossible. On the contrary, the big parties, Social Democratic Party (SPD) or CDU/CSU, are pushed to build a majority coalition. In this competition, the FDP has been the “pivotal party” in German political life, at least until 2002. Since then, the Greens have challenged the FDP, with the Ecologists allowing the SPD to form a red-green coalition in 1998 and in 2002. Similarly, in 2005 the FDP was not associated with the grand coalition driven by Angela Merkel.

In the German national election this fall, based on the forecast of the Chancellor Model, the governing coalition will score a resounding victory. Chancellor Angela Merkel enjoys a high approval rating, which puts her at a 2-1 advantage over the challenger, Peer Steinbrück. Although Germany is not a presidential system, where voters elect the chief policymaker, chancellor support has proved to be a strong predictor of vote choice in German national elections. Our forecast model also includes long-term partisanship, which provides a broad base for the governing parties in this election, and length of tenure, which exacts a modest penalty after two terms of office. Since its premiere in 2002, the model has predicted the winner in each election. In a case of perhaps beginner's luck, the 2002 forecast scored a bull's-eye with 47.1%, the exact share of the governing parties; the forecast was posted three months before Election Day. No poll or other model, not even the Election-Day exit polls, came close to this performance; in fact, most people predicted a defeat for Schröder's red-green coalition (Norpoth and Gschwend 2003).

For more than four decades, Louis Fisher has been writing about, speaking to, and teaching scholars and political practitioners. His intellectual range has been remarkable (he moves easily from institutional research on all three federal branches to historical studies to detailed legal analyses) and his scholarly output intimidating.

During the 1950s, Isaiah Berlin wrote a famous essay entitled “The Hedgehog and the Fox.” The point behind the title is that the hedgehog knows one big thing and the fox knows many things. From this distinction, Berlin suggests there are two intellectual types: one who relates everything to a single idea and the other who explores a diversity of ideas. It is difficult and unrealistic to pigeonhole Fisher as one or the other intellectual type. The reality is that Fisher combines both types. My sense is that Fisher's wide diversity of scholarly and policy-influencing accomplishments, and his skepticism of conventional wisdom, put him in Berlin's second category rather than first. However, my position at the Congressional Research Service (CRS) also prompts me to say, on the other hand, one big idea has animated Fisher's contributions to the academic and political/legislative worlds. That idea is highlighted in the title of one of his plethora of publications: Defending Congress and the Constitution (2011). Of course, when you write about the Congress and the Constitution, you analyze—like Berlin's fox—a host of interrelated ideas and relationships: history, law, the presidency, the judiciary, and more.

A dozen years before this PS symposium, several political scientists came together in a similar manner to honor Louis Fisher's scholarship and highlight his contributions to the discipline (Spitzer 2000). Many wonderful insights and observations were made to shed light on Fisher's versatility and impact. However, that effort missed an opportunity to highlight a key contribution of Fisher's work: a revival of pre-behavioral era functions and concerns within political science. In many ways Fisher is a throwback to a traditional political science approach where scholars did not select subfields or specialties but sought to engage in broad public debates about governing and, most importantly, believed that normative and empirical studies could and should go hand in hand. With the latter approach Fisher has made his most important contribution to political science.

Political science and law intersect not only in the political world, but as disciplines. This is as it should be, and for two important reasons: disciplinary history and content. As Fisher (2009, 798) notes, the first political science graduate program, founded in 1880, studied “history, law, and philosophy.” The American Political Science Association, founded in 1903, defined itself in terms of six distinct areas of study, five of which—comparative legislation, international law, constitutional law, administrative law, and jurisprudence—were in some manner about law (798). In addition, law is the expression of authority by the state. Its formation, content, and consequences form the purest expression of governmental power through what we more comprehensively define today as public policy. Early in the history of our discipline, political scientists approached the law in a manner that was “legalistic, formalistic, conceptually barren and largely devoid of what would today be called empirical data” (Somit and Tannenhaus 1967, 69). That is, they approached it as did lawyers of the time. Yet as political science matured, those who studied public law ceased being merely “little lawyers,” vesting their work with no less respect for the content of law, but tempered also with the tools and perspectives of what was by now a distinct discipline. No early political scientist better exemplified this maturation than Edward Corwin, especially (although not exclusively) as reflected in his timeless study, The President: Office and Powers (1957).

You may be forgiven if you associate Lou Fisher's name primarily with his robust defense of Congress's preeminent authority in national security and budgetary matters, or with the idea that courts are only one of three co-equal players in the constitutional dialogue that occurs among all of the branches, or with the related effort to disabuse scholars, the press, and the public of the profoundly incorrect notion that courts have “the last word” in constitutional interpretation. All of these themes are, indeed, key components of Fisher's vast body of scholarly work and public testimony, and they will be forever linked to him as their progenitor. Just as solidly grounded in impeccable research and unassailable logic is Fisher's work on executive power. It fits snugly within his Madisonian emphasis on a government of limited and shared powers, enforced through effective checks and balances, where each institution exercises its respective power while overseeing the other branches to ensure respect for constitutional boundaries.

Lou Fisher's prolific writings on the war power—the constitutional repository of authority to initiate war and lesser military hostilities on behalf of the American people—have informed and, for the better part of four decades, shaped discussions and debates on the respective roles of Congress and the president, from the halls of academe to the corridors of power. Widely cited and invoked on hundreds of occasions by political scientists, historians, and legal academics, his work has opened doors for serious consideration of his views by representatives in all three branches of the federal government. It has, as well, established his place in the front-rank of constitutional scholars and, almost certainly, earned for his scholarship an enduring influence on discussions about the constitutional authority to order the use of military force.

The serial fiscal policy and budgeting woes of the United States over the last three decades have been compounded by a bipartisan evasion of institutional responsibility by elected leaders. Long before “sequestration” and “fiscal cliffs,” Louis Fisher argued that presidents and members of the House and Senate undermined constitutional power balance and the spirit of budgeting law. A variety of ill-conceived process “reforms” further damaged the separation of powers system. As a scholar, Fisher uses an institutional lens to explore budget concepts that are rare in political science, such as capacity, accountability, and duty. And as a public intellectual, Fisher's relevance has been secured by his repeatedly broaching these scholarly and political taboos.

As other contributors to this symposium have noted, Louis Fisher has played a major role in shaping debates in such diverse policy battlegrounds as federal budgeting, war powers, and the use of legislative and presidential vetoes. Fisher is also widely (and fairly) credited with spurring interest in “constitutional dialogues”—the “process in which all three branches” along with “the states and the general public” offer separate, competing, and sometimes complementary visions of the Constitution and the values it embodies (Fisher 1988, 3).

Those who write for this symposium faced two choices in their careers: producing highly specialized articles with little application to government controversies or devoting themselves to public policy and making contributions to it. They chose the latter. I want to explain my approach and also give recognition to the accomplishment of other scholars who have been engaged with contemporary issues. All of them are eminently comfortable in maintaining the original commitment of political science to public law. At the risk of overlooking deserving scholars, I also identify others who decided to orient their research to thinking about and helping to resolve government issues.

During the past two decades, mounting evidence suggests that much of human social cognition occurs without deliberate effort and largely outside conscious awareness. Dual-process models, which distinguish explicit (conscious, slow, effortful) cognitive processes from implicit (often unconscious, fast, effortless) cognitive processes, “form the dominant paradigm [of social cognition research] for the past 20 years or more” (Evans 2008). Although these advances in social cognition research have begun to be integrated into models of political cognition over the past decade (e.g., Kim, Taber, and Lodge 2010; Lodge and Taber 2013; see Nosek, Graham, and Hawkins 2010 for a review), and are beginning to influence other disciplines like communication (see Hefner et al. 2011), the role of implicit processes in outcomes commonly studied by political scientists deserves more attention. This symposium aims to showcase the diverse set of subject areas within political science to which dual-process models have been and can be applied. We hope that this symposium is a springboard for those who are considering bringing a dual-process approach into their own research by providing an overview of relevant literatures and methods.

In 2011, more than 3% of all black men in the United States were imprisoned, compared to only 0.5% of all white men. Among prisoners ages 18 to 24, black men were imprisoned at a rate more than seven times that of white men (Carson and Sabol 2012). It is becoming increasingly urgent for researchers to understand what accounts for these race-based disparities. While a broad constellation of social problems exist that likely contribute to these disparities in concert, different fields of social science tend to focus on different types of explanations. Political scientists and sociologists have tended to emphasize the role of institutional factors, including criminal justice policies and practices, in maintaining race-based disparities. Social psychologists, in contrast, have tended to emphasize individual factors, including punitive responses to crime by jurors, judges, and criminal justice professionals.

This article provides a foundation for understanding the role of implicit biases in political behavior, particularly implicit racial attitudes and voting behavior. Although racial attitudes have rarely played a major direct role in American presidential politics until 2008, numerous local, state, and federal elections are held every year in the United States that involve minority candidates. As a result, the implications are considerable.

It is easy enough to rattle off numerous categories of social identities long of interest to political behavior scholars—race, sex, state or nation, party, ideology, social class, etc. But, a precise definition and measurement strategy for examining these identities is more elusive. This article discusses the conceptual foundations of a recently developed approach to measuring identity and focuses on its specific application as a new measure of partisanship in the United States.

One of the shortcomings of the implicit racial attitudes literature is that it relies almost exclusively on white subjects. Arguably, there are two possible reasons for this. First, these measures were created to address issues of social desirability among whites who harbor negative racial attitudes toward blacks. Second, social desirability pressures and antiblack affect were not viewed as significant among black respondents (see Craemer 2008). This assumption is problematic because it treats black racial attitudes as a monolith. Rather than examining black racial opinion as a complicated and multivalenced set of evaluations about their own group and others, there has been an over emphasis on measures of group solidarity (e.g., linked fate). Understandably, bloc voting and cohesive policy opinions have partially justified this focus; however, the black community is more diverse than presidential election turnout suggests. Price (2009) argues that linked fate, the most common measure for black racial identity, is not adequately problematized as a potentially positive or negative measure of psychological attachment. Here, we hope to build on this literature by using an implicit black identity measure.

Political knowledge today is studied primarily at the explicit level. Measures of political knowledge often rely on testing whether voters are aware of various “facts” about political life, such as the names and offices of prominent political actors, the institutional structures of the political system, and the ideological or policy differences between the major political parties (e.g., Delli Carpini and Keeter 1996). These various kinds of political information are considered to be important by political scientists and other social scientists because they facilitate the informed voting decisions that are needed to hold elected leaders accountable (e.g., Lau and Redlawsk 2006; Pande 2011).

In May 2012, political scientists learned of efforts by representative Jeff Flake (R-AZ) to eliminate political science funding from the National Science Foundation (NSF) budget. The American Political Science Association (APSA) was caught off-guard, and concerned political scientists scrambled to contact their representatives and urge the amendment's defeat. Flake's initial effort to cut funds overall from the NSF was defeated, but a second measure, specifically to keep the NSF from funding political science, passed only hours later. This was the second time in three years that legislators targeted the NSF Political Science Program. Although these measures have been sponsored and widely supported by Republicans, some Democrats have supported these measures as well. This article examines the vote on the Flake Amendment to understand why individual representatives voted for or against cutting NSF funding for political science research.

A persistent challenge for minority candidates is mitigating negative effects attributed to their unpopular group identity. This was precisely the case for Mitt Romney, a Mormon, as he sought and captured the 2012 Republican presidential nomination. We draw on existing public opinion data about the tepid reaction to Romney's Mormonism from within Republican ranks. Then, we review our own experimental data to examine a potential mitigation strategy, “God Talk,” and its emotional costs to the GOP. We find that Romney and similar candidates may avoid direct penalty by party rank-and-file for their minority attributes when using God Talk, but the associated affective response supporters direct at their party may carry yet-unknown putative costs for both party and candidate.