In early 1994, Virginia Senator Chuck Robb appeared extremely vulnerable. Once touted as a potential Democratic presidential candidate, Robb spent much of his first term defending himself against charges that he had attended parties where drugs were used, had engaged in extramarital affairs, and had known that his aides had possessed illegally taped cellular telephone conversations of long-time rival Governor Douglas Wilder.

Robb's difficulties began soon before he launched his campaign in March 1994. He issued a letter to Virginia Democratic leaders and activists in which he admitted to having extramarital sex, although he consistently denied that this contact had ever included inter-course. This fine distinction made him no friends among moral conservatives, who disapproved of any extramarital activity, or among liberals, who found his behavior sexist and his account implausible.

Yet on election night, Robb survived a Republican tidal wave to win a surprisingly easy victory over Republican candidate Oliver North, of Iran-Contra notoriety. North spent approximately $20 million, more than four times Robb's total, and deployed a huge volunteer army that covered the state with placards. He had the strong endorsements of Reverends Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson, and could count on the organizational efforts of the Christian Coalition, the Family Foundation, and the National Rifle Association. In the home state of the former Moral Majority and the Christian Coalition, however, North failed to carry Lynchburg (a stronghold of Falwell and the former Moral Majority), or Chesapeake, and only narrowly carried Virginia Beach (home of both Robertson and the Christian Coalition).

The 1980s California congressional plans are not shown to be gerrymanders by the fact that the 1982 results were grossly disproportional to the votes of the electorate, nor by the fact that these plans each have only a very small number of seats where both parties have reasonable chances for the victory, nor by the fact that each plan is characterized by tortuously shaped districts, e.g., in San Diego and Northern California, which have no justification in terms of minority protection or in preserving city boundaries intact, although all three of these statements are true. It is well recognized that single member districts cannot be expected to yield proportionality between a party's vote percentage and the percentage of seats it wins (indeed, defense experts cite my own work on just this point); and it is also recognized that neither the absence of competition, nor the existence of ill-compact districts, make a gerrymander in and of themselves. Each of these factors, rather, is an indicator of possible gerrymandering efforts. When all three of these factors are found together with others (e.g., a plan passed in frantic haste by a partisan majority with no input from the minority party, a plan with clear discriminatory impact on the incumbents of the minority party) we have evidence for the conclusion that a plan that looks like a gerrymander, was intended to be a gerrymander, and has the effects of a gerrymander, is a gerrymander.

Although we often plead with our colleagues and students to be more “systematic,” we may not always be clear about what we mean. In biology, systematics is the “scientific study of the kinds and diversity of organisms and of any and all relationships among them” (Simpson 1961), the most important aspect of which is taxonomy, “the theory and practice of classifying organisms into groups on the basis of their relationships” (Mayr 1969). In political science, our organisms are political institutions. This article is a call for research in political systematics with suggestions for how the taxonomy of electoral systems might be developed.

Institutional taxonomy can play many roles in comparative politics. It can provide an appreciation of the existing and theoretical diversity of political institutions, provide the information necessary to construct a theory of institutional development, systematize the variables that affect and constrain political interactions, and provide the starting point for informed discussions of institutional reform. Current attempts to develop large standardized data sets in comparative politics (Rosenstone 1994), for instance, require institutional taxonomy if the effort is to be effective. Of course, this discussion would be moot if institutional taxonomy were already well established (with or without the term).

Among the excellent national simulations available—the Harvard Model UN, Cleveland Model UN, Howard University Model Organization of African States, etc., and several regional models—the best may be the National Model League of Arab States, held annually in March at American University in Washington, DC. Sponsored by the Arab League Information Center and the National Council on U.S.-Arab Relations, the Model (in its seventh year in 1989) imitates the League of Arab States, an organization founded in 1945 for the purpose of coordinating issues related to Arab development and cooperation.

College and university student delegations represent the 22 member states of the Arab nation. As they debate, lobby, and caucus, students learn about the interplay of the state system, international and regional organization, intra-Arab cooperation and conflict, issues of the region, and superpower impact upon the area. As participants gain greater understanding of the culture, concerns, achievements, and problems of the Arab world, they shed stereotypes, question prejudices, and begin to appreciate another perspective on regional issues.

The Model League consists of plenary sessions, five committees (political, economic, social and cultural, legal, and Palestinian affairs), and a summit conference of the League Council. The bulk of time is spent in the committee sessions, where students introduce, debate, and build coalitions in support of resolutions. In the process, they practice parliamentary procedure and sharpen forensic and bargaining skills. Faculty advisors evaluate the delegations and nominate individuals for awards.

In the September 1993 pages of this journal, I asked whether senators can illuminate the political and legal beliefs of Supreme Court nominees by questioning them at confirmation hearings (Comiskey 1993). Many observers of the confirmation process believe that a nominee's testimony can produce insights into the nominee's views that go beyond what is available from the nominee's public record. While such testimony has often proved barren in the past, these observers often express the view that better questioning of nominees can bring forth greater insights in the future (Carter 1988; Melone 1991; Rees 1983; Ross 1987). By contrast, I concluded that the political context in which Supreme Court nominations occur, the motives of participants in the confirmation process, and the incentives facing these participants will likely continue to inhibit illuminating testimony by nominees.

Since my previous paper was written before last summer's hearings on the nomination of Ruth Bader Ginsburg, this article examines those hearings. In some respects, her testimony resembled that of most recent nominees. In at least one respect—her candor on abortion—her testimony was a major departure from that of all recent nominees with the partial exception of Robert Bork.

I would like to give attention to that portion of the American Political Science Review which is most read and least criticized, the book review section. My reading of APSR book reviews in recent years leads me to the following observations:

Most of the books selected for review adhere to the orthodox ideological values of today's political establishment. More importantly, these books almost invariably are reviewed by political scientists who share the same centrist ideological slant as the authors they are reviewing. In the reviews dealing with international relations, for instance, cold war terms like “totalitarianism”, “Castroism”, “subversion” and “Free World” are employed uncritically. Western capitalist nations are described as having “governments”, while socialist nations are said to have “regimes”, usually identified as being under the tutelage of one personage, hence: “Mao Tse-tung's regime”, and “Fidel Castro's Cuba”. The idea that popular sentiments and democratic in-puts might be part of the governance of countries like Cuba or China is not entertained.

Americans have been debating national health insurance throughout the twentieth century. The content of this elusive reform has evolved far more than the tone of the debate. When Theodore Roosevelt championed health care reform (during the 1912 presidential campaign) he wanted to build a hardy stock of Anglo Saxons—health insurance would help deliver white America from race suicide (Dyer 1980; Ross 1913, 299–304). More than thirty years later, President Truman made health insurance the major domestic issue of his presidential campaign; his goal was an extension of the New Deal social welfare state (Starr 1982). Today, the reform that was once condemned as too costly is widely prescribed as cost control.

While the reform itself has changed, the debate that surrounds it remains entirely predictable. Theda Skocpol describes the contestants: On one side, self-confident, neo-Progressive experts touting rationalizing schemes. On the other, conservative critics deploying “ideological, emotionally charged arguments” (Skocpol 1994). The shrill rhetoric of opposition has alternately bemused and baffled observers. Compulsory insurance was “a dangerous device … announced by the German emperor” (in 1918), a force representing “social theory … socialism, even communism” (in 1932), “the keystone to the arch of socialism” and “a threat to every area of freedom as we have known it (by the 1960s).