“It’s very difficult to say, ‘This is how unmarried women vote’ and ‘This is how married women vote,’” said Kelly Dittmar, the director of research at the Center for American Women and Politics. “There’s a lot more at play, just as there is with men.”The idea that women voters might be influenced—or compelled—by their husbands’ political views dates back to before women got the right to vote a century ago, and it was even used strategically by some suffragists to make their case. According to Christina Wolbrecht, the co-author of A Century of Votes for Women, a camp of early suffragists argued, somewhat counterintuitively, that since women would likely vote the same way as their husbands, they would merely double the vote, rather than dramatically shift the landscape of electoral politics, as some feared.When some of the first voter polls were published in the 1940s and 1950s, data seemed to suggest that these words of consolation were based in truth: White women voted similarly to white men. Many political scientists used these findings to lend credence to the theory that women were simply mirroring their husbands and were unable, or uninterested, in forming their own political opinions.This narrative quickly became dominant, even as it came under fire for being paternalistic as well as largely unsubstantiated. Party officials as well as more skeptical political scientists and scholars argued that polling was far from conclusive. Rather, it suggested a somewhat impossible chicken-or-the-egg problem. Did a woman vote like her husband because they were married, or did she marry her husband because they shared a worldview—and probably a class position, religion, and racial identity too? Dittmar pointed out that the findings could easily be interpreted to mean almost the exact opposite, and lead researchers to the conclusion that women were influencing their husband’s votes. “You could look at the same data and say, ‘Well men marry women who share their ideology,’” Dittmar said.While spouses can influence each other’s votes—either explicitly or implicitly—what at first appears to be an ironclad typology begins to come apart when examined more closely.
Following a 1956 survey cited by Wolbrecht, the pollster George Gallup (for whom the Gallup poll is named) argued that the takeaway was dubious at best, asserting that the notion that women vote in the mold of men appeared “destined for the scrap heap.”But to the scrap heap it did not go: Wolbrecht said it was common to see activists quoted in newspaper articles claiming, This is going to be the year women no longer vote like their husbands.Married women’s voting patterns became a major talking point once again in 1983. After studying exit polling from the midterms that took place the year before, Martin Plissner, a political commentator for CBS News, found that single voters favored Democratic candidates by a margin of 26 percentage points, while married voters did so by a much slimmer margin of just 4 percentage points. Plissner predicted that a similar dynamic would play out in the 1984 elections, and suggested that married voters were more likely to vote for Reagan. Like Bond, millions did, with 63 percent of all married voters—both men and women—voting for Republican candidates down-ballot. This disparity became known as “the marriage gap.”A camp of early suffragists argued, somewhat counterintuitively, that since women would likely vote the same way as their husbands, they would merely double the vote, rather than dramatically shift the landscape of electoral politics, as some feared.
The marriage gap has grown in every election cycle since 1984, except for the last one, when it slightly shrunk.
But experts say this sort of explicit coercion is not widespread enough to account for married women’s voting habits as a group. More common is its more subtle, though no less pernicious, analog—that is, the way society has arranged itself over centuries to tether women’s fates to their husbands.The enduring pay gap, for example, means men still earn more than women on average, making it more likely that husbands contribute more household income. “That yokes women’s economic interests to their husband’s,” said Julie Kohler, a senior advisor at the progressive donor network Democracy Alliance.Explicit coercion is not widespread enough to account for married women’s voting habits as a group. More common is its more subtle, though no less pernicious, analog—that is, the way society has arranged itself over centuries to tether women’s fates to their husbands.
Though Democrats might viciously fight over the Black woman vote in primary season, they often forget about them during the general election, when campaign strategies centering swing voters usually win out. When politicians do gear their messaging toward Black women, it’s often at the eleventh hour, said Glynda Carr, the president and CEO of Higher Heights, an organization that empowers Black women in politics.“Black women voters are the foundation of a winning coalition, particularly for the Democrats,” Carr said. “But at the end of the day Black women have put more into our Democracy than we’ve gotten back.”Despite the fact that investing in Black women voters promises to yield more returns for Democrats—since 1954, a majority of white women have only supported the Democratic candidate in two presidential elections—the party continues to place its focus on white women. This cycle, Joe Biden has pinpointed the “suburban Facebook empathy mom” as the group of voters he needs to beat Trump. All In Together, a nonpartisan organization focused on mobilizing women voters, recently emphasized “the Guardian mom” as a critical swing voter, whom the group defines as white married women over the age of 50 who live in the suburbs.In truth, Dittmar said, the soccer mom, security mom, empathy mom and Guardian mom are all creations—ideal types that don’t necessarily correlate to reality. “Candidates, campaigns and even the media focus on [these archetypes] because you’ve created them as this panacea of what’s going to make the difference,” she said. “When in fact they don’t represent a single group at all.” Dittmar said the same is true of our conception of married women voters.But neat narratives can overshadow thornier ones. While at first blush, Bond’s story seems perfectly congruent with the tales of husbands foisting their political views onto their wives—a prime example of a woman whose spouse made her more conservative—it is not the whole truth.Bond said her post-divorce self-education did play a role in her political evolution. But her children also grew up, and became much more progressive than she had raised them to be. As they developed their own political beliefs, she began to look into the issues and candidates they talked about together, which included universal health care and Bernie Sanders. She left Orange County, that conservative bastion, five years ago, and now lives in Las Vegas, Nevada, which leans Democrat.“Some of these patterns may be more of a reflection of social inequities than actual interpersonal dynamics.”