I’m not a bridge player myself, but I’ve spent some time watching others. The game is fascinating for its semiotics — it’s not just about who has the best cards, or who is smartest at playing them; it’s also about how players can exchange information with their partners about the cards they hold, during the bidding process. They accomplish this by making statements that are at the same time like bets and like signals. There’s a website  with a list of about 150 bidding conventions, many of them just responses to specific actions by an opponent. Not listed there, though, is my favorite, the Shriner’s Convention.

Named for its utter hilarity, the probably-always-fictional convention is employed in this way: picking up your cards and finding them unacceptable for play, you immediately say, “I only have twelve cards!” and you throw them in the middle of the table, spreading them out toward your partner. Your partner cries “I have fourteen!” and does the same.

You have thus alleged an irregularity that cannot be disproved. This tactic isn’t really very practical at the bridge table — it saves you from one difficult hand, but virtually guarantees that you will not be invited to play another.

However, the Shriner’s Convention has found a new application, in politics.

Democracy means a lot to us. To the historian, it is the flower of Enlightenment philosophy; for the government, a badge of authority; to the sociologist, an institution for ordering human interactions; for the community, a way to maintain order; for the individual, the assurance of being heard.

To a person seeking power, democracy is both a tool and an obstacle. Someone who knows, better than the populace itself, what the outcome of an election should be, must deal with the risk of failure.  When elections produce an undesired outcome, a losing hand, it’s easy to conclude that democracy has somehow failed and requires tinkering. For the long term, there are tools like gerrymandering, voter suppression, misinformation, etc., but those are useless once the polls have closed. For gaining control of the government, voting is not always the solution. Voting may be the problem.

A number of people found the results of the 2020 U.S. presidential election unacceptable — notably the incumbent, himself a candidate. Even without evidence of irregularities, allegations were ready that the results were somehow wrong. In one case an election official was asked to find a specific number of votes, suggesting that a suitable tally could be predicted. The large number of votes received by an opponent was offered as evidence that he had not really won. The complaints never added up.

Based on the doubt that had thus been created, scenarios were presented in which official tabulations might be ignored. Delays prompted some to pretend that officials had discretion in awarding electoral votes. The idea is, if returns cannot be certified, another entity such as a  legislature can substitute its judgment for that of the electorate.

These methods didn’t succeed in reversing the 2020 election, but they’re being refined in preparation for 2024. The Brennan Center for Justice has identified 14 tactics used in the 2022 election cycle, along with new trends. These include voter intimidation, counties’ refusal to certify election results, and efforts to discredit voting machines.

For the Shriner’s Convention to make sense at the bridge table, some coordination is required. For instance, if both partners claim to have only twelve cards, it’s easy to show whether their statements are true. The election-denial techniques, also prepared in advance, require little arithmetic. One big difference is that in the political arena the cheater expects to win.

Another difference is that a victory may prepare the way to change not just the balance of power but the basic rules of the game. Some are already referring to a “post-Constitutional” future. Delegates at this year’s  Republican convention in my state wanted to end the popular election of senators. “We do not want to be a democracy,” one said. See this story in the Seattle Times.

Do we really want to hand these guys the cards?