Alaska’s experiment with a top-four primary and ranked-choice voting has turned into a mess of confusion, frivolous candidates, and strategic decoys that undermine serious campaigns and voter clarity.
Alaska adopted a top-four primary feeding into a ranked-choice general election, and the result is predictable chaos. The system invites anyone who can pay a small fee to clutter ballots and siphon attention from legitimate contenders. For voters who want clear choices and accountable elections, this setup is doing the opposite.
What stands out is how the low barriers to entry — a tiny filing fee and no petition requirements — turn ballots into a free-for-all. That encourages candidacies that exist for spectacle, name recognition, or mischief rather than serious public service. When ballots list dozens of names, meaningful debate gets drowned out by noise and gimmicks.
The practical damage becomes obvious when a decoy candidate shows up with the same name as an incumbent. That’s not politics; it’s confusion engineered to peel off votes. Voters who glance at a long ballot under time pressure can pick the first name that looks familiar, and in a tight race that can change outcomes.
Alaska conducts elections in two stages under completely different rules. First, all candidates, regardless of party, face off in a primary, in which each voter casts a single vote. The top four finishers advance to the general election, in which voters can rank all four and their votes shift in multiple rounds of counting in which the bottom finisher is eliminated and his votes reassigned.
As with Alaska’s past races under this system, which began in 2022, there was the usual insane complexity: 17 candidates for governor, 16 for the U.S. Senate, 15 for the state’s lone House seat. This is in part a function of Alaska’s silly filing requirements, the loosest in the country. Anyone can run for office for a fee of $100—no need to gather petition signatures. That encourages frivolous candidacies in Alaska’s system, allowing attention seekers the guarantee of having their name listed next to prominent people—and free media.
Alaska’s House contest featured, again, Eric Hafner, who is serving a federal prison term in New York after pleading guilty in connection with a string of threats against government officials. He made the final ballot in 2024, and may do so this year, too. The Senate race featured his mother, Carol Hafner, and Green candidate Richard Grayson—neither of whom lives in the state. Of more than 30 candidates running for the Senate and House, few outside the incumbents or the main Democratic challenger even tried to raise money. Mr. Grayson recently explained that he was running “for fun,” that he actually supports Democrat Mary Peltola, and that if he makes the final four, he’ll quit. This is the contempt RCV encourages candidates to show Alaska voters.
At least the felon and the out-of-staters weren’t deceiving voters. The Senate race featured the last-minute entry of a retired elementary school teacher with a history of supporting Democrats, including Mrs. Peltola. He happens to be named Daniel Sullivan—the same name as the Republican incumbent—and filed, just before the deadline, to run as a Republican. The decoy insists he isn’t trying to confuse voters, and isn’t working with Mrs. Peltola or her supporters. Yet his filing documents were handled by an Anchorage Democratic consultant, and his campaign logo is a near replica of Sen. Sullivan’s.
Doppelgangers have run in other elections but, again, Alaska’s system dramatically increases the spoiler potential. In a jungle primary teeming with candidates, voters struggle to focus on individuals or disputes. Every name is dropped on one big ballot. The Sullivans were adjacent this year, with the decoy candidate listed first. How many Alaskans ticked the first box, unaware they were voting for someone other than whom they intended?
With 80% of the vote counted, Mrs. Peltola has 64,000 votes and Sen. Sullivan has 57,000. No. 3? Decoy Dan, with 3,200 votes, who didn’t campaign and has only 12 donors (not including himself). Alaskans will be even more confused when they have to “rank” the two Dans in November.
That blockquote lays out the core problems in blunt terms, and as a Republican observer I see a system that rewards gamesmanship over governance. The election rules should incentivize candidates to earn support, not exploit ballot mechanics. When a system invites decoys and joke campaigns, it strips elections of seriousness and accountability.
Ranked-choice supporters argue the system prevents spoilers, but the Alaska experience shows it can produce more spoilers in practice. When the primary is a crowded jungle and the general requires ranking, campaigns can pursue strategies that prioritize confusing the electorate. That is a tactical, not democratic, advantage.
Voters deserve clarity: a reasonable filing threshold, sensible signatures requirements, and safeguards against intentional voter confusion. Small fees and lax rules may sound democratic on paper, but in practice they hand the stage to anyone with a headline in mind. The stakes are too high to let gimmicks dictate who serves.
Republican campaigns facing decoys and chaotic ballots have to adapt, but adaptation should not be the permanent solution. The better path is to reform the rules so that running for office requires a modest demonstration of grassroots support, ensuring ballots reflect genuine choices. That protects both voters and the integrity of elections.
Alaska’s case is a warning. Systems that look good in theory can break badly in practice when incentives are misaligned. Lawmakers and voters who care about coherent, accountable government should pay attention and push for changes that make elections straightforward and honest.
