Affinity, Antipathy and Political Participation: How Our

Concern For Others Makes Us Vote∗

Peter John Loewen
Department of Political Science, University of British Columbia,
C425–1866 Main Mall, Vancouver, B.C. V6T 1Z1
[email protected]

June 4, 2009

∗
Acknowledgements: For helpful comments at various stages, I thank Scott Matthews, Mark Pickup, Daniel
Rubenson, Patrick Fournier, Frédérick Bastien, Andrea Kermack, the journals two reviewers, and James Fowler.
I acknowledge the financial support of SSHRC in the form of a CGS Doctoral Fellowship and a Postdoctoral
Fellowship and the Killam Trust for a Postdoctoral Fellowship. I gratefully acknowledge the generous support of
Greg Lyle and the Innovative Research Group in data collection. Finally, I thank André Blais for convincing me
of my duty to study turnout. This article is dedicated to him.

1
 Abstract

Some citizens differ in their levels of concern for the supporters of various parties. I

demonstrate how such concerns can motivate citizens to vote. I first present a simple

formal model that incorporates concern for others and election benefits to explain the

decision to vote. By predicting substantial turnout, this model overcomes the “paradox of

participation”. I then verify the model empirically. I utilize a series dictator games in an

online survey of more than 2000 Canadians to measure the concern of individuals for other

partisans. I show how the preferences revealed in these games can predict the decision to

vote in the face of several conventional controls. Taken together, the formal model and

empirical results generate a more fulsome and satisfactory account of the decision to vote

than an explanation which relies solely on duty.

Les citoyens ne se préoccupent pas tous des supporters des différents partis. Je

démontre comment de telles préoccupations peuvent motiver les citoyens à participer

aux élections. Dabord, je présente un modèle formel qui explique la décision de voter

en intégrant les préoccupations à légard des autres électeurs et les bénéfices associés à

une élection. En prédisant une part substantielle de la participation, ce modèle surmonte

le paradoxe de la participation électorale. Ensuite, le modèle est vérifié empiriquement.

Jemploie à cette fin une série de jeux du dictateur insérés dans une enqute menée en ligne

auprès de 2000 Canadiens afin de mesurer leur degré de préoccupation à légard des autres

partisans. Je montre comment les préférences révélées dans ces jeux peuvent prédire la

décision de voter. Ensemble, le modèle formel et les résultats empiriques produisent une

explication plus éloquente et satisfaisante de la décision de voter lors dune élection que

celles qui s’appuient seulement sur le sens du devoir.

2
 1. Introduction

“...voting is essentially a group experience” (Lazarsfeld et al 1968, 137)

“Gypsies, tramps, and thieves, these are the people who will vote for McGovern...” As
sung at the 1972 Republican National Convention.

Elections are not the simple aggregation of millions of individual and independent decisions
whether and for whom to vote. Nor are they simply about self-interested decisions. Elections
are instead a competition between groups of people who rely on more than self-interest when
deciding when and how to participate in politics. These individuals engage in other-regarding
behaviour in which they consider the benefits of an election outcome for whole groups of people.
If we wish to understand the decision to participate in politics, we need to take account of this
element of individual decision making.
In this article, I provide an interpretation of other-regarding behaviour and electoral partici-
pation in which I argue that antipathy and affinity towards others - specifically, other partisans
- can be used to explain the decision to vote or not to vote. Using a game from behavioural
economics - the dictator game - I demonstrate empirically that citizens who have stronger pref-
erences or greater concern for some partisans than others are more likely to vote, especially as
the size of these groups grows. This suggests that models of voter turnout that rely only on self-
regarding considerations - including even duty and social obligation - are incomplete. A more
fulsome account of the decision to vote takes account of this variation in individuals’ concern for
others.
The demonstration of this argument proceeds as follows. In the next section, I justify a
conception of politics as a contest between groups of citizens. In this view, politics is not
just a contest between parties fighting for the support of individual citizens. Rather, it is a
fight over scarce resources between groups of citizens and their respective representatives in

3
political parties. As such, how individuals feel about various partisan groups matters for their
understanding of politics. In section 3, I formalize a calculus for voting that is consistent with
this view of politics, particularly by incorporating a regard for others. The model demonstrates
how affinity for co-partisans and antipathy towards other partisans can drive the decision to vote.
It thus departs from the conventional rational choice model of voting by incorporating concern
for others and not relying on a duty term to explain the paradox of participation. It is also thus
similar to those models presented by Fowler (2006), Fowler and Kam (2007) and Edlin, Gelman
and Kaplan (2007), though it presents a more direct empirical test. In presenting the model, I
argue that such an account provides a more satisfactory theoretical explanation of the decision
to vote than a model that depends on duty, resources, or partisan identification. In section four,
I describe a large online survey experiment that uses dictator games to measure antipathy and
affinity. Dictator games involve giving a subject a sum of money and then observing how much
of that money they are willing to share with a recipient. I describe the properties of dictator
games and their suitability for the measurement of affinity and antipathy. I show in the fifth
section that behaviour in these games is consistent with what we should expect according to
partisan identification. Partisans give more to their fellow partisans and less to the partisans
of other parties and this difference increases with strength of partisanship. For example, those
individuals who identify with the Conservative party give more money to fellow Conservatives
than to Liberals. And this difference increases with strength of partisanship. The sixth section
presents multiple regression models of the decision to vote in the 2006 Canadian federal election
that incorporate measures of antipathy and affinity. Closely resembling conventional models of
turnout, these models demonstrate that antipathy and affinity matter independent of other well-
known correlates of the decision to vote, such as media attention, party identification, education,
income, and election competitiveness. Moreover, the models suggests that both affinity and
antipathy independently predict turnout. I discuss these findings and conclude in the seventh
section.

4
 2. Group Politics

Politics can be understood as a contest between groups of people. Three sets of evidence support
this view. First, we generally understand parties as having different bases of support; bases
that can generally be described in terms of social groups.1 The Liberal party, for example,
is the party of visible minorities and Catholics, of Quebec federalists, of francophones outside
of Quebec. The Conservative party is traditionally the party of protestants, rural Canadians,
and Westerners. And the New Democratic Party is a party of union members, women, and
increasingly urban dwellers (Blais 2005; Blais et al. 2002; Bibby 1990). While there is some
debate over the importance of social groupings for vote choice (see, e.g., Clarke et al. 1979;
LeDuc 1984), it remains true that parties often think of their support in terms of groups and
pursue votes accordingly (for a popular account, see Wells 2006). And, as an empirical matter,
we can explain vote choice as a function of group membership (Blais et al. (2002), for a non-
Canadian example, see Abramson, Aldrich and Rhode (2006)).
Second, the rhetoric of parties frames politics as a competition between different groups.
In doing so, parties attempt to paint a positive picture of the individuals who support them
and paint a negative picture of the individuals supporting other parties. While the invocation of
gypsies, tramps, and thieves is perhaps too strong, parties do draw caricatures of their supporters
and their opponents. Take, for example, the leaders’ debate during the 2006 Canadian federal
election.2 Stephen Harper, the leader of the Conservative Party, characterized his party as “on
the side of the people who work hard, pay their taxes, and play by the rules.” Similarly, the
leader of the New Democratic Party, Jack Layton, cast his party as the one which would “make
politicians in Parliament accountable to you, and we’ll work day in and day out, not for the
well-connected, but for working families... We’ll ensure dignity and respect for seniors. And we’ll
make sure there’s (sic) opportunities for young people...” Prime Minister Paul Martin accused
the Conservative party of being on the side of “richer Canadians” and opposed to the interests
of their “working class” counterparts. In all of these rhetorical appeals, leaders are framing their
policy offerings in terms of the groups that they benefit. Their intention is to draw a picture of
the type of people who support their party. If a favourable picture can be drawn, then voters

5
are more likely to be convinced that casting a ballot for a party is going to benefit people whom
they like and people who are like them.3
Third, we know that voters think about their membership in parties in the same way they
think about their membership in other groups. Indeed, Campbell et al. (1960)’s original con-
ception of party identification was that it was similar to affiliation with other groups, whether
religious, ethnic or racial (see also Greene 2004, 136-137). Recent research has confirmed this
view and argued that individuals identify with parties the same way they identify with other
social groups (Green, Palmquist and Schickler 2002; Greene 2004). In doing so, they adopt
positive images not only of their party, but of the people who support their party. And they
sometimes adopt more negative views of those who support other parties (for more general work
on social identity theory, see Tajfel 1978). Arguably, this suggests that our conceptions of party
identification are incompletely served by questions that ask only about attachment to a party
and not about feelings towards a party’s supporters.
Taken together, these arguments suggest that people vote as groups, parties conceive of
elections as contests between groups of voters, and voters think of parties and partisans in the
same terms in which they think of other social groups. When we combine this with the possibility
that some individuals are motivated by a concern for others, then it becomes puzzling that
existing models of the decision to vote would not take account of affinity towards others. What
is needed, then, is an account of voting in which (some) individuals take account of their feelings
of the various groups who stand to benefit from an election’s outcome. In the next section, I
formalize such an account.

3. A Different Calculus of Voting

Riker and Ordeshook (1968) provide perhaps the definitive self-interested account of turnout.
Indeed, in his extensive review of the decision to vote or not to vote, Blais (2000) takes this as
the rational choice model. A “paradox of participation” emerges from this model, namely in
that it predicts no or very low turnout. To review, the original model posits three components:
B, the benefits an individual receives from an election outcome, C, the costs an individual

6
incurs in voting, and P , the probability that an individual’s vote will be decisive. An individual
decides to vote if P B > C. The problem with the model is immediately apparent. In only
the rarest circumstances is P ever anything but infinitesimally small. Indeed, as Fowler (2006,
675) observes, numerous scholars have demonstrated formally (Edlin, Gelman and Kaplan 2007;
Chamberlain and Rothchild 1981) and empirically (e.g. Gelman, Katz and Bafumi 2004; Mulligan
and Hunter 2003) that in any election, P is about equal to 1/N . It thus does not make rational
sense for a voter to go to the polls.
To resolve this paradox of participation, Riker and Ordershook proposed adding a duty
term, D, resulting in D + P B > C. Thus, if a citizen’s sense of duty plus the discounted
benefits of winning were greater than the cost of voting, then they would cast a ballot. In
his extensive review of the literature, Blais (2000, 2–11) outlines six additional amendments to
the model by rational choice scholars (Downs 1957; Ferejohn and Fiorina 1974; Mueller 1989;
Uhlaner 1986, 1989a,b, 1999; Niemi 1976; Barry 1978; Aldrich 1993) and four non-rational choice-
based explanations (e.g. Brady, Verba and Schlozman 1995; Rosenstone and Hansen 1994; Blais
2000, 13-14). After this, he too comes down on an explanation that “assumes that citizens are
concerned with the well-being of their community as much as with their own self-interest” and
that encapsulates such a concern in a sense of duty.
In my view, an explanation that relies on duty is only half-right. That many citizens have a
sense of duty seems uncontroversial. That it would take the form of a concern for others seems
equally uncontroversial. But, this is still a static explanation (Fowler 2006, 675) because it does
not condition this concern for others on the importance of the election. In other words, it does
not explain why a sense of duty would be greater for some elections than others. As such, it does
little to explain the variation we see in levels of turnout between national and local elections,
for instance.4 Finally, it does not clearly specify whether this obligation to the group is oriented
towards others in the group, i.e. individuals want to help others, or whether it is self-oriented,
i.e. an individual wants to feel as though she is a member of the group.
We can find a way out of this paradox, I and others would argue, if we develop a model that
allows for a concern for others, and that effectively takes into account the outcome of elections.

7
Such a model is also more consistent with a view of politics in which groups of people fight over
power and resources, rather than a view in which parties simply play out a competition in front
of unconnected and solitary citizens who think only of benefits to themselves.
I present a model of turnout in which the decision to vote depends on the difference in regard
that an individual has for the supporters of various political parties and for the benefits that will
accrue to them given some election outcome. Similar models have been proposed (see Fowler
2006; Fowler and Kam 2007; Edlin, Gelman and Kaplan 2007). My model differs from these in a
few subtle respects. First, in contrast to Fowler and Kam, I allow for the presence of more than
two parties and do not demand that voters be evenly divided between them.5 Second, in contrast
to Edlin et al., I do not emphasize a feedback mechanism to explain habitual voting.6 My model
clearly owes its fundamental intuition and implications to these prior models, especially in its
focus on material rather than emotional outcomes (contra Glazer 2008). However, it adds to
these models, both theoretically and in the empirical tests below, by allowing the size of various
groups to vary. If it can be shown that the probability of turnout varies not only with differing
concern for groups of people, but with variation in the size of these groups, then an even more
convincing case can be made for other-regarding motivations for voting.
As with the classical model of voter turnout, the model assumes that there are costs to
voting, C, which individuals consider in the decision to vote. While these costs are often small,
they are not nil. Individuals face costs, for example, in determining where and how to vote and
in learning about parties and issue positions. Additionally, as with the classical model, voters
consider the benefits to themselves. But they discount these benefits by the probability of their
vote being decisive for their preferred party. However, unlike the classical model, this model
assumes that voters also care about benefits to others, specifically the benefits that are realized
by supporters of the winning party. The more they care about those supporters in contrast to
supporters of other parties, the more likely they are to vote in an election.
Formally, the model assumes that two sets of benefits exist. First, benefits to self: BS .
Second, benefits to the supporters of the winning party: B0 . In real terms, both sets of benefits
could include changes in tax laws that favour the supporters of the winning party more than

8
the losing party, on average. They could similarly include new spending measures (or cuts)
which disproportionately favour (harm) the supporters (opponents) of the winning party. The
important point to be noted here is that these benefits need not be construed in terms of
patronage, but rather in terms of the larger programmatic differences in spending which occur
between parties of various stripes (e.g. Blais, Blake and Dion 1993). By omission, the model
thus assumes that no generalized benefits exist for all members of society given the election of
some party over another (contra Fowler and Kam 2007).7
The model further assumes that voters do consider P , the probability of casting a deciding or
tying vote. As Fowler notes (Fowler 2006), in any election in which the outcome is uncertain this
1
term generally equals N
. The model also incorporates the concern or affinity of an individual for
supporters of their own party, αaf f , and antipathy for supporters of other parties, αant . These
terms are subscripted to indicate an individual’s preferences for different partisans, beginning
with the highest level of concern and moving to the lowest. Finally, the model assumes that
voters conceive of the election in terms of a competition between citizens who support their
party, who make up some share of the population (n1 ), and those who support other parties,
who make up other shares of the population (n2...n ). Accordingly, I assume that n1 +n2 +....+nn
is approximately equal to one. Whereas the decision to vote in a classical model depends on
D + P B > C, in this model an individual votes if :

n
X
P (BS + αaf f,i BO N ni + αant,i BO N ni ) > C, (1)
i=2

which rearranges as:

n
BS X
P N( + αaf f,i BO ni + αant,i BO ni ) > C, (2)
N i=2

As P is approximately equal to 1/N , then the P N term drops away.8 Benefits to self, BS ,
are similarly rendered very small by N and thus should not be expected to have an effect on
the decision to vote. However, as the benefits to others, BO , are not discounted by P or N ,
then this can be a sufficient motivator to vote in the face of costs. Intuitively, voters care about

9
the benefits incurred by others, and these benefits add up to a non-trivial sum when a group is
sufficiently large. The model thus effectively reduces to:

n
X
(αaf f,i BO ni + αant,i BO ni ) > C, (3)
i=2

Since one individual’s vote can confer a non-trivial benefit on a whole group of people and
deny the benefit to other groups, those voters who care about the utility of others can now be
motivated to vote. This is true even in the face of C.9 As the difference in their concern for
others increases, i.e as αaf f increases and/or αant increases, then voters should become more
likely to vote. But this increase should be conditional on the size of the groups for whom they
have antipathy or affinity. Substantively, if politics is a competition between groups than those
who see one group as more deserving of an election’s spoils than others will be more likely to
vote, especially as those groups grow in size. Antipathy and affinity, then, should explain some of
the decision to vote. I next describe a behavioural experiment designed to test this proposition.

4. Survey and Research Design

My study relies on an online survey of some 2035 respondents conducted by a commercial public
opinion research firm in Canada in May 2007. The respondents are broadly but certainly not
perfectly representative of the population. The survey contained conventional questions about
political participation and political preferences, but also included a series of dictator games from
behavioural economics aimed at revealing affinity and antipathy towards other partisans. Below,
I describe the survey, the survey participants, and the variables drawn from the survey.

4.1. Survey

The survey was conducted online. Subjects were required to login to the survey using a unique
identification. This allows me to call up previously entered demographic information from those
who have completed prior surveys. Those completing the survey for the first time were first
asked a series of screening questions, including whether they voted in the most recent federal

10
election and their partisan identification. Subjects answered several questions about recent
news exposure, their attention to federal and provincial politics, and their views on federal and
provincial politicians. Subjects then completed an unrelated eight-item module on empathy.
They were next presented with the dictator game battery. Following this, they were presented
with questions concerning their support for public spending, their past charitable giving, their
views of the public service, and their views of recent political events. The final effective sample
was 2035 respondents.10

4.2. Subject Profiles

Compared to a university-based convenience sample, the online survey methods affords a large
number of respondents and comparatively representative population, particularly in regards to
age, education and income. Compared to a telephone survey, it allows us to present subjects with
more complex or complicated questions, such as the dictator game questions used to measure
affinity and antipathy, while not sacrificing the advantages of a broadly representative sample.
It should be noted, however, that the sample does not perfectly resemble one that is randomly
drawn.
Table 1 shows the characteristics of the sample and compares them to the 2006 Canadian
Election Study, a RDD telephone survey. The average respondent in the internet sample is
slightly younger (t = 2.60, p < .00). There is also a lower incidence of French respondents
(χ2 = 13.93, p < .00) and female respondents (χ2 = 7.06, p < .00) in the internet sample.
Finally, the internet sample appears both wealthier (χ2 = 123.55, p < .00) and more educated
(χ2 = 349.76, p < .00).
In addition to the socio-demographic differences, the internet sample also appears to be
more politically engaged. It exhibits a higher incidence of both weak and strong Conservative
identifiers, weak Liberal identifiers, weak and strong NDP identifiers, and strong Bloc Quebecois
identifiers. Overall, the internet sample has a higher incidence of those who identify with a party
than the CES sample (χ2 = 24.99, p < .00).
The most glaring difference between the sample and the general population is the incidence

11
of turnout (it is 91.4% in the internet sample, 90.5% in the CES post-election survey, but only
64.7% in the population). The panel is quite clearly overpopulated by those who claim to have
voted in the last federal election. Because vote is our dependent variable, this imbalance cannot
be ameliorated by a control variable. To address this, I weight the data according to the actual
rate of turnout in the 2006 federal election. As a result, my regressions rely on control variables
to account for differences on sociodemographic variables and party identification, and a weighting
to address the over-reporting of voting (for a similar approach, see Blais et al. 2004).11

[Insert Table 1 about here]

4.3. Antipathy, Affinity, and other variables

To begin with standard variables, survey questions were used to capture respondent demograph-
ics as well as party identification. Furthermore, respondents were asked how many days a week
they read the newspaper and watch television news. They were equally asked how many hours
a week they spend reading internet news. For interpretive ease, all variables are recoded from 0
to 1. Question wordings are available in Appendix A.
Antipathy and affinity are measured through a series of dictator games (see Camerer 2003),
the properties of which are discussed in more detail below. In addition to a regular $500 draw
for survey participation, respondents were told that they were eligible to win up to four prizes
of $100 at the end of the survey. In the case of one prize, they were asked how much of it they
would share, should they win, with an anonymous individual about whom they knew nothing.
For the other three prizes, they were similarly asked how much they would be willing to share
with an anonymous individual about whom they knew nothing except which political party the
respondent typically supported (Conservative, Liberal or NDP; in the case of Quebec residents,
Conservative, Liberal or Bloc Quebecois). The presentation order of the anonymous recipients
was randomized. Question wording for the dictator games is available in Appendix B.
The comparison of these amounts can give us important information about the level of an-
tipathy and affinity individuals have for supporters of other parties. For example, if an individual
indicated she would give $50 to a Conservative but nothing to a Liberal, then we may say she

12
has more antipathy for Liberals than a respondent who gave the same amount to partisans of
both parties. Alternately, we could say she has more affinity for Conservatives. When these
variables are weighted by the size of each party in a respondent’s province, then we have direct
measures of the effects of antipathy and affinity as described in our theoretical model. I leave
further discussion of the operationalization of these specific variables to Section 6.
In the past, dictator games have been used to measure other-regarding behaviour, whether
altruism, social identification or fairness (e.g. Fowler 2006; Fowler and Kam 2007; Whitt and
Wilson 2007). The question remains as to whether they can be used to measure antipathy and
affinity for other partisans. I argue that differences in partisan allocations in a dictator game are
just such evidence of antipathy and affinity towards other partisans. That is, an individual who
is willing to allocate $50 to a supporter of the Conservative party shows more affinity for such
supporters than a person who allocates $40. Similarly, that individual can be said to have more
antipathy for Liberals if he allocates $0 than if he allocates $10. This is particularly because
they are displaying a real difference in their concern for others, and because the display of this
concern comes at a real cost. Behaviour in the dictator game thus closely resembles that which
we would expect according to social identity theory and the preference for some groups over
others (see Tajfel 1978; Greene 2004). It can similarly be construed as a measurement of “social
distance” between respondents and other partisans (Hoffman, McCabe and Smith 1996)
The use of behavioural economics games in political science and especially in voting behaviour
research is rather unconventional. As a result, several reasonable objections can be anticipated
(see Benz and Meier 2008, 2-3). First, one could contend that subjects do not understand the
play of the game and instead make allocations more or less randomly. However, Andreoni and
Miller (2002) and Dawes, Loewen and Fowler (2008) have shown through the manipulation of
payoff functions that individuals do understand the game and do not simply make up allocations
as they go along. Instead, their allocations are consistently transitive and reflective of their
preferences. Second, it could be argued that the small stakes of the games mean that individuals
would play differently if the stakes were higher. Most research, however, suggests that subjects
play consistently provided the stakes are real (as they are in our game) (e.g. Camerer and

13
Hogarth (1999); Carpenter, Verhoogen and Burks (2005), but see also Cherry, Frykblom and
Shogren (2002)). Third, it can be argued that despite consistent play, behaviour in dictator
games does not correspond to the real world equivalents we wish to measure. Benz and Meier
(2008), however, report strong evidence of the correlation between dictator game allocations
to anonymous individuals (taken as a measure of altruism) and charitable giving, among other
actions (for a longer review, see Loewen (2008)). Accordingly, I am confident behaviour in these
games reveals respondents’ concern for others.
These objections aside, the dictator game has substantial advantages over, for example, asking
subjects to state how they feel about other partisans (e.g. Greene 2004). First, stated opinions are
arguably more subject to social desirability than revealed preferences in a dictator game, precisely
because the former are virtually costless to make. Dictator game allocations ask subjects to put
their dollars where their hearts are. Second, while asking subjects to allocate money may seem
like an abstract task, it is likely one that subjects can undertake with more consistency and
meaning than, for example, trying to translate their preferences for some partisans over others
onto a 7-point Likert scale or onto a 0-100 thermometer. Indeed, the dictator game is desirable
because it asks subjects to demonstrate their affection for some groups over others at a cost to
themselves, and it does so in quantities that a subject can readily understand.12

5. Antipathy, Affinity, and Party Identification

Table 2 demonstrates the different allotments of partisans in the dictator games. The differences
in these allocations suggest that the dictator game does uncover affinity and antipathy between
political supporters, as subjects give more to co-partisans than they do to rival partisans. More-
over, they are likely to give more to those who are not identified with a party than those who are
identified with another party. For example, the first row in Table 2 shows that weak Conservative
identifiers give $21.20 to other Conservatives on average, while they given only $12.50 and $12.70
to Liberal and New Democratic respondents, respectively. These differences become more stark
when we consider the allocations of strong Conservative identifiers. These individuals on average
give other Conservatives $26.70, while they give Liberal and New Democratic respondents only

14
$10.60 and $10.20 respectively. A similar pattern obtains for New Democratic, Bloc Quebecois
and Liberal partisans. They allot more money to their co-partisans than to other partisans, and
these differences are larger for strong partisans than for weak. This pattern only fails to obtain
with regards to the allocations of strong Liberals and strong Conservatives to Bloc partisans.
Those who do not identify with a political party - more than a third of our sample - appear
to give less to partisans compared to anonymous individuals. On average, non-partisans give
$22.40 to anonymous recipients (partisans give about the same on average). They conversely give
between $15.30 and $16.70 to partisans. Taken together, all of these results suggest that the al-
locations in the dictator game are consistent with respondent partisanship or non-partisanship.13
Table 3 demonstrates the within-subject differences in allocations. Each cell presents the
average within-subject differences by donor. For example, the cell in the upper left demonstrates
the average difference in allotments to Conservatives and Liberals by Conservative donors. I then
use a Wilcoxon sign-rank test to determine the significance of this finding. As a consequence
of being non-parametric, the Wilcoxon does not assume that the quantities being compared
are normally distributed as with a conventional t-test. The test reports a probability that the
direction of the real difference in scores is the opposite of that observed. Accordingly, the p-
values in parentheses represent the probability that the difference exhibited is in fact in the other
direction (Wilcoxon 1945).
An examination of these results finds that, as with the observations in Table 2, within-
subject allocations are consistent with partisanship. Conservatives allocate significantly more to
Conservatives than Liberals, more to Conservatives than New Democrats, more to Conservatives
than to Bloquistes, and more to Conservatives than anonymous individuals. Moreover, they
give more to anonymous individuals than to any other partisans. As importantly, they make no
distinction between Liberal and New Democratic recipients. Liberal, New Democratic and Bloc
identifiers make similarly consistent allocations, allocating their co-partisans significantly more
money than other partisans and non-partisans.
A final observation is warranted. Fowler and Kam (2007) find that participants in their
experiments exhibit a bias against Republicans. A similar bias against Conservatives is exhibited

15
in these data. Non-partisan recipients give significantly less to Conservatives than to New
Democrats or Liberals. New Democrats similarly give less to Conservatives than to Liberals,
and Liberals give less to Conservatives than to New Democrats. Two possible sources of this
Conservative bias both support a view of politics as a struggle between different groups of
partisans. Non-Conservatives may exhibit less concern for Conservative partisans because they
believe they are unfairly enriched by the current Conservative government. They could also
exhibit less concern because they believe that, as a group, Conservatives are less in need of the
support of others, consistent with a view of Conservative supporters as well-off financially. These
explanations are not exclusive, and both support the view that citizens approach politics with
clear distinctions between groups of partisans, differences that translate into varying levels of
concern.

[Insert Table 2 about here]

5.1. Why Antipathy and Affinity are not just Party Identification

Given the preceding the results, it can be objected that rather than measuring affinity and
antipathy towards other partisans, the dictator game allocations are simply a different measure
of partisan identification. Three pieces of evidence militate against this contention. First, many
partisan identifiers give nothing to their co-partisans: 30.1% of Conservative identifiers, 36.6%
of Liberal identifiers 27.7% of NDP identifiers and 36.8% of Bloc identifiers give nothing to
their fellow partisans. Second, most non-partisans allocate money to one or more co-partisans.
Indeed, only 41.3% of non-identifiers allocate nothing to all other partisans. Together, these
findings suggest that partisan identification is neither sufficient nor necessary to display differing
levels of concern for the partisans of other parties. Third, as the models presented below in
Tables 4 and 5 show, when measures of affinity and antipathy are added to a turnout model
with party identification, all variables remain significant and the marginal effects of partisan
identification remain unchanged. Indeed, as the models below demonstrate, I obtain stronger
results when I model the decision to turnout as a function of concern for others, as suggested
by our theoretical model. Taken together, this evidence suggests that I am tapping into feelings

16
that, while related to the traditional measure of partisan identification, are not one and the
same. Instead, they reach into another element of partisanship, particularly that which involves
the feelings of partisans towards other partisans and not just formal parties (see also Green,
Palmquist and Schickler 2002; Greene 2004).

[Insert Table 3 about here]

6. Antipathy, Affinity, and Turnout

My contention is that those who display higher amounts of antipathy towards the supporters of
other parties and higher amounts of affinity for supporters of their party should be more likely
to vote than those who do not make a distinction between the supporters of various parties.
They should also be more likely to vote as the size of these groups increases. Finally, this effect
should be independent of other predictors of the decision to vote, such as education, income,
gender, attention to media, and partisan identifications.
Table 4 presents results from three logistic regressions. The first presents a standard model
in which the decision to vote is regressed on different party identifications, sociodemographic
factors, three measures of news consumption, and the closeness of the race in the respondent’s
constituency. In keeping with many prior research findings (e.g. Leighley and Nagler 1992b,a;
Strate et al. 1989) older, more educated and wealthier citizens are all more likely to vote. Like-
wise, those who identify with a political party are more likely to have reported casting a ballot
(Huckfeldt and Sprague 1992). While females appear less likely to vote, and internet news con-
sumption has no effect on the turnout decision, all other variables conform to a standard account
of turnout (for a similar turout model using Canadian data, see Blais et al. 2002).
The second and third models add measures of affinity and antipathy. Affinity is the largest
amount of money allocated to a partisan recipient (measured $0 to $100) times the vote share of
that recipient’s party in the respondent’s province in the 2006 federal election (measured 0 to 1).
In keeping with the model specified above, this weights affinity by the size of the recipient group.
The first measure of antipathy is the second largest amount of money allocated to a partisan

17
recipient times the vote share that recipient’s party in the respondent’s province in the same
election. The second measure of antipathy likewise takes account of the third largest partisan
allocation and weights this by the respective vote share. Logically, then, these variables become
larger when a respondent has more concern for a recipient or the recipient’s party increases
in size in a province. If these variables predict turnout as expected from the model, then the
coefficient on affinity should be positive and the coefficients on antipathy should be negative.14

[Insert Table 4 about here]

In the second model, we include both measures of antipathy. When modeled in this way,
affinity has the expected positive and significant coefficient. However, only the first antipathy
variable is significant, and just weakly so (p = .09). As the two measures of antipathy are highly
correlated (r = .85), I include only the first in the third model. In this instance, affinity continues
to strongly and significantly predict turnout and the antipathy measure also significantly predicts
turnout in the expected direction. Finally, a likelihood ratio test suggests that this third model
contains more information than the first (χ2 = 6.79, p = .03). It also suggests that the second
model adds no information to the third (χ2 = 0.23, p = .63). Accordingly, it appears that affinity
and antipathy matter for the decision to vote, though it is in a more limited case for antipathy.
To understand the size of these effects, Table 5 shows the average predicted level of turnout
for three levels of affinity and antipathy and three different provincial vote levels for the party of
the target recipient. As the table shows, the effects of Affinity are increasing both in group size
and generosity. For example, when an individuals’ target party commands 15% of the vote in a
province and they move from giving $0 to supporters of this party to the mean amount ($25),
their probability of voting increases about a percentage point. But if the target party represents
45% of the population, this increase in affinity drives a five percentage point increase in the
probability of turning out. When we consider the movement from a complete lack of Affinity
(an allocation of $0) to a state of maximum affinity ($100), we see that the increase in turnout
ranges from 6 percentage points (at 15% group size) to 17 percentage points (at 45%group size).
This, then, is a substantively large effect. The effects of Antipathy are similarly large. A move
from a complete lack of antipathy (in which you give $100 to the supporter of another party) to

18
complete antipathy (in which you give nothing) is six percentage points at 15% group size. It
rises to 21 percentage points when group size reaches 45%.
How do these effects compare to other variables in the model. In short, they are comparatively
large. For example, the average effect of moving from no partisan identification to a strong
identification is 18.5 percentage points. The difference in the probability of voting between the
youngest and the oldest respondent is some 37.8 percentage points. The effect of moving from
minimum to maximum income is 13.8 percentage points. The same movement in education
leads to a 12.4 percentage point increase in the probability of voting. Controlling for other
factors known to substantially affect voter turnout, then, concern for others appears to have an
important effect on voter turnout.15

7. Discussion and Conclusion

I have presented an explanation of turnout that was captured in a simple decision theoretic model
and demonstrated empirically using a series of dictator games embedded in an online survey.
Moreover, these results were shown to be robust to a number of conventional controls. These
results lend support not only to my account, but also the similar accounts of Fowler (2006),
Fowler and Kam (2007), and Edlin, Gelman and Kaplan (2007).
This model of turnout is more fulsome than one that relies on traditional conceptions of party
identification or duty. It recognizes that party identification is about more than a preference
for one party over another. Instead, it is membership in a social group. Moreover, it recognizes
that senses of obligation to others are likely to drive decisions to participate, especially when
the stakes of participation increase. The fulsomeness of this model, then, comes from taking a
broader view of partisanship and a view of duty that is not blind to instrumental outcomes.
These findings have important implications for our study of politics and the decision to
participate in politics. The results support the view of politics as a competition between groups
in which individuals are concerned not only with their own well-being, but also the well-being of
others. One the positive side of the ledger, this is an encouraging result for those who desire a
politics that is typified by civic concern and not just by pure self-interest. Indeed, these results

19
suggest that many people participate in elections because they care about others.
These findings are not entirely positive, however. Looking at these results from the per-
spective of antipathy, we see that as a preference for some citizens over others increases, some
individuals are more likely to vote. By extension, this means that if groups of partisans can be
made more polarized and more distrusting of one another, then their likelihood of participating
should increase. In short, if politics can be made more negative, then voter turnout could be
expected to increase. This does not necessarily recommend negative politics, but it does call into
question the view that greater voter participation is necessarily a virtue. Indeed, it supports
a much older view that high turnout is not necessarily indicative of civic engagement but of
conflict (Berelson, Lazarsfeld and McPhee 1954).
Whether one takes these results as positive or negative, the sum result is that a better model
of turnout incorporates individuals’ concern for others. Elections are not contested by parties
that appeal to a disaggregated collection of atomized individuals. Rather, they are contested
by parties who compete for the support of groups of voters. In doing so, they often portray the
supporters of other parties in an unfavourable light. As the story goes, an election win for an
opposing party is thus likely not only to perhaps make aggregate welfare worse off, but especially
to comparatively enrich those who gave the party their support. According to this conception of
elections, the views individuals hold of those supporting other parties matter. As their concern
for those who support other parties differs from their concern for those in their own party, they
become more likely to vote. Of all the explanations for turnout, then, we should have increased
affection for those that incorporate other-regarding preferences.

20
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25
 Appendix A: Question Wording and Variables for Affinity,

Antipathy, and Political Participation

Affinity is the maximum allocation to a partisan ($0-100) multiplied by the vote share (0-1) of
that partisan’s party in respondent’s province in the 2006 federal election.

Antipathy 1 and Antipathy 2 are the second and third highest allocations to parti-
sans ($0-100) multiplied by the respective vote share (0-1) of that partisan’s party in the
respondent’s province in the 2006 federal election.

Partisan identifications are variables reading 1 when a respondent identifies as a strong iden-
tifier of a party, 1/2 when then identify as a moderate identifier, and 0 otherwise. Identification
is determined with the question “Thinking about federal politics in Canada, generally speaking,
do you usually think of yourself as Liberal, Conservative, N.D.P, or none of these?” Those who
identified a party then received the standard follow-up: “And, generally speaking, how strongly
do you think of yourself as a (party)?”

Income is a four category variable measuring household income in the last year. It is
rescaled from 0 to 1. Values are <$40000 (0), $40000 to $60000 (1/3), $60000 to $80000 (2/3)
and >$80000 (1).

Age is a six category variable measuring age group. It is rescaled to 1. Values are 18-
24 (0), 25-34 (1/6), 35-44 (2/6), 45-54 (3/6), 45-54 (4/6), 55-64 (5/6), 65 and older (1).

Education is a three category variable measuring highest level of education. It is rescaled

from 0 to 1. Values are high school or less (0), at least some college (1/2), and at least some
university (1).

26
Female is a dummy variable reading 1 if a respondent is a female and 0 otherwise.

Unemployed is a dummy variable reading 1 if a respondent is currently unemployed

and 0 otherwise.

Newspaper and TV News both measure the number of days in a week the respondent
accesses news through that medium. The variables are rescaled from 0 (0 days per week) to 1
(7 days per week).

Internet News measures the number of hours a respondent spends on the internet reading
news in a given week. The minimum and maximum responses are rescaled 0 to 1.

Voting is a dummy variable reading 1 when respondents indicate having voted in re-
sponse to the question: “In talking to people about elections, we find that they are sometimes
not able to vote because theyre not registered, they dont have the time, or they have difficulty
getting to the polls. Did you happen to vote in the last federal election?” Max-Min is the
maximum allocation to a partisan less the minimum allocation. The variable is rescaled from 0
to 1.

Max-Mean is the maximum allocation to a partisan less the mean of allocations to

other partisans. The variable is rescaled from 0 to 1.

27
 Appendix B: Dictator Game Instructions

The complete English text of the dictator game experiment is below. For respondents in Quebec,
the Bloc Quebecois is substituted for the New Democratic Party:

In addition to our normal $500 cash prize for completing the survey, we will be drawing
four other prizes at the end of this survey. One person in this study will be randomly chosen to
receive each prize.

In each draw, the prize is $100. Should you win any of the draws, your answer to the
questions below will determine the amount of each prize that you receive. Remember that your
answer is completely anonymous.

(1) Below, you will see two boxes. In the first box, enter how much of a $100 prize you
would keep if you won one of the additional draws. In the other box, indicate how much you’d
like to give away to an anonymous individual who will also be randomly chosen. You know
nothing about this anonymous individual.

You must choose how to divide the $100 between yourself and the anonymous individ-
ual. You may keep all, none, or some of the money - the decision is up to you and will be
completely anonymous. The total of the two boxes must add up to $100. Once you have made
your decision, please hit next.

(2) Below, you will see two boxes. In the first box, enter how much of a $100 prize you
would keep if you won one of the additional draws. In the other box, indicate how much
you’d like to give away to an anonymous individual who will also be randomly chosen. You
know nothing about this anonymous individual except that they support the Conservative Party.

You must choose how to divide the $100 between yourself and the anonymous individ-

28
ual. You may keep all, none, or some of the money - the decision is up to you and will be
completely anonymous. The total of the two boxes must add up to $100. Once you have made
your decision, please hit next.

(3) Below, you will see two boxes. In the first box, enter how much of a $100 prize you would
keep if you won one of the additional draws. In the other box, indicate how much you’d like to
give away to an anonymous individual who will also be randomly chosen. You know nothing
about this anonymous individual except that they support the Liberal Party

You must choose how to divide the $100 between yourself and the anonymous individ-
ual. You may keep all, none, or some of the money - the decision is up to you and will be
completely anonymous. The total of the two boxes must add up to $100. Once you have made
your decision, please hit next.

(4) Below, you will see two boxes. In the first box, enter how much of a $100 prize you
would keep if you won one of the additional draws. In the other box, indicate how much you’d
like to give away to an anonymous individual who will also be randomly chosen. You know
nothing about this anonymous individual except that they support the New Democratic Party

You must choose how to divide the $100 between yourself and the anonymous individ-
ual. You may keep all, none, or some of the money - the decision is up to you and will be
completely anonymous. The total of the two boxes must add up to $100. Once you have made
your decision, please hit next.

The order of questions 1-4 was randomized.

29
 Appendix C: Tables and Figures

Table 1: Sample demographic and political characteristics

Current CES
Variable % or Mean (SD) % or Mean (SD)
Age 49.7 (13.5) 50.8 (16.5)
French 18.2% 22.3%
Female 49.1% 52.7%
Household Income <$40000 24.0% 36.7%
$40000 to $60000 20.8% 20.5%
$60000 to $80000 17.7% 16.4%
>$80000 37.4% 26.4%
Education High School or less 14.8% 37.6%
Some College 29.9% 25.6%
Some University 55.2% 36.9%
Conservative ID Weak 13.1% 11.5%
Strong 7.3% 6.3%
Liberal ID Weak 17.4% 15.5%
Strong 6.0% 6.5%
NDP ID Weak 8.6% 5.4%
Strong 3.1% 2.9%
BQ ID Weak 3.4% 5.6%
Strong 3.6% 2.1%
Total Party ID 62.5% 55.8%
Voted 91.3% 90.5%
Affinity 7.25 (7.94)
Antipathy 1 3.83 (5.99)
Antipathy 2 4.48 (6.97)
Margin 0.18 (0.14)
Newspaper 0.61 (0.38)
TV News 0.71 (0.34)
Internet News 0.16 (0.18)
N 2035 4057

30
 Table 2: Partisanship and Average Allocations in the Dictator Game
Donor/Recipient Anon. Cons. Liberal New Dem. Bloc Que. N
Weak Conservative 20.7 21.2 12.5 12.7 2.9 311
Strong Conservative 22.3 26.7 10.6 10.2 19.3 168
Weak Liberal 23.6 16.3 23.4 19.5 8.8 414
Strong Liberal 24.0 11.3 28.5 15.7 15.9 143
Weak NDP 23.1 11.7 18.3 28.8 14.5 188
Strong NDP 23.4 13.2 19.1 33.8 13.5 70
Weak BQ 20.6 12.7 12.2 20.7 80
Strong BQ 19.5 12.1 11.4 29.1 82
Non-Partisan 22.4 15.3 16.7 16.6 16.7 896

31
 Table 3: Within-Subject Differences in Dictator Game Allocations (Wilcoxon Sign-Rank Differences)
Con-Lib Con-NDP Con-BQ Lib-NDP Lib-BQ Con-Anon Lib-Anon NDP-Anon BQ-Anon
Donor Mean (ρ) Mean (ρ) Mean (ρ) Mean (ρ) Mean (ρ) Mean (ρ) Mean (ρ) Mean (ρ) Mean (ρ)
Conservative 11.4 (.00) 11.4 (.00) 13.3 (.00) -0.4 (.63) 4.6 (.02) 2.0 (.00) -9.4 (.00) -9.5 (.00) -10.1 (.00)

32
Liberal -9.7 (.00) -4.0 (.00) 5.4 (.00) 6.6 (.00) 11.1 (.00) -8.7 (.00) 1.0 (.02) -5.5 (.00) -10.8 (.00)
New Democrat -6.4 (.00) -18.0 (.00) -1.4 (.95) -11.1 (.00) 0.9 (.68) -11.0 (.00) -4.6 (.00) 6.3 (.00) -3.0 (.97)
BQ 0.6 (.27) -12.9 (.00) -13.5 (.00) -7.7 (.00) -8.2 (.00) 5.2 (.00)
Non-Partisan -1.4 (.02) -1.5 (.01) 0.0 (.80) -0.0 (.37) 1.2 (.62) -7.1 (.00) -5.7 (.00) -6.0 (.00) -4.6 (.01)
 Table 4: Antipathy, Affinity and Turnout (Logistic Regression)
Model 1 Model 2 Model 3
Coef. S.E. ρ Coef. S.E. ρ Coef. S.E. ρ
Affinity 0.03 0.01 0.01 0.03 0.01 0.01
Antipathy 1 -0.03 0.02 0.09 -0.02 0.01 0.04
Antipathy 2 0.01 0.01 0.63
Margin 0.46 0.40 0.24 0.47 0.40 0.23 0.47 0.40 0.24
Liberal ID 0.85 0.21 0.00 0.81 0.21 0.00 0.82 0.21 0.00
Conservative ID 1.41 0.23 0.00 1.34 0.24 0.00 1.34 0.24 0.00
NDP ID 0.80 0.24 0.00 0.74 0.24 0.00 0.74 0.24 0.00
Bloc ID 3.34 0.60 0.00 3.33 0.60 0.00 3.34 0.60 0.00
Age 2.23 0.29 0.00 2.23 0.29 0.00 2.22 0.29 0.00

33
Education 0.70 0.14 0.00 0.68 0.14 0.00 0.68 0.14 0.00
Income 0.76 0.14 0.00 0.76 0.14 0.00 0.76 0.14 0.00
French -0.16 0.16 0.30 -0.12 0.17 0.47 -0.14 0.16 0.36
Female -0.45 0.11 0.00 -0.50 0.11 0.00 -0.44 0.11 0.00
Newspaper 0.55 0.15 0.00 0.57 0.15 0.00 0.57 0.15 0.00
TV News 0.61 0.16 0.00 0.60 0. 16 0.00 0.60 0.16 0.00
Internet News -0.42 0.28 0.11 -0.50 0.28 0.08 -0.49 0.28 0.08
Constant -2.01 0.22 0.00 -2.05 0.23 0.00 -2.05 0.23 0.00
2
LR χ 410.65 417.68 417.45
LR 2 > 1, ρ = 0.07
LR 3 > 1, ρ = 0.03
N 2035
Table 5: Predicted probability of turnout given different levels of affinity, antipathy, and party
vote share
Allocation Vote 15% Vote 30% Vote 45%
Affinity=0 0.67 0.67 0.67
Affinity=25 0.68 0.70 0.72
Affinity=100 0.73 0.79 0.84

Antipathy=0 0.71 0.71 0.71

Antipathy=25 0.70 0.68 0.67
Antipathy=100 0.65 0.58 0.50
Probabilities are generated from Clarify. All other variables are held at their means.

34
 Appendix D: Further Results

In this appendix, I present results from three different models to demonstrate the robustness of
the results presented above. The first model considers the results when a measure of general
altruism is included in the final empirical model presented in Table 4. Because that model relies
on allocations in the dictator game to measure antipathy and affinity, it is possible that the model
is simply tapping general altruism. However, the results in the first column of Table 6 (Altruism
Model) suggest that is not the case. If altruism is measured as the allocation to a completely
anonymous individual and added to the model, it has an insignificant effect. However, the effects
for antipathy and affinity remain. Moreover, according to a likelihood ratio test, it adds no more
information to the model than Model 3 in Table 4 (p = 0.86).
The second and third models present specifications of affinity and antipathy which are not
corrected for the size of target groups. The first, Max-Min, is the difference between the maxi-
mum allocation to a partisan less the minimum allocation to a partisan, rescaled 0-1. The second,
Max-Mean, is the difference between the maximum allocation to a partisan less the mean alloca-
tion to all other partisans, rescaled 0-1. So, if a respondent gave $50 to a Conservative, $40 to a
Liberal and $30 to a New Democrat, then Max-Min would read 0.2 (($50-$30)/100). Max-Mean
would read 0.15 (($50-($40+$30)/2)/100). Obviously, these two measures are closely related
(r = .95, p = .00). As can be seen in Table 6, these variables perform as expected. That is, as
the difference between antipathy and affinity increases, the probability of turnout also increases.
Taken together, these results suggest that the principal results of the paper are robust to the
inclusion of a measure of general altruism. Moreover, they are not driven only by group size.

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 Table 6: Further Results/Robustness Checks (Logistic Regression)
Altruism Model Max-Min Max-Mean
Coef. S.E. ρ Coef. S.E. ρ Coef. S.E. ρ
Affinity 0.02 0.01 0.02
Antipathy 1 -0.03 0.01 0.04
Altruism 0.00 0.01 0.87
Max-Min 0.68 0.27 0.01
Max-Mean 0.79 0.33 0.02
Margin 0.46 0.40 0.25 0.52 0.40 0.19 0.51 0.40 0.20
Liberal ID 0.82 0.21 0.00 0.81 0.23 0.00 0.81 0.21 0.00
Conservative ID 1.34 0.24 0.00 1.36 0.24 0.00 1.35 0.24 0.00

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NDP ID 0.74 0.24 0.00 0.73 0.24 0.00 0.72 0.24 0.00
Bloc ID 3.34 0.60 0.00 3.39 0.60 0.00 3.39 0.60 0.00
Age 2.22 0.29 0.00 2.21 0.29 0.00 2.21 0.29 0.00
Education 0.68 0.14 0.00 0.67 0.14 0.00 0.77 0.14 0.00
Income 0.76 0.14 0.00 0.77 0.14 0.00 0.77 0.14 0.00
French -0.14 0.16 0.39 -0.17 0.16 0.30 -0.17 0.16 0.30
Female -0.45 0.11 0.00 -0.46 0.11 0.00 -0.45 0.11 0.00
Newspaper 0.57 0.15 0.00 0.55 0.15 0.00 0.56 0.15 0.00
TV News 0.60 0.16 0.00 0.59 0.15 0.00 0.59 0.16 0.00
Internet News -0.50 0.29 0.08 -0.49 0.28 0.08 -0.49 0.28 0.08
Constant -2.05 0.23 0.00 -2.05 0.22 0.00 -2.04 0.22 0.00
N=2035
 Notes
1
This is especially true if we conceive of class membership as a specific instance of a group membership (see,
e.g. Evans 1999; Hout, Brooks and Manza 1993, for accounts of the enduring importance of class).
2
All the following quotes are drawn from the 2006 Canadian federal leaders’ debate, according to the transcript
of the Canadian Press (2006).
3
In this respect, politicians also have an incentive to overstate the size of the group of voters they represent.
The larger the group to which a voter belongs, the more individuals who will benefit from an election win. This
perhaps explains the tendency of voters to overestimate the chances (and thus size) of the parties which they
support (see, e.g. Bartels 1988; Blais and Bodet 2006).
4
These variations likewise cannot be explained by discounted benefits.
5
Fowler and Kam’s assumption of equally sized parties can be seen in both their appendix in which they
formally specify their model and in their analysis in which they evenly weight dictator game allocations.
6
This element could be added to the model. However, it could not be tested with data at just one time point.
Accordingly, I leave it from the model, resting only with the elements that can be tested directly
7
In “Appendix D: Further Results” , I demonstrate that general altruism or concern for others, as measured
in dictator game allocations to completely anonymous individuals, adds no information to the model. Moreover,
it does not affect the general findings of antipathy and affinity mattering for the decision to vote
8 1 N
N∗ N = N = 1.
9
We could add into the left hand side of the model terms for duty, party identification, or some individual
utility derived from voting regardless of the outcome. We could similarly add a negative cost term to reflect the
cost of shame for a group member who does not vote. All of these factors could explain variation in the baseline
probability of any individual voting. This is a case for including relevant control variables in an empirical model.
However, as these variables are not central to the model presented here, I leave them out of the formal discussion.
10
The sample is limited by three factors. First, I eliminate those who have not indicated whether they voted
in the 2006 federal election. Second, I eliminate those whose constituency is not identified. Finally, I eliminate
those for whom values are missing on income and education.
11
To address the higher frequency of voters, I weight my sample to reflect national (rather than provincial or
regional) rates of turnout. I make no corrections within demographic groups. Accordingly, voters receive a weight
of 0.708 and non-voters a weight of 4.08. I have also estimated a rare events logit (King and Zeng 2001) for each
model with corrections for the frequency of the dependent variable, but no McCullagh and Nelder correction or
variance cluster correction. In the case of each model in Table 4, the substantive results remain the same.
12
A related criticism is that the game does not allow subjects to give more than $100 or to take money away
from subjects. This is true and likely leads to some censoring. But this criticism applies with equal felicity to

37
any scale with endpoints, such as a ratings thermometer or a Likert scale.
13
It is possible that some respondents make allocations inconsistent with their preferences, first by allocating
the most to supporters of a party with which they do not identify. I find that 4.1% of respondents meet this
condition. They are retained in the analysis. Substantive results do not change if they are excluded. Partisan
respondents could similarly give more to anonymous individuals than to supporters of their party. This is the
case with 9.9% of partisans, or 6.6% of the entire sample. When these individuals are excluded from the analysis,
substantive results again remain the same. Furthermore, in “Appendix D: Further Results”, I test whether
generally higher allocations to anonymous individuals significantly alter the affects of affinity and antipathy. As
can be seen in that appendix, they do not. Accordingly, I am confident that these results hold and that they
apply to the vast majority of the population.
14
As greater allocations to the supporters of other parties indicate less antipathy, we should expect turnout to
decrease as this variable increases
15
In “Appendix D: Further Results,” I present two other specifications of affinity and antipathy and show how
these likewise predict voter turnout.

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