Political signs spark fond childhood memories

When I was a kid I once found an old Dorothy Jones campaign sign in a ditch near my house. The sign was broken and battered, knocked on its side and covered with leaves, a remnant of an election that had long passed, the outcome of which I can’t claim to remember.

It wasn’t the plastic signs of today, but a rather large and sturdy piece of plywood painted in faded yellow and black, just demanding to be repurposed. Being the resourceful street urchin that I was, I quickly claimed it as mine and hauled it back to the house. The sign soon became an integral part of a poorly conceived and shamefully constructed tree fort, that despite itself clung to the trees for many, many years before the burden of its weight undoubtedly drained the life of one of the structural birches and sent the wooden catastrophe to the ground in what I hope was a striking and dramatic end.

I recently approached one of my favorite local politicians to procure a lawn sign of my own, and joined the many Valley denizens who are bravely decorating their lawns in a kaleidoscope of mostly patriotic colors. The politician was happy to hand over a sign, but as I wandered home I wondered what good it would actually do, aside from being eventually repurposed as a sword and shield by some neighborhood moppet.

It turns out, at least according to a 2011 study carried out by two researchers from Vanderbilt University, that these ubiquitous signs can do quite a bit.

The academics conducted an elegant study that involved a real election, a fake candidate, a handful of lawn signs and a survey. They discovered that after just three days, the group of people driving past the lawn signs were 10 percent more likely to support the fictitious candidate then those who had not encountered the colorful placards. That’s quite an influence and helps explain the great premium placed on high-traffic areas in the Valley and the sometimes dubious quality of our politicians. The authors of the study posited that the campaign sign effect only really comes into play in “low information races” because people want to support likely winners and they don’t have any real information about the candidates. In local races then, positions on issues and party affiliation are less known and therefore less important, and name recognition is the key to success.

It’s an odd thing really, that a simple board with nothing more than a name on it can help someone get elected by their peers to make decisions that affect the course of our communities. So, I was happy to be making a difference and to humbly help an individual of quality get elected as I drove the sign into my lawn with a rock that the road grader insistently keeps returning to my property.

A week later my sign had vanished. Not blown away or otherwise snatched by a force of nature, but stolen from the earth by some local rascal, upset by its vibrant colors or perhaps the font used. I suppose it could have also been an overzealous supporter of my candidate’s opponent, offended by the simple sight of their name and willing to work under the shroud of darkness to carry out a nefarious deed.

There is still a bit of time before the election, so I suppose I will chase the candidate down once more and gather up a new sign. I will do my part to influence my neighbors before they head into the booth to pull the proverbial lever, as I am confident that my choice is a sturdy candidate who will work hard to build a better community. Regardless of the outcome of the election or if the new sign vanishes as its predecessor did, I hope the little placard and stick at least end up in the hands of some creative youth and serves as raw materials for some unpredictable project. It might become part of the roof of a fort, or a plank in a haphazard bridge over some imagined canyon.

To the candidates who bravely put their names on lawns across the valley, I thank you for caring enough about the community to enter the fray; to sacrifice your time and money to hopefully work to make our patch of Alaska a little bit nicer and more just. And on behalf of the children of the Valley, I thank you for saturating our land in building materials of all colors and shades — but next time let’s focus on quality because it’s hard to build a lasting tree fort out of plastic.

Pete LaFrance grew up in Palmer and has moved back to the area after a number of years living abroad.