Philosophy of the Void

Rational choice theory in political science has made much of the fact
that it is seemingly irrational to vote in a large-scale
election.  This is because the probability that your single vote
will determine the outcome is generally very close to zero, while the
act of voting entails some small but real costs.  Even in a close
election like Florida in 2000, an individual’s vote would really
“count” only if the margin of victory was exactly one vote.  

I wonder if we couldn’t improve the political system by actually
associating individual votes with real value.  One way to do this
would be to tie the financial compensation an elected official receives
with the number of votes received in the most recent election. 
Another way would be to do the same with some element of political
authority.  For example, the Congressional two-thirds majority
currently needed to override a Presidential veto could be increased or
decreased as a function of the percentage of the popular or electoral
college votes the President received.  Using electoral college
votes as an example, George W. Bush won in 2000 with only about 50%,
whereas Ronald Reagan won in 1984 with nearly 98%.  Using this
number in place of the standard two-thirds would give greater force to
what is usually called a “popular mandate.”  The President who
wins with overwhelming popular support would actually be given greater
control over national policy, albeit within limits.  Putting this
type of mechanism in place would benefit voters by giving political
officials an incentive to work for votes beyond the threshold (usually
50%) required to enter office. 

When I approach something new, I always seem to behave the same
way.  First, I will try a lot of different things, particularly
things I find exotic.  If I don’t find something I like, this will
tend to go on for a long time.  If I find something I like (and
usually this won’t take very long), I will stick with it indefinitely
in a very stubborn, repetitive way.  I can think of several
examples.  When I was in grade school, I came to be fascinated
with those cool pencil cases that had hidden gadgets (thermometer,
magnifying glass, pencil sharpener, etc.) in them that you could
release by pushing little buttons.  I finally got one when I was
in third or fourth grade.  All the gadgets were busted by middle
school, but ended up keeping it through high school.  When I first
started listening to pop music, I was in Japan, and the first CD I
listened to was by Mr. Children. 
I liked their music, and my friends will tell you that I follow this
band like a cult nearly a decade later.  When I was an
undergraduate, I started drinking coffee.  After a while, I
decided that I like tall mochas with a touch of whip cream and vanilla
essence.  The folks at the local coffee shop start making this the
moment I walk in the door now.  On the other end of the spectrum
are things like alcoholic and carbonated beverages, authors,
philosophers, U.S. Presidents, and conspiracy theories, for which I’ve
never really found a favorite.  

I wonder why people develop favorites.  Favorites range from those
that make you who you are - significant others, friends, religions - to
those that seem pretty trivial - brand name clothing, TV shows, pencil
cases.  What determines the things we develop favorites for and
the things we don’t really care about?  I suppose it’s a lot of
coincidence and some natural proclivity.  You could say human
beings are the face of randomness.  I guess orderly thought is
necessary to reach an understanding of that though.