Political speed-dating in New Hampshire

SPEND MORE than ten minutes talking to a political junkie in New Hampshire, and you will hear some version of this old chestnut: Ask a New Hampshirite if he plans to vote for Candidate X for president, and he’ll say, “I don’t know; I’ve only seen her three times.” The Granite State holds the first presidential primary (Iowa selects a candidate a week earlier, but through caucuses rather than an election), so voters there expect, and receive in profusion, face-to-face contact with anyone who wants their vote. During a recent five-day stretch, eight candidates popped up across the state, their appearances fostered by groups of dedicated local volunteers. This fits well with the state’s political culture, which is equal parts charming and lunatic.

Larry Drake, who chairs the Rockingham County Democrats, a Republican-leaning region in the state’s south-eastern corner, and reckons he has seen 15 declared and prospective candidates so far in this cycle, explains that New Hampshire has kept its methods of political administration relatively unchanged for the past few centuries. To ensure that ordinary citizens can take part in the political process, the state begins its legislative sessions in winter, when farms lie fallow. The bedrock political entity is the town rather than the county or region and, as in much of New England, town Boards of Selectmen—in effect, powerful city councils—make virtually all political decisions. State legislators’ pay was set at $100 a year in 1889, and there it has remained.