The Great Voter Eligibility Scramble: How the Philadelphia Founders Fumbled But Ultimately Fumbled Through
Ah, the Philadelphia Convention of 1787. A sweltering summer, a bunch of dudes in powdered wigs (because, hey, air conditioning hadn't been invented yet), and a whole lot of arguing about how to run a fledgling nation. One particularly sticky wicket? Who, exactly, got to vote?
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| How Did The Philadelphia Convention Resolve The Issue Of Voter Eligibility |
The Big State, Small State Showdown
The big states, brimming with citizens (well, free citizens, anyway), wanted voting rights tied to population. The more people you had, the more say you should have, right? The small states, on the other hand, clung to the idea of equality – one state, one vote, regardless of how many folks were milking cows or cobbling shoes within their borders.
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This turned out to be about as popular as a skunk at a picnic. tempers flared, accusations of tyranny flew like rogue pigeons, and the whole thing threatened to descend into a full-blown brawl with quills as weapons (because, again, no guns allowed indoors).
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The Compromise Corral: Enter the Three-Fifths Fudge Factor
Just when it seemed like the convention was headed for a fistfight (between men in tights, mind you – a truly horrifying image), a compromise emerged, glorious and messy like a plate of leftover Thanksgiving stuffing. This glorious fudge factor, known as the Three-Fifths Compromise, counted each slave as three-fifths of a person for the purposes of both taxation and representation. Yes, you read that right. Three-fifths.
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Now, this wasn't exactly a shining moment for logic or morality. But hey, it did the trick! The southern states got a boost in their voting power (thanks to their, ahem, "special population"), and the northern states got a population-based advantage. Everyone kind of walked away muttering under their breath, but at least they weren't throwing inkwells at each other anymore.
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So, Who Could Actually Vote? (Don't Ask About Women or Minorities)
The Constitution itself remained silent on the specific qualifications for voters. That fun little decision was left up to the individual states. In general, voting rights were restricted to white men who owned a certain amount of property. So, basically, if you weren't a wealthy landowning dude, tough luck, Charlie.
This, of course, wasn't the end of the story. The fight for universal suffrage (the right for everyone to vote) would take well over a century. But hey, at least they got the ball rolling... even if it was a bit lopsided and morally questionable at times.
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FAQ: You Got Questions, We Got (Kinda Vague) Answers
How to:
Become eligible to vote in 1787 Philadelphia?
- Be a white man.
- Be a landowner (with enough land to impress your neighbors).
- Don't be a woman, a person of color, or anyone else who wasn't considered a "proper" citizen.
Settle an argument with your friend about the Three-Fifths Compromise?
- It was a messy solution to a complex problem.
- It wasn't exactly fair, but it kept the peace (for a while).
- Tell your friend to google it for a deeper dive.
Actually win a fistfight with a quill?
- We strongly advise against attempting this. Quills are surprisingly sharp, and brawling Founding Fathers sound like a recipe for disaster.
Persuade your time machine to take you back to 1787 Philadelphia to influence the Founding Fathers?
- This might be a bit beyond our area of expertise. Maybe consult a science fiction writer?
Make a time machine in the first place?
- Honestly, that's a whole other conversation. We suggest focusing on registering to vote in the present day. It's much easier (and way less dangerous).
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