The Myth of the Mandate:

Low Turnout Exposes Recall Farce

In the world of local politics, few things are as amusing as watching a vocal minority pat themselves on the back for what they call a resounding victory. On November 4th, the recall of Montrose County Commissioner Mijares (R), has the so-called recall crew crowing about how "the people have spoken." But let's take a closer look at the numbers, shall we? With only 8,439 votes cast to oust Mijares out of 34,187 registered voters, that's a paltry 25% turnout. Hardly the stuff of democratic thunder. This wasn't some overwhelming wave of public outrage; it was more like a ripple in a puddle, ignored by the vast majority who couldn't be bothered to show up. And yet, the recall enthusiasts are out there, preaching as if they've just channeled the will of the entire county. Spare us the dramatics. This outcome says more about apathy than it does about any supposed mandate.

Breaking Down the Voter Numbers: A Tale of Two Elections

To truly appreciate the hollowness of this recall, we need to compare it to Mijares' original election. Back when he first won his seat, Mijares pulled in over 18,000 votes from the registered electorate. Sure, he ran unopposed, but that doesn't diminish the fact that a clear majority turned out and backed him. It was a straightforward affirmation of his position, with voters actively choosing to support him in numbers that dwarf the recall tally.

Fast forward to the recall election, and the picture changes dramatically. Only 8,439 people bothered to vote yes on removing him. That's less than half of what he got initially, and it represents just a quarter of the total registered voters in Montrose County. If this is what the recall crew calls "the people speaking," then they're listening to an echo chamber. The math doesn't lie: 34,187 eligible voters, and three-quarters of them stayed home. Maybe they were busy with life, or perhaps they saw the recall for what it was, a manufactured controversy pushed by a small group with an axe to grind. Either way, claiming this as a popular uprising is about as credible as a politician's promise during campaign season.

Consider the context of low-turnout elections in general. Political scientists have long noted that special elections like recalls often suffer from abysmal participation rates, which skew results toward the most motivated factions. In Montrose, that motivation clearly came from a contingent unhappy with Mijares' decisions. But motivation isn't the same as majority rule. With 25,748 voters sitting this one out, the recall looks less like a democratic triumph and more like a strategic ambush on an off-day. The recall crew might want to frame this as a clear message, but the silence from the majority speaks volumes louder.

The Replacement Riddle: Copeland's Underwhelming Debut

If the recall votes themselves weren't telling enough, let's turn our attention to Mijares' successor, Kirstin Copeland (I). She stepped in unopposed, much like Mijares did in his initial run, but her numbers paint an even bleaker picture of voter enthusiasm. Copeland managed to scrape together just 7,963 votes. That's fewer than the yes votes on the recall itself, which is saying something. But here's the kicker: there were 8,687 undervotes in her race. For those not steeped in election jargon, undervotes mean ballots cast where voters deliberately skipped that particular race. In plain English, more people chose not to vote for Copeland than actually supported her.

What does this say about the recall effort? It screams that even among those who showed up to boot Mijares, there wasn't overwhelming excitement for his replacement. If the recall was truly about ushering in a new era of leadership that resonated with the county, you'd expect Copeland to ride a wave of support. Instead, she barely cleared the bar set by apathy. Over 8,000 people looked at her name on the ballot and essentially said, "Nah, pass." That's not a ringing endorsement; it's a shrug at best.

This undervote phenomenon isn't unique to Montrose, but it highlights a broader issue in recall elections. When voters are dragged to the polls for a single-issue vote, they often disengage from the rest of the ballot. In Copeland's case, it suggests that the recall wasn't driven by a groundswell of support for her vision, but rather by opposition to Mijares. And with such tepid backing, how can anyone seriously argue that this represents the will of the people? The recall crew's narrative crumbles under the weight of these facts, revealing their "victory" as little more than a participation trophy in a game most folks didn't play.

The Bigger Picture: Apathy Over Outrage

Stepping back, it's clear that the Montrose recall wasn't the seismic shift its proponents want us to believe. The majority of the county, by a wide margin, opted out entirely. This isn't democracy in action; it's democracy on snooze. While the recall crew busies itself with self-congratulatory speeches, the real story is the disengagement of everyday residents. Perhaps they trusted the system enough not to intervene, or maybe they viewed the whole affair as political theater unworthy of their time. Whatever the reason, 75% abstention rate undermines any claim to a mandate.

Moreover, this recall fits into a pattern seen in other low-stakes elections across Colorado and beyond. Special elections notoriously favor organized groups who can mobilize their base, while the general public tunes out. In Montrose, that base was evidently conservative voters with specific grievances. But grievances aren't governance. With only a fraction of the electorate weighing in, the result feels more like a coup by the committed than a reflection of community consensus. The sanctimonious talk from the recall side about representing "the people" rings especially hollow when "the people" mostly chose silence.

Conservative Gains Elsewhere

That said, it's worth noting that conservatives did flex their muscles in other parts of the ballot. In the school board races, library issues, and City Charter Amendments, enough conservative voters turned out to install a strong conservative school board, fend off liberal library funding, and questionable city charter amendments. This ensured that educational policies would align more closely with traditional values. It's a win, no doubt, and it shows that when issues hit close to home, like the handling of kids' education, motivation spikes.

Wrapping Up the Recall Ridicule

In the end, the Montrose County recall of Commissioner Mijares stands as a textbook example of how low turnout can distort reality. With just 8,439 votes deciding his fate out of over 34,000 possible, it's absurd to call this a mandate or a “voice of the people”. Mijares' original election drew double the support, and his replacement couldn't even outpace the number of no-shows on her own ballot. The recall crew's boasts come off as nothing more than overinflated ego, ignoring the glaring fact that most of Montrose sat this one out.

If anything, this episode should serve as a warning for future political maneuvers. True change comes from engaging the masses, not exploiting their absence. Until recalls can muster something resembling actual participation, spare us the lectures on democracy.

Michael J Badagliacco, “MJB”

Michael is a father of five, grandfather of three, United States Air Force veteran, international recording artist, and Editor-in-Chief of the Colorado DOGE Report. He is passionate about the United States of America and the founders’ genius in crafting the Constitution.