Local research group gives power to the people

Kirk Baird

Wednesday, Oct. 18, 2000 | 8:57 a.m.

James Medick remembers it as if it were yesterday.

At a recent Las Vegas Republican fund-raiser, former first lady Barbara Bush was stumping for her son, Republican presidential candidate George W. Bush. There, Medick was introduced to the crowd as a pollster.

"One of 'those guys,' " he joked.

Later, as she approached Medick to greet him, the first lady remembered his face and occupation.

"I just want you to know we will not run this administration based on polls," Medick recalled her saying to him, as she poked his chest to get across the message.

He said he never did get the chance to explain to her that he isn't a pollster, but rather the managing director of MRCGroup, a local research organization that deals with focus groups and data collection over the phone.

Don't see the difference?

Well, imagine calling Tiger Woods a baseball player. Sure, he's an athlete and hits a white ball with a stick, but that's where the similarities end.

Medick and MRCGroup, an umbrella business for MRCFocus and MRCPhone, deal only in research for clients, which can include movie studios, Fortune 500 companies, elected officials and government agencies -- anyone who wants to test a product, gather statistical data or find out what a target group thinks.

But despite the error in describing Medick's vocation, Bush's statement rings true.

Polling has become a matter of survival for today's astute politician. President Clinton, for example, has built an administration around the prevailing winds of the latest information Gallup and other polling agencies have to offer on public opinion.

"Both parties use the polls and use them greatly," Medick said. "I don't know if they're ruled by the polls, but they are guided by them."

So, as part of a publicity effort to attract attention from the media, as well as to throw their civic-minded hats into the election process, the MRCGroup put together a 48-person group of participants to watch the first two presidential debates between Vice President Al Gore and Texas Gov. Bush.

The group, called "respondents," was selected through the company's database of nearly 10,000 Las Vegans, which was gathered through its website, mrcgroup.com, and referrals.

They were screened to see whether they'd already chosen a candidate. If so, they were "terminated," Medick joked, meaning they were told they wouldn't be used for the process. If they hadn't made up their minds, they were added to a list of potential respondents.

The idea, Medick said, was to get an even age split -- between 18 and 64 -- of both men and women who remained uncommitted about whom they will vote for come Nov. 7. On the night of the second debate, Oct. 11, 19 said they were leaning toward Gore, 19 said they favored Bush and 10 were undecided, which, Medick said, was a reflection of the latest polls.

Be counted

As the time for the debate approached, the 48 participants (including this reporter) gathered in a small, tiered theater and settled into five rows of chairs.

Attached near the bottom of each seat was a wired black box called a ViewTrac Dial. The palm-size device had a keypad similar to that of a telephone, only with green and red buttons where the star and pound signs would be.

Below was a turn knob that could be adjusted to point to a double minus or double plus, and anywhere in between, with the middle being neutral territory.

The ViewTrac Dial is what the MRCGroup uses when screening movies or TV pilots. It allows instantaneous feedback from respondents about how they feel at any given time. Obviously, the better someone feels, the more he or she will turn the knob toward the plus signs, and vice versa.

Unlike rendering a verdict on the ending of a film or how funny a new TV show is, we "graded" the candidates on what they said, how they said it and how we felt about it with a turn of the knob.

And if you really liked what one politician had to say, you hit the green button, meaning you'd vote for him based on that answer. However, if something he said really turned you off, then you go for the dreaded red button, meaning he lost your vote.

Talk about instant gratification.

The results from our knob dialing and button pushing were then sent to a computer, which processed the information.

Meanwhile Medick and a handful of others -- including local media -- settled into the "viewing room," which was separated from the theater by a one-way mirror. There they watched and tracked the results of the process on overhead monitors, down to the individual respondent. In addition, mikes were set up in the room to pick up and record the sounds of the group.

Before the debate, Medick thanked everyone for participating in a "fun evening; a very important evening." He said that our responses would be broadcast live over the Internet -- something he referred to as "behavioral response tracking."

With that we picked up the ViewTrac Dials and entered a few details about ourselves -- who we were leaning toward voting for or if we remained undecided.

Then the familiar image of Jim Lehrer, debate moderator, appeared on the large projection screen and we were off. For 90 minutes four dozen average citizens punished or praised the politicians.

Holding the box in my hand, I felt a sense of empowerment, but also responsibility. It was almost like I had my finger pressed on "the button," only in this case it was a dial, and I wasn't afraid to use it.

Didn't like Bush's response on gun control? Hit him with a negative. Really didn't like his stance on health care? It's into the double negatives for that answer. If what he said about the United States not being the world's "police force" made sense, give him somewhere between a plus and double plus.

The same thing with Gore: Really liked his stance on same-sex marriages? Maybe give him the green button. Felt he missed the mark on hate crimes? Then give him the red button.

It is democracy in action. It was my chance to make my voice heard, via a gadget reminiscent of a video-game controller, circa 1981.

Dial-a-response

And so it went throughout the debate. As the candidates gave their answers, I felt myself transfixed by their every word, movement or expression.

Pow! Zap! Ka-boom! The old "Batman" TV show had nothing on me.

Then Lehrer announced the debate was nearing an end, which was followed by a sudden gasp from the group, almost an eruption of disbelief.

"Already?" I thought. "It can't be coming to an end -- I'm having too much fun."

This response system proved addictive. Maybe they should offer a Brady Bill-type of legislation for this kind of response system to make sure a person can handle it.

A few more questions, followed by some quick answers and summations, and the process ended -- perhaps all too quickly, judging by some of the responses.

"You have all kinds of subjects in the debate and to get to voice your opinion," Patricia Alderett, 59, said.

Donald Campbell, 42, concurred. "Voting for issues, it gave me a chance to focus more on the subjects," he said. "And I used my dial frequently."

Of course, as much fun as it was, there was a point to the whole process.

Medick said that based on questions presented to the group after the debate, there were no defectors from either camps, but that two previously undecided voters were now backing Bush.

Overall, he said, in the second debate there were higher spikes for Bush, meaning that when respondents agreed with both candidates, they generally gave Bush a higher rating.

But, Medick is quick to point out, there still wasn't enough of an advance by Bush to proclaim he's a shoo-in come Election Day.

Based on what he'd seen in the group, as well as the group that sat in on the first debate, the election is almost a dead heat.

"This election is still down to the wire and it's going to be [up to] the swing votes to make up their minds," Medick said.

Or dial-happy reporters.

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