Everyone’s vote is important, but thanks to the Electoral College, some votes in America matter more than others’. In election years past, we often heard about a key bloc that candidates needed to win over—think Soccer Moms in the 1990s and Nascar Dads in the 2000s. Now, in an increasingly diverse (yet polarized) country slogging through both a pandemic and an economic crisis, whose votes do Donald Trump and Joe Biden need most? Pollsters and analysts helped us identify nine groups who will likely determine the outcome of 2020.

The people profiled here don’t necessarily represent large swaths of the electorate. As in 2016, a razor-thin margin—even a fraction of 1%—in a few swing states counts for more than a wall of blue in California or of red in Oklahoma. In the battleground state of Florida, for instance, Puerto Ricans who moved to the state following Hurricane Maria may have outsize importance. In other swing states, “Double Haters”—voters who are cool on both main candidates—could be pivotal, but only if they turn out. And will the votes of “Shy Trumpers” cancel out the votes of “Swinging Seniors” who say they’ll desert the president for Biden?
Despite the range of opinions expressed by these voters, one shared by many is that neither of the major parties speaks for them. “I’m a Republican mostly in the fiscal sense. I align more closely with the Democratic philosophy on social issues,” says Robin Schelstraete, a voter in Nebraska. “It’s always a struggle for me to vote, because I feel like there isn’t a party that I’m 100% in line with.” Many also said they craved a sense of national unity. “The thing that concerns me most right now are the divisions that exist, the extremes,” says Don Phillips, a retiree who lives in Florida and North Carolina. “We just can’t get together and get anything done. If this pandemic can’t unite us, I don’t know what can.”
In 2016 the Trump and Clinton campaigns competed vigorously for an unlikely group: people who disliked both candidates but were still likely to vote. Trump’s campaign dubbed them Double Haters, and in the closing days they broke decisively for him. This year, the Double Haters could once again factor heavily in the race—however, voters with unfavorable views of Trump and Joe Biden are an entirely different group than last time. A Civiqs tracking poll finds that they’re primarily young, disillusioned progressives who, if they voted in the Democratic primaries, went overwhelmingly for Bernie Sanders (69%). Many don’t identify as Democrats, or do so reluctantly: 52% are independents, 40% are Democrats, and 8% are Republicans. But Biden is in a much stronger position with these hostile voters than Clinton was four years ago. Civiqs finds that Double Haters prefer Biden over Trump 58% to 4%. The rest say they’re voting for someone else or are unsure who they’ll vote for. —Joshua Green
“[Biden] supports essentially none of the positions that I do. I’m not interested in voting for the lesser of two evils if that ‘lesser evil’ will continually get more evil.”
“I’m a high school teacher. I work in low-income neighborhoods. In Houston, Covid has been awful. I’m no fan of Biden’s. But at least he acknowledges it’s an issue and doesn’t try to pretend that it’s not happening. When I vote, I’ll be looking at it through the lens of doing the right things for my kids, not just for me. They can’t vote. But if they could, what would they be worried about?”

“Biden isn’t making any real attempts to bring the left into his coalition. At a time where protests are happening across the country to highlight systemic racism, he refuses to support legalizing marijuana, [which has been] a catalyst for the mass incarceration of people of color. At a time in which millions of people are losing health care due to losing their jobs because of Covid, he refuses to support Medicare for All. If Biden doesn’t move left, he should not feel entitled to support from the left.”

“With Biden, I feel like we’re on repeat from 2016. We’re getting a centrist from the old guard of the Democratic Party who won’t make concessions, when I think we need major change. I’m conflicted, because I know some things would be better under Biden. As a member of the LGBT community, my rights could be threatened if the margin on the Supreme Court tilts any more toward conservatives. Living in a swing state like North Carolina does weigh on me a lot, because ultimately just a few people’s votes could end up deciding the election—and if Trump were reelected, I’d feel pretty torn up.”
In 2016, Trump’s data analysts posited a group of voters who liked him and intended to vote for him, but were too embarrassed to admit their preference to pollsters. Trump did, indeed, overperform relative to polls in 2016. Was it because of “Shy Trumpers”? There’s debate about whether Shy Trumpers still exist—or ever did. Some people think they were there in 2016 but vanished, because whatever social penalty applied to supporting Trump disappeared once the Republican Party embraced him. Others think the Shy Trumper effect was the result of bad polling that’s since been corrected. Still others, including the Trump campaign, think these bashful supporters endure. If that’s true, they could once again tip a close race. —Fola Akinnibi, Amanda Albright, and Kelsey Butler

“There are so many people who feel so shamed, or that they don’t belong, or are afraid to share their views, because the other side has come out and said, ‘You’re not allowed to think like that, you’re not allowed to say that, you’re not allowed to vote for this person.’ It’s that type of language. I’ve seen it a lot over the past three months with politicizing the virus, politicizing medicine, and Black Lives Matter and police.
“I’ve lost a friend. When Brexit was happening, he started complaining and said the votes have to be rigged and this can’t be real. I said, ‘For you to be in this box and to ignore other people’s views, it just shows how blind a liberal you are,’ and he got very offended that I called him a blind liberal and unfriended me everywhere. I haven’t talked to him since.
“You can push back with your mouth and you can push back with your vote. I’m not allowed to say anything anymore. I’m not allowed to share my views, share my thoughts. I think that’s a really sad state of affairs that we’re in.”
“I am pro-America, I’m pro-capitalism. I do not believe in big government, nor socialism. I do not believe in a culture of government dependency, but I do believe in helping those less fortunate, especially in times of need. With that, I do believe in the free market, and I believe it’s historically been proven to promote prosperity. I plan to vote for Trump, because I believe he is the best candidate to provide and set us up for a prosperous future.”
“My top issue is definitely abortion. Admittedly, in [Trump’s] history he wasn’t really the most pro-life person around. But I think it was the third debate in 2016, [he] was probably one of the first presidential candidates to speak so boldly about the horrors of partial-birth abortion. And then, for the most part through his presidency, he has kept every pro-life campaign promise he made.
“I think one point [that people get wrong about Trump supporters] is just assuming that they’re White supremacists. I’m not White, I’m Hispanic. My mother is from Colombia, she immigrated here legally. My dad’s from Uruguay, he immigrated here legally. And I guess I’m not exactly a White person, and I’m a Trump supporter. There are plenty of people out there who aren’t White who support Trump. And also [people wrongly assume] that they’re uneducated—because I’m very educated. I have a master’s degree in moral theology. It seems just like there’s the assumption that Trump supporters are in general hateful people, that they hate women, or gay people or Muslim people.”
“When I was younger, I worked in an industry where I was the lone conservative with a bunch of more liberal-leaning people. And every day we would talk political stuff, and it was so much fun. That was back when you could talk politics with people and actually disagree, and we still loved each other. And that’s not the case now. There’s a really good family friend of ours, that if I told him I was a Trump supporter, he would stop being our friend, and that hurts me.”
Political analysts have been puzzled by an anomaly in Trump’s polling support. A steady series of polls has shown that more voters approve of his policies than plan to vote for him in November. This is unprecedented in recent political history. Approval ratings have always run even with voting intent, which intuitively makes sense: If you approve of a president’s policies, you’ll probably vote for them again. Pollsters have speculated about what accounts for this gap, and the likeliest explanation is “Tired Trumpers”—Republicans and independents who liked the good economy, liked Trump’s judges, and initially liked the idea that he’d come to Washington and shake things up, but have grown exhausted by and disillusioned with his behavior. If the president can’t find a way to revivify this group, he may be toast. —Esmé E. Deprez, Bryan Gruley, and Mark Niquette

“I like most of the things that he’s done. I wish he could find a little bit kinder and gentler way to do some of them, though. I think Mr. Trump opens his mouth before he thinks about what he’s going to say, and I wish that he would or could change that—and I don’t think he can. I don’t think that’s ever going to happen.
“He would have a better chance of getting his point across if he catered more to the moderate voter out there.
“I think Biden will have an edge in some states. And I think that some of that is Trump’s fault, and I think some of it is not. I certainly don’t think we can blame this virus on any one person or party.”
“[Trump] isn’t in this for the country, he’s in it for himself. I’m just sorry we don’t have a better person to get behind. Maybe I won’t even vote at all. I’m a conservative, I believe in conservative values. I think there are people out here who are good leaders, but I don’t think Trump is interested in leading the country. It’s just a shame, because we don’t have an alternative. I’m not going to vote for Joe Biden. That’s not a better option.”
“His rhetoric is awful. People say he punches back, but he's the most powerful person in the world—you don't really have to go after this person and that person who’s below you. I just think it's childish and unnecessary.
“The pandemic response has been very, very bad—the nail in the coffin of why I wouldn’t vote for him.”
“In 2016, I just felt I had to vote for Trump. I just couldn’t stand the thought of Hillary being president.
“I liked the fact that [Trump] was a businessman, and I thought the country needed a leader who wasn’t really a politician but a businessman, so he could bring that perspective. I wish to this day he would stay off social media and maybe think things through better before he opens his mouth. It’s given me a reason to rethink this time around.
“I probably would have voted for Biden last time around. What makes me hesitate this time is, I’m not sure he’s capable of it. He doesn’t seem to be able to gather his thoughts well enough to run the country. I’m worried about his mental state, to be honest. I would love to see a debate.
“I think from the beginning, Trump said he was going to handle [the pandemic], and then it seemed like the governors wanted to make their own decisions, and he stepped back. And now he’s being criticized unfairly for that.”
“My desire was that Trump was going to return to being the real estate developer from the ’80s. My concern was that we were going to get the game show host. We got the game show host.”
The protests this summer that followed George Floyd’s killing by a police officer in Minneapolis have already changed Americans’ political attitudes on issues of racism and police violence. Will they also activate a new wave of voters? There’s evidence to suggest they might. As Floyd’s family and others encouraged protesters to register, some Democratic data groups saw an increase in the number of people registering and volunteering. Strong support for Black progressive candidates like Jamaal Bowman and Mondaire Jones in Democratic primaries is another indication of this group’s potential power. But will they turn out for a 77-year-old White man who authored the 1994 crime bill and his running mate, a former prosecutor? The answer could be pivotal in key battleground states from Georgia to Arizona. —Suma Hussien, Polly Mosendz, and Linda Poon
“How does an African—I’m first-generation Nigerian American, I wasn’t born in America—who hasn’t experienced the same things that Black Americans face, how do you get involved in something from the inside that you don’t feel you're a part of? But then you realize, ‘Hey, you’re as Black as the next person. It doesn’t matter.’ And it goes to show that we’re all in this together. If I live in this country, I just have to be active.
“The same day that George Floyd had passed, Dion Johnson here in Phoenix was shot by police officers. So I went to that vigil, and that was my first vigil and protest ever—even when I did vote and I knew there were protests going on with Black Lives Matter and things of that nature. I just never put myself in that space.
“I went to that vigil and my first protest. I’m like, ‘OK, how do I get involved?’ I had a friend who met me at another protest, and she introduced me to [someone] who is actually running for a legislative seat. I talked to him, and he connected me with a pastor who is very active in the community.
“I spoke at my first city council meeting last Thursday, and I had a comment because they were trying to raise the police budget from $500 million to $745 million. We’re still in Covid, there’s homelessness, affordable living [and] mental health issues, and yet you’re giving the police force more money—for what, I don’t understand—as people are dying.
“I’m a progressive Democrat, so I’m on that side of the playing field. I’m all for seeing change for everybody—Black, indigenous, Hispanic, the LGBTQ community. We have a diverse America now, so we need new faces. So I’m voting for Joe because obviously he makes more sense than Trump.”

“I’m really excited to vote in November, since it’s my first general election, and I’m planning to vote for Democrats up and down the ballot. I’m especially excited to vote in my state legislature races. Something that’s really important to me is voting rights and making sure everyone can have their voice heard in their election. I saw how close Stacey Abrams came to being our governor and the role that voter suppression had [in the Georgia gubernatorial election in 2018]. I’ve become really passionate about electing people that protect our voting rights.”

“If fighting for Black lives is radical, then I’m radical. If fighting for Medicare for All is radical, I’m radical. If fighting for the Green New Deal is radical, I’m radical. This movement awakened a new generation of revolutionaries.”

“I’m voting for Biden and Kamala [Harris] because, you know, Trump getting another four years is going to be detrimental to my community and my identity as a Black woman. It’s going to be detrimental to immigrants, trans people everywhere. So, yeah, that’s unfortunately my only option. I don’t agree with a lot of Biden’s choices and some of Kamala’s choices in the past as well.”

“This spring we saw Ahmaud Arbery, then we saw Breonna Taylor, then we saw George Floyd die. No, let’s be clear, murdered. So I hit the streets like everybody else.
“At the root of it, the demands are basic. To stop killing us and to stop upholding the systems that have been enslaving and killing us for the last 400 years.
“I think we’ve all genuinely been through some severe suffering in the last four years with [Trump]. And I don’t think that’s something that any of us want to go through again. And I think because of that, it is going to push more people out to vote. But I think also because our nominees are both shitty people that [some young] people are very hesitant.
“This is no longer snack time in the third grade. This isn’t just, ‘You get what you get, and you don’t get upset.’ We have the power to make sure this Cheeto doesn’t get back in office. We have the literal power.”
There's little chance Trump will win over the majority of Black and Latino voters as he seeks reelection. His prospects of attracting people of color were slim even before Biden tapped California Senator Kamala Harris to be his running mate. Harris’s status as the first Black woman and first Asian American to be on a major party’s presidential ticket is likely to excite an electorate hungry for more diverse faces in Washington. Yet Trump has always made the case that it’s Democrats who have taken Black and Hispanic Americans for granted while failing to deliver on the goals they have long promised: jobs that pay, schools that work, and a criminal justice system that’s fair. In 2016, Trump won 8% of Black voters and 28% of Hispanic voters, outdoing former Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney’s performance among those groups in 2012. Support for Trump from minorities has been particularly high among young men and those without a college degree, says American University professor David Barker, who recently released a study on Black voters. The Trump campaign is betting that this year he can gain even more traction. —Naomi Nix

“I remember what led me to Trump. There was a debate, and they had I think seven guys left and they put Trump in the middle—I’m sure to try to make him look silly being surrounded by six career-long politicians. The [moderator] asked the question in the very beginning: If you were not the one chosen to represent the Republican Party, raise your hand if you would step out and support whoever was nominated. Every single person raised their hand except for Donald Trump. He said, ‘I’m not running for the Republican Party’s nomination. I’m running for the American people.’ And it was such a different move than what every other politician would do, would be willing to do, which is bow to their party. It was refreshing.”
“I wanted a candidate who would take his thumb and literally stick it in the eye of the average politician. I wanted some guy who would fight for me, who I could count on. Now, Trump isn’t a politician. He doesn’t know how to speak political talk. That attracted me to him. I like the fact that he fights. I like the fact that he’s politically incorrect. I think we have too much political correctness.
“I grew up as a Democrat because that’s what my parents were. That’s what my neighbors were. That’s what my city was. It was never even thought to be a Republican. I want to show people that Black voters are being taken advantage of and for granted. The moment a person can look at you and instantly have a pretty good idea of how you are going to vote, you have lost some power. We need to get our power back because this is our country, too.”

“The first thing that attracted me—that opened my ears up—is when he came to the podium at one of his rallies. He said, ‘You know what, you guys have been voting Democrat for so many years. Your schools are in a bad place. Your neighborhoods are in a bad place. Your education is in a bad place.’ And he spoke into the mic and he said, ‘Vote for me. What do you have to lose?’ I never heard a president saying things like that.”
“I liked his border protection policy. I experienced the wave of illegal immigrants coming into a lot of Black communities. I have [witnessed] a lot of racist stuff that’s happened between Mexicans and Blacks. He was talking about securing up the border. You can’t have a sovereign nation if you don’t have some type of protection.
“I believe [Black Lives Matter] is a fake organization that is around to play on Black people’s emotions in order to get them to donate to the Democratic Party. When little babies die by the hands of another Black person, [the activists] are nowhere to be found. You don’t see them marching in the streets in the South Side or West Side of Chicago.”

“The 2016 presidential election was the first in which I was old enough to vote. I remember checking on my registration status in Georgia and realizing it was too late. So I resigned myself to the decision I had made by putting it off, and didn’t vote.
“The pandemic really quickly hit very close to home for my family. My parents, who were empty nesters, had me and my two sisters all in the house for the first time in seven years. We all started showing symptoms in late March. But my dad just never got better.
“[Doctors] put him on two different drugs, one of them being hydroxychloroquine. He couldn’t sleep, and his heart was racing. It was 1 a.m. on Tuesday morning, and he was visibly not OK. Me and my mom rushed him to the hospital. It turned out once we got there that at some point that night he had been having a heart attack. His main artery to his heart was completely blocked, and they had to operate ASAP.
“We spent the next three weeks living phone call to phone call. And watching the death toll rise every day while he was in the hospital was hard because we knew how highly the odds were stacked against him. That was the same period in which Trump said he’d been taking hydroxychloroquine for weeks, that it was a ‘wonder drug.’ The doctors had told us that could have been the thing that killed my dad. We knew how many other people could potentially be in our shoes, and to have our leader promoting bad science was really maddening.
“They tried to exit my dad from the ventilator once or twice, but he had to be put back on because his oxygen levels just got too low. At one point, six doctors were standing over him, asking themselves, ‘What are we going to do?’ because he was dying. But he turned a corner, and we were victorious after that hellish month of April.
“I’m just incredibly frustrated that we’ve managed to politicize what should be a simple, black and white, scientific and humane topic. My family’s experience has only solidified my resolve to engage more politically, vote in November, and start having these uncomfortable conversations with fellow community members.”
“My first presidential election was 1976. I voted for Ford. I've voted Republican ever since. This will be the first year I vote for a Democrat. Trump had an opportunity to do some good things, to show some leadership, with the pandemic. But if you could pick the wrong steps someone could make, he’s been making them.
“The piecemeal approach has been bad. I have a 14-year-old son; I’m struggling with sending him to school or not. I struggle with it because he could bring the disease home that would affect me, as someone immunocompromised, having received a heart transplant.”
“I'm socially liberal, fiscally conservative, and I've never voted for a Democrat in a presidential election. In 2016, I didn't vote for either Clinton or Trump.
“Trump could be saying, ‘Let's figure this out,’ and uniting the country against the coronavirus, and he'd probably win the election. Instead, he continues to promote fear and divisiveness around the pandemic, pitting people against each other, including families and friends. In 2020, I will not be voting for Trump and I hope that's a wake-up call for the Republican Party.”
In recent years, no group of voters has been more solidly Republican than seniors—especially White seniors. A Harvard University study found that, in 2016, Trump won senior voters by 13 points overall, while exit polls show he won White senior voters by 20 points. But that strength has vanished. No group has swung harder to Biden than seniors. Most recent polling shows Trump and Biden roughly tied among 65+ voters. And because seniors are overrepresented in battleground states such as Florida, Arizona, and Michigan, they could prove to be the key deciders in the election—if they stick with Biden and don’t swing back to Trump before November. —Michael Smith
“I am what I consider a fairly standard Republican. I am pro-life. I also believe that compassionate and controlled capitalism is the best economic model. So, for those reasons I voted for Mr. Trump. It was very refreshing that he was using Twitter. You got to see what he was saying without spin. However, Mr. Trump seems to spin everything to be about himself.
“He has caused an even greater polarization between the two major parties than there was. This is a tragedy, it’s stupid, it causes our lawmakers to be doing lots of things but not looking out for us.
“Unfortunately, it becomes a choice between a dangerous megalomaniac who does not seem to respect any boundaries and someone who represents a party who is for murdering babies. Mr. Biden himself, historically, apparently has been against abortion. [In 1973, Biden said the Supreme Court went “too far” in its Roe v. Wade decision, and in the 1980s and 1990s he voted against federal funding for abortion and procedures abortion opponents refer to as “partial-birth” abortion; this year Biden reversed his position on federal funding and said he supports codifying Roe v. Wade as federal law.] So we’ll take a chance and vote for Mr. Biden. But I will probably, when in doubt, vote for Republicans elsewhere.”

“I am about the worst thing for Trump. I am 68, a senior in a swing state, North Carolina, and I voted for him in 2016. And I supported many of the things he has done. But no way will I vote for him in 2020. It’s just been too much. Every day has been like a wild ride.
“On one side are the behavioral issues. He’s a sociopath, a liar, a narcissist, and a bully. Then you add to that the fact that he has shown, in my opinion, zero leadership in the two biggest crises he has faced as president: the Covid pandemic and the racial crisis after the killing of George Floyd.
“I’m a conservative, very Republican. I have supported his tax cuts, his reduced regulatory regime, his energy policy, and his Supreme Court nominees. I have supported all of this. But I look at this and wonder how can I explain to my grandchildren. I want to say I voted for someone who will make America a better place. And that is not Trump. As for Joe Biden, I think he is a decent and honorable man. We need someone who can bring this country together.”
“I would say I reluctantly voted for [Trump in 2016]. I traditionally voted Democratic. I would never vote for him again. It’s just the way he conducts himself personally. All the juvenile name-calling, the insults. I don’t know if he’s a racist. I just think there’s a lot of bluster and not a lot of getting things done. It turns out that a lot of the things he promised to do, in his platform, he’s not done. The idea of blaming other presidents, other people, and never taking any responsibility, doesn’t sit well with me at all.
“I am comfortable voting for Biden. I think he’s had a long, distinguished career. I wish he were younger, but he’s not. Given the two choices, I definitely favor Biden. They try to make him out to be a senile old fool; I don’t think he is. He’s got the experience. I think he’s calm. I think he cares about people.”
After Hurricane Maria devastated Puerto Rico in 2017, the extended
suffering
caused an exodus. About 400,000 Puerto Ricans
relocated to Florida,
many settling around Orlando and altering the political composition of a perennial swing state. Puerto Ricans now rival Cubans as the state’s largest Latino group. A Republican pollster says that if two-thirds of the 400,000 had participated in the 2016 election and voted as polls suggest they would have (favoring Democrats over Republicans 70% to 30%), Trump wouldn’t have won Florida.
Democrats have scrambled to register Puerto Rican transplants and turn them out. In Miami and Tampa, Biden’s Spanish-language ads feature a narrator with a Cuban accent, but in the Orlando market, the narrator’s accent is Puerto Rican. However, modeling conducted by the Florida Democratic Party found that 220,000 of these new Floridians aren’t yet registered. And getting them to the polls will be tricky. Many struggle to find steady jobs and housing. Others are working multiple jobs or navigating language barriers. All have endured stressful migrations. The Covid-19 pandemic is an added hurdle.
“I came eight months after Maria. There was nowhere on the island I could go and find a good job. It’s expensive here. I got a full-time job at Disney and still had to get an extra part-time job to pay the security deposit on an apartment. It’s crazy, but I consider myself really lucky.
“I’m a Fairy Godmother at Disney World in Cinderella’s Castle. It’s literally my dream job. The little girls come in, and we transform them into princesses, give them the royal treatment: hair, dress, nails. At the end we turn them around, and it’s super beautiful to see their little faces react.
“At first, I was shocked by Covid. At Disney, we didn’t want to believe it because we have so many contacts with people around the world. It was so stressful when things shut down. Disney is reopened, but my job is not open yet. Now it’s getting to the point where I’m getting anxiety and depression again. How am I going to survive on $200 a week?”

“We thought it would be easier for the family in Florida. It’s still been hard. At first we had to walk because we didn’t know the bus system. I wrote a hip-hop song about being homesick and missing Puerto Rico that got onto the radio station and gave me a good start. I told my wife, ‘The Spanish ads you hear on the radio here are really bad.’ I thought, I can do this better. So we started a production company.
“We work all the time, but my girls are in a good school. We just bought a house. I joined the Chamber of Commerce—I’m the only hip-hop artist! I guess it’s the American dream. I’m still thinking about who to vote for.”

“I want to feel—as a Hispanic, a Puerto Rican, and a Latina—heard and noticed. I want equality. I don’t want to be treated like I’m not an American citizen.”
“I’m not happy with Trump. When he visited Puerto Rico, he threw paper towels at us—I feel like he mocked us and disrespected us. He didn’t seem to care about all the people who died during the hurricane. As a president, he hasn’t been responsible and hasn’t manned up.”
In 2018, Florida voters passed a ballot initiative, Amendment 4, that restored voting rights to 1.4 million residents who had previously been convicted of a felony. It looked like a milestone for voting rights: Almost 1 in 5 Black adults in the state was unable to vote. If even a portion of this population availed itself of the chance to vote, it could alter Florida election outcomes, perhaps decisively.
But last year the Republican-led state legislature and Republican Governor Ron DeSantis teamed up to pass a bill undermining Amendment 4 by requiring ex-felons to repay all outstanding fines and judicial fees to be registered to vote. Estimates suggest 1 million ex-felons, who collectively owe about $1 billion, could be barred from voting unless they repay their fines (difficult to do, since no central state database tracks delinquent debts). Civil-rights groups called the new law an unconstitutional “poll tax” and sued to stop it. In May a U.S. district judge condemned Florida’s “pay-to-vote system” and ruled the state couldn’t prohibit ex-felons from voting. But in July a federal appeals court halted the group’s voter registration, granting DeSantis’s request, and weeks later the U.S. Supreme Court chose not to intervene.
Despite Republican efforts, some ex-felons will still be able to vote this fall—although no one is sure how many will turn out. —Joshua Green

“I actually have a voter registration card and was able to vote in a local election here several months ago, before the appeal happened. Then they took my voting rights away for a second time. I’m still trying to find out exactly how much I owe [in fines or fees]. It’s pay-for-play, pure politics.
“We’re regular people. We’re not crazed maniacs. Yes, I did serve time. But I have a family, I’m a father, a son, a grandparent now. I’m just a regular person. I want to be regular again.”
“I got my right to vote back when my sentence was overturned in 1998. My case is different than a lot of others: I never had any fines.
“To vote means a lot to me because it’s saying that I have a voice, I have a say in what’s going on in this country. And I should. Since I got out, I’ve just been putting my head to something that’s legal and that’s right. But I’ll be honest, it’s been a struggle. Even the truck driving—I had a school tell me that nobody would hire me, being a convicted felon. But my mom taught me, ‘Always know how to sell yourself.’ I told the gentlemen, ‘You just give me the license, I’ll worry about the job.’ And I got hired the same day.”

“Being honest with you, I don’t like either Biden or Trump. Biden signed the ’94 crime bill, which put a lot of people in jail. A lot of people did a lot of life sentences. Trump signed the Fair Sentencing Act, which released a lot of those people.
"If I’m able to vote, I have a say in what happens in what is going on in the world: how my taxes are spent, how the government functions, what they do and how it’s done. My vote is just one vote, but my one vote can change how the local school board or the sheriff’s department is run. I look to the examples of Congressman John Lewis and Martin Luther King Jr.: An obstacle is an opportunity.”
(After this story appeared, Bloomberg Businessweek learned that in 2017 Naresh Vissa self-published a book called “Trumpbook: How Digital Liberals Silenced a Nation Into Making Americans Hate Again.” He should not have been included in the Shy Trumpers category. An earlier version of this story updated Civiqs’s polling numbers for Double Haters.)