Data for Progress

Based on Wikipedia: Data for Progress

In November 2022, the executive director of one of the most influential progressive think tanks in Washington, D.C., was forced out by his own staff, not because of a policy failure or a bad poll, but because he had been gambling on the very election results his firm was measuring. Sean McElwee, the co-founder and driving force behind Data for Progress (DFP), resigned amidst a storm of allegations that he had placed bets on PredictIt, a prediction market website, and potentially manipulated polling data to sway outcomes in races where he held a financial stake. The story of Data for Progress is not just a chronicle of a think tank's rise; it is a case study in the collision of data science, political ambition, and the fragile ethics that hold modern democracy together. From its founding in 2018 to its rapid ascent as a power broker within the Democratic Party, and its subsequent scandal, DFP represents a new breed of political entity: a hybrid of polling firm, advocacy group, and media machine, all operating with the speed of a tech startup and the influence of a legacy institution.

To understand the magnitude of Data for Progress, one must first understand the landscape it was built to disrupt. For decades, political polling in the United States was the domain of traditional, often conservative-leaning institutions that relied on probability-based sampling methods. These methods, while statistically rigorous, were slow, expensive, and often failed to capture the shifting tides of a rapidly polarizing electorate. Into this void stepped McElwee, a data scientist and activist, along with computational scientist Colin McAuliffe and political scientist Jon Green. They founded Data for Progress in 2018 with a radical premise: that data could be weaponized not just to measure the public, but to shape it. McElwee envisioned the organization as a "one-stop shop" for the left, a central hub where policy development, rigorous polling, and media strategy would converge to push progressive goals from the fringes into the mainstream.

The organization's early success was immediate and startling. In an era where the Green New Deal was still a fringe concept discussed mostly in academic circles, Data for Progress was one of the first to release a comprehensive report detailing the proposal, providing the intellectual scaffolding that would allow the idea to gain traction. The Atlantic credited the firm with helping to legitimize the Green New Deal before it ever reached a congressional floor. But their influence extended far beyond environmental policy. They tackled voting rights, Medicare for All, drug pricing, and the controversial idea of reallocating defense funds to domestic services. Their blog became a go-to source for policy analysis, attracting contributions from some of the highest-ranking officials in the government, including Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer.

What set DFP apart was its methodology and its audacity. While traditional pollsters were hesitant to publish numbers that might embarrass the party establishment, Data for Progress operated with a distinct progressive bias. They were willing to take risks. In the 2020 race for New York's 16th congressional district, the political establishment was backing the incumbent, Eliot Engel, a veteran Democrat who had been a target of progressive challengers. The mainstream polling consensus was that Engel was safe. Data for Progress, however, released a poll showing the challenger, Jamaal Bowman, leading the incumbent. They were the sole public pollster to project this outcome. When Bowman went on to win the primary in a stunning upset, DFP's reputation was cemented. They were not just observing the political landscape; they were helping to redraw it.

This ability to predict and influence primary elections became their hallmark. In 2021, the firm conducted polling in Arizona that suggested a majority of Democratic voters would support a primary challenge to Senator Kyrsten Sinema due to her opposition to key Biden administration measures. This was not merely academic exercise; it was a signal to the progressive wing of the party that the establishment was vulnerable. The Washington Post covered their polling on the 2020 presidential debates, analyzing how viewers responded to the clash between Donald Trump and Joe Biden. The New York Times even ran a piece titled "Polling's Prognosis: Wary Conservatives and Eager Liberals," noting that while Data for Progress's results were often more accurate than their peers, they relied on "nonprobability methods." These methods, which do not rely on random sampling but rather on recruiting participants through online panels, had not yet gained full acceptance as an industry standard. Critics argued that this reliance made their data susceptible to bias, and indeed, the firm's polls in 2020 underestimated support for Republican candidates, while in the 2022 midterms, they overestimated it. Yet, for the progressive movement, accuracy was secondary to utility. DFP provided the ammunition needed to challenge moderate incumbents and push the party to the left.

The organization's rise was so rapid that it became a subject of fascination in the highest corridors of power. By 2021, a New York Times article highlighted the "coming-of-age moment" for the barely three-year-old firm. The piece revealed that President Joe Biden mentioned Data for Progress in private calls, that the White House was reading its work, and that Chuck Schumer was teaming up with its leaders for news conferences and legislation. This level of access for a start-up think tank was unprecedented. It signaled that the Democratic Party, long dominated by centrist donors and establishment figures, was finally listening to the data-driven arguments of the progressive wing. The embrace of Data for Progress by the highest ranks of the party was a testament to the effectiveness of their strategy: they had proven that their polling could predict outcomes that traditional methods missed, and their policy reports could provide the intellectual foundation for legislative action.

The human element of this rise was embodied by Julian Brave NoiseCat, the organization's vice president of policy and strategy. In 2021, NoiseCat was named to Time magazine's Time 100 Next list of emerging global leaders, a recognition of his role in shaping the progressive agenda. NoiseCat was not just a theorist; he was an operator. He was credited with leading a successful lobbying campaign that resulted in the appointment of Deb Haaland as Secretary of the Interior, a historic moment for Native American representation in the Cabinet. Under NoiseCat's leadership, the organization pushed for the inclusion of progressives and the exclusion of moderates in the Biden administration, arguing that the party needed to be more ideologically coherent to govern effectively. This push for ideological purity was part of a broader strategy that included the "Party Builder" ranking, a project launched in 2019 in conjunction with the Future Now Fund. This ranking quantified the support given by 2020 Democratic presidential primary candidates to state legislative candidates, creating a data-driven incentive for candidates to invest in down-ballot races. The goal was to build a pipeline of progressive power from the local level up.

The organization also engaged in direct political activism through projects like "Fuck Gerry(mandering)," a collaboration with Crooked Media launched in 2019 to assist Democrats running for the Virginia General Assembly. This project was a clear example of DFP's philosophy: data should not just inform; it should mobilize. By combining polling, policy analysis, and grassroots organizing, they created a feedback loop that amplified the voices of the progressive movement. Their blog became a platform for political figures to articulate their vision, with Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer himself contributing articles. This blurring of lines between think tank, advocacy group, and media outlet was intentional. McElwee understood that in the modern information age, the battle for policy was a battle for attention, and Data for Progress was designed to win that battle.

However, the very speed and ambition that propelled Data for Progress to the pinnacle of influence also sowed the seeds of its internal crisis. The organization's reliance on non-traditional polling methods and its aggressive stance against the party establishment had already drawn criticism from some members of the American Left, who argued that DFP was insufficiently critical of the party establishment despite its progressive branding. But the real blow came from within. In late 2022, the allegations against Sean McElwee surfaced, revealing a dark underbelly to the data-driven revolution he had championed. It was reported that McElwee had been gambling on election results on the website PredictIt. This was not a harmless hobby; it was a direct conflict of interest that struck at the heart of the organization's credibility. If the leader of a polling firm is betting on the outcome of an election, there is an inherent temptation to manipulate the data to ensure a profit.

The allegations grew more serious when it was reported that McElwee had inquired among his employees about having them participate in an illegal straw donor scheme. A straw donor scheme involves using third parties to donate money to a political campaign in violation of contribution limits, effectively laundering the source of the funds. The implication was that McElwee was not just gambling on the outcome of elections but potentially trying to influence them through illicit means. The reaction from the senior staff of Data for Progress was swift and decisive. They informed McElwee that they would resign en masse if he did not step down as the firm's executive director. Faced with the collapse of his own organization, McElwee resigned in November 2022. The scandal was a stark reminder that the pursuit of influence, when unchecked by ethical boundaries, can lead to self-destruction.

The aftermath of the scandal has left Data for Progress in a precarious position. The organization lost its founder and public face, and its reputation for integrity was severely damaged. The allegations of gambling and potential data manipulation called into question the validity of the polls that had helped shape the Democratic Party's strategy for years. If the data was manipulated to serve McElwee's financial interests, then the entire edifice of the organization's influence was built on a shaky foundation. The New York Times article that had once celebrated DFP's "coming-of-age" now serves as a tragic prologue to a story of hubris and downfall. The organization's ability to predict outcomes, once its greatest strength, became its greatest vulnerability. The very nonprobability methods that allowed them to move fast and disrupt the status quo were now seen as a potential cover for manipulation.

Despite the scandal, the legacy of Data for Progress is undeniable. They forced the Democratic Party to confront the reality of the progressive movement. They brought the Green New Deal from the margins to the center of the national conversation. They proved that a small, agile organization could punch above its weight in the high-stakes world of American politics. The "Party Builder" ranking and the "Fuck Gerry(mandering)" project demonstrated the power of combining data with activism. Even in the wake of McElwee's departure, the organization continues to operate, though under a cloud of suspicion. The staff that remained, including Julian Brave NoiseCat, faced the daunting task of rebuilding the firm's credibility without its founder. The challenge was not just to produce accurate polls, but to restore trust in the data itself.

The story of Data for Progress is a microcosm of the broader challenges facing modern political advocacy. In an age of information overload, where data is weaponized and narratives are constructed in real-time, the line between advocacy and manipulation is increasingly thin. Data for Progress sought to bridge this gap, to use data as a tool for social change. But the McElwee scandal revealed the dangers of that ambition. When the drive for influence overrides the commitment to truth, the result is not progress, but regression. The organization's rise was a testament to the power of ideas and the potential of data to shape the future. Its fall was a cautionary tale about the ethical pitfalls of that same power.

As the dust settles on the McElwee era, the question remains: can Data for Progress survive? The organization has weathered storms before, but the allegations of gambling and illegal donor schemes are of a different magnitude. They strike at the core of what a think tank is supposed to be: a source of objective analysis and policy development. If the data is tainted, the policy recommendations lose their validity. The future of the organization will depend on its ability to distance itself from the actions of its former leader and to re-establish a culture of integrity. The staff that refused to resign en masse, choosing instead to stay and rebuild, may be the key to the organization's survival. Their commitment suggests that the mission of Data for Progress is bigger than any one individual, that the need for progressive policy development and data-driven advocacy is too great to be abandoned.

The story of Data for Progress is not over. It is a story in flux, a narrative that continues to be written by the people who believe in its mission. The scandal of 2022 was a dark chapter, but it was not the end of the book. The organization's early successes, from the Green New Deal to the primary challenges that reshaped the Democratic Party, remain a part of American political history. The lessons learned from its rise and fall will serve as a guide for future organizations seeking to harness the power of data for social change. The challenge for Data for Progress now is to prove that it can be more than just a reflection of the ambitions of its founder. It must become a model of ethical advocacy, where the pursuit of progress is matched by a commitment to truth. Until then, the shadow of the McElwee scandal will loom over every poll they release, every report they publish, and every policy they champion. The data may be accurate, but the trust must be earned again, one honest number at a time.

In the end, the story of Data for Progress is a story about the power of data and the peril of its misuse. It is a story of ambition, innovation, and the complex ethical landscape of modern politics. It reminds us that while data can illuminate the path forward, it cannot replace the moral compass that guides us. The organization's journey from a small start-up to a political powerhouse, and then to the brink of collapse, is a testament to the high stakes of American politics. As the Democratic Party continues to grapple with the tension between its moderate and progressive wings, the legacy of Data for Progress will remain a defining chapter in the party's evolution. The question of whether the organization can recover and continue its mission is one that only time will answer. But the impact it has already had on the political landscape is undeniable. The Green New Deal, the primary challenges, the push for a more progressive administration—these are the tangible results of a bold experiment in political data and advocacy. Whether that experiment ultimately succeeds or fails, it has changed the way we think about the role of data in politics. And that, perhaps, is its most enduring legacy.

The human cost of political maneuvering is often abstract, a matter of headlines and polling numbers. But behind every poll, every report, and every legislative proposal are real people with real lives. The progressive movement that Data for Progress sought to champion is driven by a desire to improve the lives of millions of Americans. The Green New Deal is about climate justice and the survival of our planet. Medicare for All is about the health and well-being of our communities. Voting rights are about the very foundation of our democracy. When Data for Progress pushed for these causes, they were fighting for the people. The scandal of Sean McElwee, with its allegations of gambling and illegal schemes, is a betrayal of that trust. It is a reminder that the fight for progress requires not just data and strategy, but also integrity and a commitment to the public good. The future of Data for Progress depends on its ability to honor that commitment once again. The road ahead is uncertain, but the mission remains clear. The data must serve the people, not the other way around. And until that principle is restored, the shadow of the past will continue to darken the path forward.