In 1994 the news media rediscovered the Christian Right and came away perplexed. The movement seemed to contradict conventional wisdom at every turn. First, many observers were surprised that it was still strong and active, given the responsibility assigned to it for the Republican defeat in 1992. Second, its activities were neither all successes nor failures, making the story-line difficult to follow. How could a movement with such a controversial agenda contribute to unexpected Republican gains in places like Minnesota, while at the same time, candidates prominently identified with it, such as Oliver North, were defeated? Why was the Christian Right at once so strong and so weak?

No doubt much of this confusion results from well-known proclivities of journalists, including a penchant for “horse race” coverage, a focus on controversy, and a poor sense of history. There is, however, also a deeper misunderstanding at work. It is widely assumed that religion is on the wane in modern societies. Thus, its repeated expressions in public affairs, such as the Christian Right, come as a great surprise. In response, many observers are ready to interpret such expressions as temporary aberrations that will quickly fade away. In fact, the Christian Right has been discovered and dismissed in the press at least four times since it emerged on the national scene with the Moral Majority in 1979. This pattern was difficult to replicate in 1994.

The September PS symposium addresses the uses and abuses of political science data, and the rules or standards, if any, the profession should adopt to preserve the integrity of political science research and to advance knowledge. The ability to verify research findings by reanalyzing original data or to replicate findings by analyzing new, independently collected data has been the focus of debate among political scientists since Gary King distributed his initial version of “Replication, Replication” in 1992. The PS verification/replication symposium is the latest but most public round of the ongoing debate.

Political science is a community enterprise; the community of empirical political scientists needs access to the body of data necessary to replicate existing studies to understand, evaluate, and especially build on this work. Unfortunately, the norms we have in place now do not encourage, or in some cases even permit, this aim. Following are suggestions that would facilitate replication and are easy to implement—by teachers, students, dissertation writers, graduate programs, authors, reviewers, funding agencies, and journal and book editors.

Early in the 1994 campaign, South Carolina Democratic humorists quipped that only two skills were required to win a Republican gubernatorial nomination—speaking in tongues and handling snakes (Carney 1994). The reference, of course, was to the expanding role of conservative Protestants in the state's Republican Party. Unfortunately, Democratic strategists understood the dynamics of conservative Protestantism no better in South Carolina than elsewhere, and on November 8, the joke was on them.

David Beasley, a born-again Southern Baptist (but converted in an independent Fundamentalist church), received strong backing from Pentecostal and Charismatic activists and votes from conservative Protestants of all stripes, first winning the GOP gubernatorial nomination and then defeating a popular Democratic lieutenant governor for the state's top post. Beasley's success proves that identifying with a Christian Right movement organization is not an insuperable barrier to political success. His victory also brings into focus the broader role of conservative Protestants in South Carolina's continuing development into one of the nation's most Republican states.

Political scientists believe they ought to promote research as a social enterprise and develop a stronger sense of community within the discipline. They disagree on how to foster community and on the best way to promote research. The position taken in “Replication, Replication” (King 1995) is that these goals can be achieved by requiring researchers who collect data to surrender the products of their labor to others without compensation.

On November 8, 1994, Oklahoma Democrats were stunned by an unprecedented GOP tide in the midterm elections. Just two years before, the Democrats still looked like the majority party: they held the governor's office, a 5-3 majority in the congressional delegation, and huge majorities in the state legislature. On Wednesday morning they woke up to a new reality. Republicans swept the offices of governor and lieutenant governor, picked up seats in the state legislature, and seized a remarkable 7-1 majority in the congressional delegation. Not since 1920 had the Republicans sent a majority to Washington, and never by such a margin.

Of equal significance is the nature of that congressional delegation. All five of the victorious Republican House members and both of the senators have ties to the Christian Right and received strong backing from conservative Evangelical voters. The lone surviving Democrat is conservative Representative Bill Brewster. From the standpoint of the Christian Right, therefore, the elections were a smashing success; Oklahoma's delegation to Washington will be highly sympathetic to their policy goals.

What produced this outcome was a fortuitous blend of discontent, resources, and opportunity. Successful social movements need resources to channel discontent and favorable opportunities to exploit. All of these came together in Oklahoma. Discontent with the drift of secular society, accentuated by deep displeasure with President Clinton (who embodied the “counterculture” in the White House), galvanized conservative Evangelicals. In turn, this discontent was channeled by sophisticated Christian Right leaders and fueled by expanding resources (money, media outlets, and a volunteer corps).

The public discussion over replication has been ongoing among political scientists for approximately three years. I welcome PS and the American Political Science Association to this debate. The American Journal of Political Science (AJPS) has operated with a replication policy since January 1, 1994. The first part of this essay reflects my views on replication; the second, my experiences as one of the first editors to adopt the policy.

In early 1994, Virginia Senator Chuck Robb appeared extremely vulnerable. Once touted as a potential Democratic presidential candidate, Robb spent much of his first term defending himself against charges that he had attended parties where drugs were used, had engaged in extramarital affairs, and had known that his aides had possessed illegally taped cellular telephone conversations of long-time rival Governor Douglas Wilder.

Robb's difficulties began soon before he launched his campaign in March 1994. He issued a letter to Virginia Democratic leaders and activists in which he admitted to having extramarital sex, although he consistently denied that this contact had ever included inter-course. This fine distinction made him no friends among moral conservatives, who disapproved of any extramarital activity, or among liberals, who found his behavior sexist and his account implausible.

Yet on election night, Robb survived a Republican tidal wave to win a surprisingly easy victory over Republican candidate Oliver North, of Iran-Contra notoriety. North spent approximately $20 million, more than four times Robb's total, and deployed a huge volunteer army that covered the state with placards. He had the strong endorsements of Reverends Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson, and could count on the organizational efforts of the Christian Coalition, the Family Foundation, and the National Rifle Association. In the home state of the former Moral Majority and the Christian Coalition, however, North failed to carry Lynchburg (a stronghold of Falwell and the former Moral Majority), or Chesapeake, and only narrowly carried Virginia Beach (home of both Robertson and the Christian Coalition).

Several important areas of agreement in the King-Herrnson debate suggest that a broad consensus exists on the desirability of changing disciplinary practice and norms governing the collection and release of original data. After reading both essays, I am convinced that both Gary King and Paul Herrnson would agree that (1) Collecting and organizing political science data is often a costly enterprise that requires a substantial commitment of valued resources, including money, time, and expertise.

Beginning with the 1980 presidential campaign, the Republican coalition became dramatically more heterogeneous by the incorporation of white Evangelical Protestants. Galvanized by the desire to promote traditional moral values, these new Republicans were characterized by lower social status and less libertarian values than many regular Republicans.

Thus, this Republican-white Evangelical alliance contained, from the beginning, a strong potential for conflict and division. Its success has depended on the ability of Republican candidates to manage these differences. Such management, in turn, depends on the issues raised, candidate strategies, media agenda-setting, and the underlying state of public opinion. Two opposite outcomes have always been possible.

One possibility might be termed the “rosy scenario,” where economic and social conservatives combine to pursue common electoral and policy goals (see Nesmith 1994, 129-32). Models for this scenario are Reagan's victories in 1980 and 1984, as well as George Bush's election in 1988. This scenario might mean Republicans could take advantage of a public climate combining a “reaction against modernity” and the “moral emptiness of the public square” with “a general renewal of confidence in the market” (Reichley 1986, 35; Hutcheson 1988). At a minimum it would require a measure of pragmatism by all party factions, accepting and supporting each other's candidates regardless of divisions over specific issues. The chance of overturning Democratic control, either locally or nationally, could cement such interfactional cooperation.