Predicting electoral activism among gays and lesbians in the United States


Predicting electoral activism among gays and lesbians in the
United States
Eric Swank1, Breanne Fahs2

1Department of Sociology, Social Work and Criminology, Morehead State University
2Women and Gender Studies Program, Arizona State University

Correspondence concerning this article should
be addressed to Eric Swank, 311 Rader Hall,
Morehead, KY 40351, USA.
E-mail: e.swank@morehead-st.edu

doi: 10.1111/jasp.12095

Abstract

Although battles over gay and lesbian rights have appeared prominently in political
arenas, scholars have created few empirical studies on gay and lesbian activism. To
address this absence, this quantitative study identified factors that inspired greater
electoral engagement among gays and lesbians in the United States (n = 285). After
integrating “resource,” “mobilizing,” and “framing” variables into regressions, this
study found that electoral activism was inspired by many sorts of motivators. In
sum, activist tendencies were swayed by educational levels, perceptions of political
potency, a desire to conceal sexual orientations, surviving hate crimes, and joining
certain political groups. Interestingly, this study supported “new social movement”
theories that downplay economic factors as predictors of involvement in gay and
lesbian rights campaigns.

Introduction

Discrimination against gays and lesbians takes many forms.
In its crudest terms, homophobia manifests itself through
instances of physical violence and a language that chastises
and belittles both homosexuality and non-normative gender
behavior. In slightly subtler terms, heteronormativity leads a
long list of insidious practices that privileges heterosexuality.
Whether via the lack of legal marital rights, or the assumption
that everybody is and must be completely heterosexual, gays
and lesbians often endure hostile environments that monitor
and penalize homosexual behavior in the United States. To
minimize negative social sanctions, some gays and lesbians
may try to deny or hide their sexual identity to themselves and
others. Some gays and lesbians may personally accept their
sexual identity but resign themselves to quietly enduring
social injustices. Others may try to minimize homophobia by
presenting an image that pleases the expectations of hetero-
sexual audiences. This assimilation approach argues that gays
and lesbians can win acceptance from a skeptical majority if
they downplay mannerisms that are considered “strange” and
“peculiar” to heterosexual sensibilities. While social stigmas
may be managed by hiding one’s sexual identity, being politi-
cally acquiescent, or offering “sensible” or “assuaging” perso-
nas, other gays and lesbians may contest the basis of their
subordination. This may occur in several ways: Gays and les-

bians may enact hidden resistances that covertly defy hetero-
sexual privilege; they may individually dispute heterosexist
comments or use legal means to correct inequities; or they
may initiate social movements that contest institutional prac-
tices (Scott, 1990).

Collective efforts at ending heterosexism can take many
forms (Bernstein, 1997; Smith & Haider-Markel, 2002;
Taylor & Whittier, 1992). Segments of the gay and lesbian
rights movement focus on transforming the social customs
and worldviews of others. In doing so, some sections of the
gay and lesbian rights movement attempt to reinterpret cul-
tural practices by normalizing same-sex relationships and
deconstructing the justifications of heterosexism and com-
pulsory heterosexuality (among other things). Other wings
of the gay and lesbian rights movement focus on improving
governmental laws, policies, and regulations. This “state-
centered” approach emphasizes the expansion of rights and
statuary protections through the use of “insider” and “out-
sider” political tactics. When choosing tactics in light of
evolving political opportunities, “insider” and “electoral”
tactics embody the more conventional and institutionalized
modes of voting, lobbying, and campaign contributions.
Alternatively, the “outsider” tactics of protests, strikes, and
boycotts try to force concessions through more disruptive
and less institutionalized ways (Jenkins & Klandermans,
1995).

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With an individual unit of analysis, this paper investigates
the use of insider tactics for gays and lesbians in the United
States. By exploring the topic of electoral participation, we
asked, how often, and in what circumstances, have gays and
lesbians voted and lobbied politicians on the behalf of gay and
lesbian rights? The explanatory scope of this study centers on
the factors that inspire or hinder greater levels of political
activism. Because there is a shortage of studies on this topic,
we mostly utilized universal models of political participation
when selecting our independent variables.

The much-cited “resource” model of political science
guided this analysis (Brady, Verba, & Scholzman, 1995) as
did the sociological theories of “mobilization structures”
(McAdam & Paulsen, 1993; McCarthy, 1996; Passy, 2001) and
“collective action frames” (Gamson, 1992; Klandermans,
1997; Snow & Benford, 1992). However, this work also used
the initial empirical literature on voting activities among
sexual minorities (Bailey, 1998; Egan, Edelman & Sherrill,
2008; Hertzog, 1996; Lewis, Rogers, & Sherrill, 2011; Swank &
Fahs, 2011; Waldner, 2001), people who protest for gay or
transgender rights (Friedman & Leaper, 2010; Lombardi,
1999; Simon et al., 1998; Taylor, Kimport, Van Dyke &
Andersen, 2009) and individuals who joined AIDS advocacy
groups (Elbaz, 1996; Jennings & Andersen, 2003; Rollins &
Hirsch, 2003).

Literature review

To assemble our theoretical model, we began with the much-
cited “resource-model” of political participation (Brady et al.,
1995). Offering a succinct answer to why people refrain from
politics, the resource model asserts “because they can’t,
because they don’t want to, or because nobody asked”
(Brady et al., 1995, p. 271). With regard to “they can’t,” many
people refrain from politics because of a supposed dearth of
necessary resources to be political. While crucial resources
may come in many forms, these authors emphasize the
importance of financial situations, free time, and civic skills.
The predicament of “they don’t want to” deals with a lack of
psychological interest in politics. An indifference to politics
and policy is sometimes belied as stupidity or indolence, but
the resource model assumes that blasé attitudes are a reaction
to a lower sense of political efficacy or greater levels of indi-
vidualism. For this study, politics may lack salience to gays
and lesbians when they think that politicians ignore lesbian,
gay, bisexual (LGB) communities or when gay and lesbian
individuals do not think they share a common destiny with
other sexual minorities. Finally, the “nobody asked” factor
implies that people are isolated from the recruitment net-
works that move citizens into action. That is, lower levels of
activism may be a result of existing in social contexts that fail
to transmit the necessary values and information that make
activism probable.

“They can’t”: the role of income, education,
and status hierarchies

Every society has an unequal distribution of wealth, prestige,
and power. This unequal allocation of resources creates
aggregates of people—social classes—who share similar
amounts of income and life opportunities. The resource
model assumes these class and status hierarchies are funda-
mental to political inclinations and activism (Brady et al.,
1995; Lake & Huckfeldt, 1998; Leighley & Vedlitz, 1999;
Lim, 2008; McClurg, 2003; Timpone, 1998). Socioeconomic
standing is a universal variable that drives political participa-
tion tendencies for members of every social group in society
(i.e., socioeconomic status works across race, gender, reli-
gious, or sexual orientation boundaries). In the simplest of
terms, a person’s class location grants or impedes access to
opportunities and financial resources that make political
activism easier. Consequently, people in higher socioeco-
nomic levels amass and retain the structural elicitors of activ-
ism, be it more money, wider educational opportunities,
greater amounts of free time, or more chances to lead people
in day-to-day scenarios. Conversely, Zipp, Landerman, and
Luebke (1982) argues that economically disenfranchised
individuals suffer the opposite plight: “Due to less education,
more restricted occupation-related learning experiences,
greater social isolation, and higher alienation, lower status
persons are less interested in politics, are less aware of the
need for or possible benefits of participation, feel less politi-
cally efficacious, less often possess those social and political
skills, and have less time, money, and energy to expend in
political participation” (p. 1141).

Studies of the general population often find greater afflu-
ence linked to greater electoral activism (Brady et al., 1995;
Harder & Krosnick, 2008; Leighley & Vedlitz, 1999;
Timpone, 1998). However, these results are less consistent in
studies of gay and lesbian activism. One study found that
transsexuals who were employed in professional occupa-
tions were more involved in political campaigns than their
blue-collar counterparts (Lombardi, 1999) and other
studies suggested that higher income gays and lesbians
attended more demonstrations for the recognition of same-
sex marriages (Taylor, Kimport, Van Dyke, & Andersen,
2009) and funding for AIDS issues (Jennings & Andersen,
2003). A more recent article added that richer lesbians and
gays were more likely to vote for liberal presidential candi-
dates than poorer sexual minorities (Lewis et al., 2011).
Conversely, income did not predict voting tendencies
(Bailey, 1998) nor the amount of involvement in gay and
lesbian and AIDS rights groups (Elbaz, 1996; Sturmer &
Simon, 2004). Finally, one study revealed an inverse rela-
tionship as it contended that it was poorer, rather than
richer, gays and lesbians who joined Queer Nation and ACT
UP (Rollins & Hirsch, 2003).

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The role of education was also unclear. One study found
that college educated sexual minorities gay more money to
political candidates than lesbians and gays with high school
degrees (Swank & Fahs, 2011) and two studies have suggested
that ACT UP members were highly educated (Elbaz, 1996;
Rollins & Hirsch, 2003). Conversely, four other studies
claimed that educational attainment did not differentiate the
amount of political activism among gays and lesbians (Lewis
et al., 2011; Lombardi, 1999; Sturmer & Simon, 2004;
Waldner, 2001).

The role of gender hierarchies for political participation is
far from certain in studies of the U.S. populace. Older studies
suggested that heterosexual women, from the beginning of
enfranchisement to the 1950s, have been slightly less inclined
than heterosexual men to be politically active. Conversely,
newer studies have suggested that this gender gap disap-
peared or had even reversed in the years that followed the
second wave of the women’s movement (Harder & Krosnick,
2008; Hritzuk & Park, 2000; Leighley & Nagler, 1992;
Timpone, 1998). To add to the confusion, a recent study sug-
gested that women were more likely to vote in elections and
sign petitions but were less likely to write a politician or join a
protest (Coffé & Bolzendahl, 2010).

Inconsistent gender effects are mostly echoed in the studies
of gay and lesbian political engagement. One study argued
that lesbians voted more for lesbian political candidates
(Hertzog, 1996) while another suggested that lesbians wore
more political buttons (Herek, Norton, Allen, & Sims, 2010).
Further, gay men wrote more letters to politicians (Herek
et al., 2010) and made larger financial contributions to politi-
cal candidates than lesbians (Herek et al., 2010; Swank &
Fahs, 2011). Other studies contend that the frequency of
political activism was roughly the same with gays and lesbians
(Bailey, 1998; Jennings & Andersen, 2003; Lewis et al., 2011;
Rollins & Hirsch, 2003; Taylor et al., 2009; Waldner, 2001).

“They don’t want to”: framing grievances,
efficacy, and collective identities

Frames are generally conceived as cultural tools or schemas
that provide “tacit theories about what exists, what happens,
and what matters” (Gitlin, 1980, p. 6). While frames help with
the classification and organization of incoming stimuli, they
also serve a political role of sanctioning or challenging the
status quo. Conventional frames acquire the consent of the less
powerful by portraying the social order as proper, normal, and
inevitable. By seeking widespread conformity, mainstream
narratives get people to subscribe to values, ideals, and self-
definitions that bind them to their location in the prevailing
power structure. While conservative frames prioritize defer-
ence to conventional standards, collective action frames do the
exact opposite, as they motivate people into joining collective
efforts that publicly seek social change. Doug McAdam (1999)

wrote: “Mediating between opportunity, organization, and
action are the shared meanings and cultural understandings—
including a shared collective identity—that people bring to an
instance of incipient contention” (p. 5).

Movement theorists have identified four dimensions
of collective action frames (Ashmore, Deaux, &
McLaughlin-Volpe, 2004; Gamson, 1992; Klandermans,
1997; Lavine et al., 1999; Miller, Gurin, Gurin, &
Malanchuk, 1981; van Zomeren, Postmes, & Spears, 2008).
First, collective action frames initially render some societal
norms as wrong, unacceptable and unjust. By naming the
injustice, Snow and Benford (1992) suggested these frames
serve as “accenting devices that either underscore or embel-
lish the seriousness and injustice of a social condition or
redefines it as unjust immoral” (p. 137). These injustice
frames can highlight many sorts of maltreatments but they
often generate greater salience when they focus on viola-
tions of fairness or equity norms. Injustices seem worse or
viler when dominant groups seem to benefit at the expense
of innocent victims. Second, frames identify the causes of
the injustice. By providing a diagnostic function, frames are
etiologies that explain why problems exist and assign levels
of blame or capability to different entities. By making these
attributions, frames draw attention to the sources of social
ills and highlight the practices that should be modified,
transformed, or eliminated.

Third, frames also convince bystanders that they should
use political tactics to stop these violations. These prognostic
aspects of frames usually emphasize the urgency of political
action and a sense that challenges from less powerful con-
stituencies can force concessions from a reluctant target (this
confidence in movement tactics is sometimes called “agency”
or a “sense of collective efficacy”). In short, in order to be
effective, collective action frames must assure gays and lesbi-
ans that electoral or protest movements are a proper and
viable response to their grievances. Finally, frames must
provide a collective identity among the aggrieved. In doing so,
collective identities establish social boundaries of “us” and
“them” by specifying who belongs to the righteous in-group
of the mistreated and who exemplifies the antagonistic
wrongdoers who must be challenged. These collective identi-
ties often contest and refute societal claims that members
of their group are inferior, worthless, sick, or maladjusted.
Instead, collective action frames offer narratives about the
virtues of similar people and they suggest that their group is
illegitimately threatened, deprived, or treated badly. These
collective identities enhance a sense of solidarity and loyalty
for the people who share the same problems, while simultane-
ously fostering some distrust or contempt for the people or
institutions that maintain these problems. It is the goal of this
paper to ascertain the sort of injustice, attributional, prognos-
tic, and collective identity frames that precede electoral
efforts at social change.

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Perceptions of injustices may or may not be related to per-
sonal experiences of discrimination and prejudice. In many
cases, gay and lesbians may become aware of heterosexism by
observing or hearing about the mistreatment of other LGB
people (Evans & Herriott, 2004; Hartman, 2005; Russell &
McGuire, 2008). In other cases, enduring personal experi-
ences of discrimination can delegitimize conventional norms
and lead to an oppositional consciousness that challenges the
status quo. The circumscribed, face-to-face nature of experi-
enced discrimination makes it more proximal and salient
than institutionalized forms of biases. This immediacy may
create impulses to challenge this hardship, yet these impulses
may be curbed or suppressed since heterosexism insists that
gays and lesbians should be passive, accommodating,
silent, or self-hating. This combination of suppression and
discrimination can foster a number of detrimental coping
mechanisms such as disengagement (Wilson & Yoshikawa,
2004), withdrawal or avoidance (Thompson, 2006), greater
suicide and drug risk (Mays & Cochran, 2001), dangerous
sexual practices (Wilson & Yoshikawa, 2004), and stigmatiz-
ing others (Swim & Thomas, 2006).

Although surviving discrimination can lead to negative
consequences, cases of first-hand discrimination seem
equally important to gay and lesbian activism (Duncan, 1999;
Hyers, 2007; Jennings & Andersen, 2003; Taylor et al., 2009;
Waldner, 2001). Two studies on AIDS activism found that gay
men were more likely to protest governmental policies when
they were demeaned by the medical professionals (Jennings &
Andersen, 2003; Tester, 2004). Gays and lesbians who dealt
with sexual and verbal harassment, or discrimination in
housing and employment, were more likely to accept the sort
of queer identity that leads to joining radical gay and lesbian
rights groups (Friedman & Leaper, 2010; Rollins & Hirsch,
2003; Simon et al., 1998; Waldner, 2001). Moreover, the act
of surviving deliberate and overt forms of homophobia
remained statistically significant even when researchers con-
trolled for contextual and framing influences (Simon et al.,
1998; Waldner, 2001).

Efficacy perceptions are sometimes related to the protest-
ing inclinations of gays and lesbians (Hertzog, 1996; Jennings
& Andersen, 2003; Jones, 2002; Swank & Fahs, 2011). For
example, Jennings and Andersen (2003) suggested that gay
men were more likely to join AIDS advocacy groups when
they thought they had a good understanding of political
issues. However, perceptions of political efficacy were irrel-
evant to how often married gays and lesbians joined gay and
lesbian right groups or attended a political demonstration
(Taylor et al., 2009) and the only quantitative study of gay and
lesbian electoral activism noted that “power expectancies”
worked in the exact opposite ways as predicted (Waldner,
2001). That is, gays and lesbians were more likely to join a gay
and lesbian political campaign when they thought the gov-
ernment was unresponsive to gay or lesbian demands. As

such, confidence in one’s political competencies might have
different effects than confidence in a groups’ ability to change
institutional practices.

Issues of concealing one’s identity and “passing-as-
straight” are inevitably linked to gay and lesbian rights activ-
ism. Within a movement that tries to “gain the recognition for
new social identities,” the very act of being “out” challenges
the veracity of compulsorily heterosexuality (Bernstein,
1997). For individuals, public acknowledgments of sexual
identities are often crafted through a complicated set of dis-
closures practices. Some sexual minorities may feel comfort-
able revealing their sexual identity in most settings while
others may only hint at their sexual identity to a few confi-
dants or nobody at all. Disclosures of sexuality are often stra-
tegic, and the explicit assertion of a gay or lesbian identity
implies that some aspects of the internalized heteronormativ-
ity have been ignored. Finally, the person who willingly dis-
closes a stigmatized identity in potentially risky situations
often feels more entitled to demand more rights for gays and
lesbians.

Accordingly, identities can be tools of political empower-
ment. Several studies have discovered greater political
involvement among gays and lesbians who are more public
about their sexual identity (Gortmaker & Brown, 2006; Lewis
et al., 2011; Waldner, 2001). However, one study warned that
the significant relationship between joining a gay and lesbian
rights demonstration and disguising a gay or lesbian orienta-
tion disappeared when they moved from a bivariate to multi-
variate analysis (Simon et al., 1998). To address activist
identities, a study of college students revealed that lesbians
were more inclined to assertively challenge homophobic
comments when they embraced the activists norms of
“standing up for what’s right” and defending the rights of
subordinated groups (Hyers, 2007). When addressing activist
inclinations, gays and lesbians were more interested in politi-
cal activism after they fully committed to their sexual identity
(Konik & Stewart, 2004), paid attention to policies that effect
lesbians and gays (Lewis et al., 2011), or felt solidarity with
other sexual minorities (Friedman & Leaper, 2010). In terms
of political behaviors, Herek et al. (2010) discovered that
sexual minorities who were convinced of their sexuality were
more likely to contact a government official or give money to
a political candidate, while Rollins and Hirsch (2003) found
that people who called themselves “queer” were more likely to
join AIDS advocacy groups.

“Nobody asked”: belonging to straight and
gay civic groups

Theories about “mobilizing structures” suggest that residing
in certain social environments fostered greater political activ-
ism (Lim, 2008; McAdam & Paulsen, 1993; McCarthy, 1996;
Passy, 2001; Polletta & Jasper, 2001; Timpone, 1998). Social

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networks, which represent webs of recurring interactions
between people and groups, always conveys some sort of
beliefs, values, norms, and identities. While the content of
networks is filtered through a complicated interpretive
process, most people derive their worldviews and identities
from their immersion in contexts that praise prevailing social
orders and dismiss the worth of minority groups. However,
some networks transmit collective action frames that contest
conventional social scripts and suggest political challenges
are necessary, important, and worthwhile. While the commu-
nication between network partners can inspire activist incli-
nations, such exchanges can also draw people into specific
political mobilizations (Harder & Krosnick, 2008; Lake &
Huckfeldt, 1998; McClurg, 2003). Political parties, commit-
ted partisans, and movement activists often try to motivate
activism through different persuasive techniques (e.g., face-
to-face conversations, phone calls, email, direct mail, etc.).
While each of these recruitment mediums transforms some
sympathetic bystanders into activists, budding activists are
more likely to act on their political predispositions when
encouraged or asked to be active by someone who they per-
sonally know (Hritzuk & Park, 2000; Lim, 2008; McClurg,
2003). As such, social networks seem to play the dual purpose
of pushing and pulling people into political activism. In
effect, social networks boost political engagement since they
often convey the attitudes that make people prone or recep-
tive to activism and they also disseminate the logistical infor-
mation that makes activism possible.

For studies of gay and lesbian activism the concept of social
network immersion works has been measured via network
size, network density, and types of group affiliations (Elbaz,
1996; Lombardi, 1999; Waldner, 2001). Some studies have
found that gays and lesbians who routinely talked with other
gays and lesbians were more politically active (Lombardi,
1999; Tester, 2004). Similarly being active in the lesbian and
gay community lead to greater voting for liberal political can-
didates (Lewis et al., 2011) and being contacted by the Demo-
cratic political party increased the likelihood of voting for a
lesbian candidate (Hertzog, 1996). Other studies suggest that
membership in specific voluntary groups matters even more
(Duncan, 1999). This is based on the premise that civic
groups inspire more activism since they provide wider access
to relevant information and have a higher concentration of
friends who expect high levels of community engagement
(Hritzuk & Park, 2000; Lim, 2008; Timpone, 1998). While
joining a gay athletic club or a gay friendly church may sensi-
tize participants about shared grievances and enhance group
solidarity, theorists have often argued that the gay and lesbian
community centers are the strongest engines of cognitive lib-
eration (Bernstein, 1997). While LGB centers provide access
to psychological and educational resources, they also intro-
duce political rookies to explicitly political networks (e.g.,
consciousness-raising groups and national gay and lesbian

rights groups that block recruit at their functions). In turn,
this integration into LGB centers seems to translate into
greater political activism (Elbaz, 1996; Lombardi, 1999;
Waldner, 2001). In fact, the best predictor of gay and lesbian
activism is membership in LGB groups (Lombardi, 1999;
Swank & Fahs, 2011; Waldner, 2001).

To turn this literature into a testable theoretical model, this
study examined how resource, framing, and mobilizing vari-
ables predicted an individual’s use of electoral tactics to
further gay and lesbian rights. By applying the seven variables
of family income, education, gender, hate crime victimiza-
tion, gay or lesbian identities, perceptions of efficacy, and
group membership to the data from an online survey, the fol-
lowing analysis identified factors that distinguished gays and
lesbians who were more or less active in electoral processes.

Methods

Participants

This online study drew on a sample of 285 women and men
from throughout the United States (December 2007), though
centering primarily in the Mid-South and Midwestern states.
Online surveys are often the best option when studying gay
and lesbian populations (Koch & Emrey, 2002; Riggle,
Rostosky & Reedy, 2005) for several reasons: First, national
random samples often fail to ask questions about sexual
orientation. Second, the Internet offers a national scope of
potential respondents. This is important since the qualities
of mobilizing structures vary dramatically throughout the
United States. Third, online surveys offer research designs
that have a quasi-experimental flavor.1 By using political and
apolitical listervs to find respondents, we were able to create
comparison groups of gays and lesbians who were involved in
activist and non-activist social circles. This use of nonequiva-
lent comparison groups has never been done before in studies
on gay and lesbian political participation. Previous studies of
gay activism collected their data through snowball samples of
activists (Jones, 2002; Tester, 2004; Waldner, 2001), conven-
ience samples of women in college (Friedman & Leaper, 2010;
Hyers, 2007), mailing surveys to members of gay and lesbian
organizations (Rollins & Hirsch, 2003; Simon et al., 1998;
Sturmer & Simon, 2004; Taylor et al., 2009) or distributing
surveys at political events (Elbaz, 1996; Lombardi, 1999;
Waldner, 2001). Fourth, random phone or mail samples were
impossible to complete, in part because researchers vary in
the definition of who qualifies as “homosexual,” and complete
lists of every gay and lesbian person in the United States do
not exist. Fifth, snowball samples are often less representative

1Technically, Earl Babbie (2008) calls it a “case-control” design in which cross-

sectional studies start with nonequivalent comparison on the dependent

variable and collects retrospective data on the independent variables.

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since they attract participants that are too homogeneous
(Faugier & Sargeant, 1997). Snowball techniques dispropor-
tionably select those who are already “out” and located solidly
within the gay community (Farquhar, 1999; Rhoads, 1997),
or they rely upon “tokenism” in order to achieve proper rep-
resentation for groups outside of the sample’s social network
(Brown, 2005). Finally, in-person recruitment at lesbian or
gay establishments like bars or clubs would be too selective as
well (Riggle et al., 2005), as it would likely oversample those
who are younger or more active in the gay community, while
excluding people with disability (Butler, 1999) and encourag-
ing racial homogeneity (Bassi, 2002).

Respondents were selected through a purposive stratified
sample of several email listservs. The first stratum included
two listservs of members in gay and lesbian rights organiza-
tions. These political listservs were run by umbrella “Fairness
Alliances.” These coalitions of political and human service
organizations seek equality for LGB individuals by encourag-
ing leadership development, public education, and participa-
tion in the democratic process. Memberships in these email
groups were free and most of its participants resided in Mid-
western and Mid-Atlantic states, with the largest contingen-
cies from Kentucky, Ohio, Indiana, Tennessee and West
Virginia. It was assumed that these lists would guarantee
access to people who were already embedded in a politically
energized social network.

The second stratum served as a comparison group of gays
and lesbians who were involved in less politically engaged
networks. The researchers selected Yahoo Groups that met
three criteria. First, the group had to exist for explicitly social
purposes (i.e., they did not mention anything political in
the description of their listserv). Some of these groups con-
centrated on hobbies (i.e., “Dykes on Bykes,” “Gay Square
Dancers,” or “GLBT Horselovers”) while others displayed
support group qualities (i.e., “Lavender Mothers” or “Ken-
tucky Pride”). Second, we excluded groups that seemed to
serve as romantic or sexual matchmaking sites. Finally, we
looked for groups that mentioned the regions that were most
common in the political listservs (i.e., Queer Kentucky, Rural
Pride of Tennessee, or Gay in Ohio).

The cover letters sent via the listservs asked potential
respondents to click over to a SurveyMonkey web site. The
letter solicited the involvement of adults who self-identified
as gays or lesbians. In addition to the standard discussion of
anonymity, voluntarism, and informed consent, we tried to
build some trust and rapport by describing the educational
and professional backgrounds of the primary investigators.2

The response rate to this letter was impossible to calculate
since we cannot estimate the number of people who belonged
to each listserv.

The sample of 285 participants had a preponderance of
males (58% male) and a mainly Euro-American racial com-
position (79% European American, 7% Native American, 2%
African American, 1% Asian American, 1% Latino/a, and
10% “refuse to answer”). Ages in the sample spanned a wide
range, from age 18–75, with 24% under age 30, 54% ages
30–50, and 22% ages 51–75. The sample included a diverse
array of incomes, including 10% below $20,000 per year, 27%
$20,000–50,000 per year, 25% 50,000–80,000 per year, and
31% over $80,000 per year, with 8% being missing data.
Similar to most samples of “out” lesbian and gay participants,
our sample was highly educated, with 3% having earned a
high school degree, 58% having some college or a bachelor’s
degree, and 32% having a graduate degree. Participants
tended to be distributed in many types of urban and rural
spaces, with 26% residing in a large urban center, 18% resid-
ing in a suburb of a large city, 18% residing in a mid-sized city,
and 32% residing in smaller towns or rural areas. Because the
majority of recruitment took place in the geographic South of
the United States, 65.2% of participants lived in the South,
15.7% lived in the Midwest, 6.2% lived in the West, and 4%
lived in the East, with Kentucky, Ohio, Indiana, Tennessee,
and West Virginia representing the most respondents.

Measures

The anonymous online survey contained 88 close-ended
items. The items on self-perceptions or perceptions of the gay
and lesbian community were mostly measured via a 5-point
scale (strongly agree to strongly disagree). Demographics and
experiences of discrimination were handled through binary
or 3-point scales. For example, respondents were offered the
responses of never, once, or twice or more to the item of
“Because of your sexual orientation, have you ever had verbal
insults directed your way since you were 16-years-old?”

Electoral activism

In democratic societies, citizens can choose between a range
of conventional political behaviors. Electoral activism refers
to the institutionalized practices “by private citizens that are
more or less directly aimed at influencing the selection of
government personal and/or the actions they take” (Verba &
Nie, 1972, p. 2). The options of voting, making campaign
contributions, and contacting elected officials embody the
electoral or insider mode of political participation. To match
these electoral options to the gay and lesbian rights move-
ment, we asked respondents if they had ever voted, signed a
petition, or wrote a letter to a politician on the behalf of gay
and lesbian rights. After each item was answered in a yes or no
format, we then created a composite scale of that ranged from
0 (none of these behaviors) to 3 (all of these behaviors). In doing
so, we hoped to capture the overall levels of electoral activism

2Sociologist Bernadette Barton of Morehead State University was another

primary investigator during these stages of data collection.

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among gay and lesbian populations. See Table 1 for the distri-
bution of responses to these items.

Family income

Participants’ economic resources were assessed through a
current family income scale ranging from 1 (under $20,000)
to 5 (above $151,001).

Education level

Academic achievement was measured by a five5-item scale
that focused on the highest status achieved. Responses ranged
from 1 (some high school) to 5 (graduate or professional
degree).

Gender

Answers to “What is your gender” were coded in a binary
fashion, from 0 (female) to 1 (male).

Hate crime experiences

Herek’s victimization scales (Herek, 2009) established the
extent of hate crime violence in the respondents’ lifetimes
(similar to Waldner, 2001). Respondents were asked three
questions about the frequency in which they have been physi-
cally or verbally attacked because of their perceived sexual
identity. When focusing on being targeted because of their
sexual identity, one item asked if they have been “punched,
hit, kicked or beaten” while other items asked if were “chased
or followed” or “had objects thrown at them.” Individual
items had scores ranging from 0 (never) to 2 (two times or
more), while the composite scale went from 0 to 6, with
higher scores indicating a greater degree of victimization
(Cronbach’s á = .785).

Public disclosure of gay or lesbian identities

To see how people managed the public disclosure of gay and
lesbian identities, we chose an item from the public identifi-
cation subscale of the Lesbian Internalized Homophobia
Scale (Szymanski & Chung, 2001). Our item focused on
issues of disclosure, or the willingness to publicly express a
person’s gay or lesbian identity: “I try not to give any signs
that I am gay or lesbian.” Note that the cover letter asked for

volunteers who were self-identified gays and lesbians, so the
question itself was not a form of disclosure to the researchers.
Responses ranged from 0 (strongly agree) to 4 (strongly
disagree).

Sense of collective efficacy

Collective efficacy judgments are future-oriented expectan-
cies about the likelihood of a group achieving its intended
goals. To focus on group potency, our measure addresses the
perceived collective capacities of the gay and lesbian commu-
nity: “When gays and lesbians work together, they can solve
the problems facing them” (see Yeich & Levine, 1994).
Responses ranged from 0 (strongly disagree) to 4 (strongly
agree).

Gay and lesbian group membership

To trace the role of enabling social networks, we asked if
respondents had ever joined a gay or lesbian athletic team,
professional group, support group (similar to Lombardi,
1999). By creating a composite measure, we combined the yes
or no items into a final score. Participants responses ranged
from 0 (none of these activities) to 3 (all of these activities).

Results

Descriptive statistics

Table 1 addresses the extent of political activism among our
sample. While 83% of the sample indicated that they had cast
a ballot for gay and lesbian rights, it was clear that voting was
the most common act by far. Another half of the sample sug-
gested that they had written a letter for gay and lesbian rights,
and 24% indicated that they had signed a petition for gay and
lesbian rights.

Although we had a stratified sample, the amount of elec-
toral activism was comparable to other national samples. A
random sample of sexual minorities in 2007 found that 23%
of respondents had communicated with a politician in the
last year and 10% had written a letter to the news paper in that
time (Egan et al., 2008). After averaging 20 years of Roper
Political Participation questions, Henry Brady (1999) noted
that roughly 86% of the nation had ever voted, while another
33% had signed petitions and 14% had written a senator or
district representative. However, because our sample was far
from random, we would caution that readers should not take
any strong conclusions from this comparison.

Explanatory statistics

This study ran three ordinary least squares regressions. When
deploying a hierarchal approach, the first regression limited
itself to only the resource predictors. After estimating the

Table 1 Descriptive Statistics for Electoral Participation Among Gays
and Lesbians

Item Frequency yes Percent yes Standard deviation

Have you ever done any of these actions in support of gay rights?
Voted 237 83% .37
Signed a petition 68 24% .42
Wrote a letter 142 50% .50

1388 Gay and lesbian electoral activism

© 2013 Wiley Periodicals, Inc. Journal of Applied Social Psychology 2013, 43, pp. 1382–1393



resource model, the ensuing regressions added batches of
framing and mobilizing structure variables. As with any
regression, this technique deciphered the direct association
for each variable when controlling for the influence of the
other independent variables (standardized coefficients), and
it discerned the cumulative amount of variance explained by
all of the variables included in the step (R2). Additionally, this
technique illuminated the additional explanatory power of
the new set of predictors (R2 change and F change identified
the improvement in R2 when the latest variables were placed
into the regression). Finally, our data met the requirements
for this analysis since the dependent variable had an interval
level of measurement and the sample lacked multicollinearity
and heteroskedasticity.

Table 2 presents the three models that explain electoral
participation of gays and lesbians. Model 1 included only the
resource variables while Model 2 adds the framing factors.
The last model included all of the independent variables.

When exploring the calculations, some clear patterns
emerged. First, the entire model provided somewhat robust
effect sizes. In the final regression, the cumulative effects of
every variable accounted for 33.5% of the variance in elec-
toral activism (p < .001). Second, each set variables made a
unique contribution to the analysis, indicated through the
R2 changed in the second and third regressions. In the first
regression, all of the resource variables accounted for 8% of
variance for electoral activism (p < .001). Next, the framing
variables, net the effects of the resource variables, contrib-
uted another 15% to R2 (p < .001). Lastly, the mobilizing
structures contributed another 10% of predictive powers
beyond the influence of the resource and framing variables
(p < .001).

Specific variables also made unique contributions. Educa-
tional attainment was statistically significant across all
models (although the beta coefficient slipped from .31 to .16

in the three different regressions the probability was always
less than .001). The framing variables remained important as
well. Before adding the networking variable in model 3, the
factors of hate crime victimization, being out publicly, and
the sense of collective efficacy had significant standardized
coefficients between .23 and .17 (p < .001 or p < .01). After
adding the LGB membership variable, the framing variables
remained significant but saw their strength of association
drop a bit (p < .05 or p < .01). Hate crime victimization fell to
.16 while public identities and collective efficacy impressions
dipped to .14 and .11. In the last regression, the membership
variable netted the largest association (beta = .36, p < .001).
Finally, the resource variables of family income and gender
never rejected the null.

Discussion

By trying to discover the factors that inspired electoral activ-
ism among gays and lesbians, this study offers a unique look
into a retrospective sample of activists and non-activists. The
study also offers a more theoretically comprehensive analysis
than previous studies because this quantitative study synthe-
sizes the insights of “resource,” “framing,” and “mobilization”
theories of political participation. While researchers have
tested similar models among heterosexual populations, this is
not true among studies of gay and lesbian activists (LGB
studies rarely go beyond a handful of variables at a single
time). By taking an integrated approach, we hoped that the
final regression model would be especially robust. Likewise,
by embracing theoretical breadth and interdisciplinary eclec-
ticism, we intended to eliminate or minimize the presence of
spurious or confounding relationships. Finally, the coeffi-
cients in a study that combines alternative theories allows for
a better understanding of the relative importance of each type
of variable.

Table 2 Ordinary Least Squares Regressions of Electoral Activism and Resource, Framing, and Social Network Variables

Independent variable Model 1 Model 2 Model 3

Resource variables
Family income .00 (.05) .02 (.05) .04 (.04)
Educational attainment .31*** (.07) .22*** (.06) .16** (.06)
Gender (male = 1) .03 (.12) .03 (.11) .07 (.10)
Framing
Experienced a hate crime .21*** (.03) .16** (.02)
Public gay or lesbian identity .23*** (.05) .14* (.05)
Gay and lesbian collective efficacy .17** (.06) .11* (.06)
Mobilizing structure
LGB group membership .36*** (.11)
Adjusted R2 .08 .23 .33
F 8.80*** 12.97*** 18.31***
R2 change .149 .105
F change 15.53*** 37.98***

*p < .05; **p < .01; ***p < .001. Standard error (r).

Swank and Fahs 1389

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Our results highlighted two primary findings: First, gays
and lesbians showed clear electoral participation; and second,
resource, framing, and mobilization theories were all relevant
to gay and lesbian activism.3 The mobilizing factor of mem-
bership in a LGB organization provided the strongest associa-
tion.4 While involvement in gay and lesbian social groups
seemed to beget greater electoral activism, future research
may want to explore the mechanisms that drive this associa-
tion. Movement scholars suggest that membership in any
civic associations increases the chance of being asked to join
political event (Lim, 2008). Moreover, integration into LGB
groups probably fosters some aspects of collective action
frames that we failed to study. Qualitative works by Taylor
and Whittier (1992) and Masequesmay (2003) suggested that
extended conversations in gay-only settings fostered more
in-group camaraderie and sharper distinctions between het-
erosexual and sexual minority communities. Future research
may want to see if these claims are accurate and if additional
qualities of LGB groups enabled political activism. Perhaps
being ensconced in other types of political groups inspires
greater electoral activism (e.g., belonging to college Demo-
crats, feminist organizations, or unions). Similarly, informal
socialization processes in primary groups may predispose
people to activism. Gays and lesbians may show greater incli-
nations to political activism if their families debate politics,
they took a gender studies classes in college, or they routinely
sat through religious sermons that chastised homosexuality.
Of course, the list of possible socializing agents is quite vast
and future researchers can explore the impact of communica-
tive acts in many different types of settings.

Our data also suggests that framing variables are important
as well. There are political consequences of being “closeted”
or “out.” Respondents who routinely concealed their sexual
orientation were less politically engaged than those who did
not. (Bernstein, 1997; Polletta & Jasper, 2001; Taylor &
Whittier, 1992). This may be partially a development of self-
interest—it seems wise to protect gay or lesbian rights when
one fully embraces such identities. However, electoral activ-
ism can be related to definitions of a liberated self. After years
of being ignored or vilified, silenced peoples are often relieved
or excited when they feel safe enough to advocate for greater
rights. Similar satisfactions may also come from the breaking
of demeaning social roles and for doing the “right thing” of

protecting more vulnerable gays and lesbians who are too
afraid to do so themselves.

The importance of other frames was revealed as well. Pre-
sumably to the chagrin of homophobic bullies, hate crimes
did not seem to intimidate gays and lesbians into submission.
Instead, surviving violent homophobic attacks seemed to
generate resilient gays and lesbians who were more resolved
in their political efforts. It could be that violence of this sort
shatters illusions of a fair or acceptable status quo, or it could
highlight a sense of urgency when seeking social change.
Regardless, ensuing rounds of research should determine if
other forms of experienced discrimination propel activism.
Greater activism may be connected to blocked opportunities
in schools, housing, workplaces, court proceedings, hospitals,
etc. The topic of collective efficacy seems important as well.
Gays and lesbians were more resigned to stay out of electoral
politics when they thought the government was unresponsive
to gay and lesbian demands. Conversely, involvement in poli-
tics was much higher for the respondents who envisioned that
a gay and lesbian rights movement could force concessions
from a sometimes hostile and recalcitrant government.

Finally, the resource model had mixed results. The factor of
educational attainment moved people to activism, while
issues of social class and gender did not. It appears as if edu-
cation prompted greater electoral activism. It could be that
the resource theorists are correct in claiming that colleges
foster the sort of analytical skills that are necessary for activ-
ism. It is also possible that content of college curriculums
inspires greater liberalism among students and that college
settings often grant access to a wider scope of gay and lesbian
social circles.

The lack of significance for salary can mean two different
things. Class backgrounds may in fact fail to predict electoral
gay and lesbian rights activism. This would nullify the famil-
iar patterns of older left movements mostly drawing from the
working and poorer social classes (e.g., labor and socialist
movements). This interpretation would confirm “New Social
Movement” theories that claim that gay and lesbian rights
activism is more concerned with challenging cultural codes
than with the unequal distribution of financial resources
(Johnston, Larana, & Gusfield, 1994; Van Dyke, Soule, &
Taylor, 2004). On the other hand, the proponents of the
“resource” theories of participation could argue that our
research methodologies probably underestimated the effects
of family income. Using an online survey perhaps distorts the
impact of salaries in that people who use the internet may
have higher class standings than people who do not. However,
some methodological papers have found that the demo-
graphic characteristics of online and mail samples of gays and
lesbians were “practically indistinguishable” and “equivalent”
(Koch & Emrey, 2002; Riggle et al., 2005). Income could have
also presented a stronger impact if we included different
measures of electoral activism. Matters of wealth and salaries

3While our data finds that gays and lesbians are involved in electoral activism,

our measures are not perfect. With our measures, it is impossible to know how

many times a respondent engaged in each political action, as the act of voting

for gay cause can mean several things (be it voting on a referendum or select-

ing a candidate that promotes greater rights for sexual minorities).
4Because access to LGBT organizations and exposure to discrimination could

vary by location (Tewksbury, Grossi, Suresh, & Helms, 1999), it is possible that

these findings may not fully reflect the activism of gays and lesbians who reside

outside of Midwestern and Southern states.

1390 Gay and lesbian electoral activism

© 2013 Wiley Periodicals, Inc. Journal of Applied Social Psychology 2013, 43, pp. 1382–1393



could have been more important if we asked questions
about the financial methods of swaying electoral cam-
paigns (e.g., making a donation to a political candidate,
a political party, or a gay or lesbian Political Action
Committee).

Because our entire model accounted for roughly one third
of the variance in electoral activism, future research should
insert new variables into their studies. Scholars might see if
the demographic variables of race, age, or residential mobility
influences political participation (Bailey, 1998; Harder &
Krosnick, 2008). Other studies might explore the role of other
framing and social-psychological processes. Activism may be
connected to general impressions of discrimination, attribu-
tions of system blame, perceived salience of sexuality, cer-
tainty about sexual orientation, favorable impressions or
solidarity with other gays and lesbians, a sense of interde-
pendence and mutual fate among gays and lesbians, a dislike
for heterosexuals, or perceptions of civic duties (Ashmore
et al., 2004; Hertzog, 1996; Swank & Fahs, 2011; Van Zomeren
et al., 2008). To measure such topics, researchers might look
at recent versions of modern heterosexist and internalized
homophobia scales (Mayfield, 2001; Morrison & Morrison,
2002). Changes in governmental actions or political opportu-
nity structures could alter the electoral activism of sexual
minorities as well. A study by Swank and Fahs (2011) found
increases in contributions to political candidates when gay
right initiatives were on the ballot and Riggle, Rostosky, and
Horne (2009) discovered an increase in gay and lesbian activ-
ism for sexual minorities who lived in the 13 states that held
referendum votes on banning “same-sex marriages” in 2004.
However, preliminary bivariate calculations could not detect
significant relationships between our measures of electoral
activism and any sorts of state-wide policies (this included
public votes on same-sex marriages as well as laws on whether
sexual orientation was included in antidiscrimination and
hate crime laws).

Understanding the impact of different mobilizing
structures could also be illuminating. Befriending straight
activists, living in liberal neighborhoods, or going to “gay-
friendly” colleges could foster greater activism. Conversely,
living in isolated rural communities or being raised in socially
conservative families or orthodox religious institutions could

dampen any inclinations to gay and lesbian activism.
Researchers may also see how contact with movement activ-
ists and access to different recruiting apparatuses shape the
actions of the politically committed. Further, measuring the
ways that electronic networks such as listservs, Facebook and
Twitter affect activism may prove especially important to
online surveys like the one used in this study, as “weak tie”
versus “strong tie” activism can be explored.

Future researchers may also improve on our research
methods. First, when designing studies, it would be better to
have longitudinal studies because cross-sectional studies
often have temporal ordering problems. It is possible that
engaging in gay and lesbian rights activism can alter people’s
attitudes and/or their awareness of gay and lesbian groups.
Second, measurement errors regularly haunt survey data.
Critics might argue that the threshold of what constitutes an
activist is too low (e.g., greater specificity about the frequen-
cies of voting would be better). Single-item measures for the
framing variables might miss some key dimensions as well.
Shortcomings with item wording can also undermine the reli-
ability of measures. Perhaps the phrase “giving signs that they
are gay or lesbian” is vague as the item of “gays and lesbians”
working together deals more with cooperation between the
genders than the collective power of this cooperation. Ques-
tions of social desirability may be especially relevant to our
activist identity measures, as participants may want to sound
good to themselves by overstating the amount that they fight
for social justice. Finally, our binary coding of gender would
not be exhaustive if some transgendered or intersexed
respondents decided to complete our survey.

Overall, this study provides evidence for the centrality of
framing with regard to gay and lesbian activism, and it sug-
gests that, despite the intensity of heteronormativity experi-
enced by the gay and lesbian communities in this country,
gay and lesbian populations have found a variety of ways to
make their voices heard and combat homophobia through
electoral means. These findings especially point to direc-
tions for future research, which could ideally explore
whether these variables predict joining protests for gay
and lesbian rights in tandem with activism for other social
causes as well (e.g., women’s rights, environmentalism,
racial prejudice, or antiwar activism).

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