“I don’t want everybody to vote. Elections are not won by a majority of people – they never have been, from the beginning of our country, and they are not now. As a matter of fact, our leverage in the elections quite candidly goes up as the voting populace goes down.”

That was Paul Weyrich, a founding father of the modern American right, in 1980. Weyrich (who co-founded the Heritage Foundation and many other rightwing groups) had a keen sense of political reality. He understood that politics was not an abstract game, not a live-fire instance of a Model UN competition. Politics, Weyrich understood, was about power. The question, therefore, of “who should vote” was in his mind commendably linked to “well, what are you trying to achieve?” Because he was on the right, he grasped intuitively that if the political power of the working class could be constrained, all the better for his policy program; and so, in those more innocent days, he was willing to say so out loud.

Today, there is nothing more fashionable in Democratic circles than what you might call anti-anti-voting. Even Eric Holder is into it. These earnest sorts are generally eager to explain that in-person voting fraud is uncommon, for example, and so voter-ID laws are attacking a non-existent problem. The more daring of them will even flirt with suggestions that the American right actually knows this, and (despite lacking Weyrich’s candor) is simply interested in reducing the participation of people by any means necessary.

But there the argument usually stops: the right argues “let’s make it harder to vote,” and the good-government liberal replies “no, let’s not.” In other words, the debate is generally between “let’s do something that will help the right” and “let’s do nothing.” The problem there is the asymmetry in what each side can expect from getting their way in particular places: the negotiation becomes where – which states? Which cities? – the right will be able to pursue their program of Weyrichism. California, no; Texas, yes. When the contingent circumstances produce rightwing control of a swing state (say, Ohio), then you can be sure what will come next: say, purging the roll of registered voters who have not turned out recently, in an attempt to prevent them from voting next time, too.

What would a better strategy look like? Imagine, tomorrow, California (or New York, or Massachusetts, or Colorado) enacted a hypothetical bill having a single provision: “All persons residing in this state who are at least 16 years old shall enjoy the right to vote.” Most obviously, such a law would extend the franchise to 16- and 17-year-olds, who – like their 18- and 19-year-old kin – tilt strongly to the left. But such a law would also extend the franchise to non-citizens (by permitting all residents to vote), which was common in many states until the early part of the 20th century. Such a law would also, in a stroke, end the disenfranchisement of people who have been convicted of crimes, and indeed permit prisoners to vote while they were serving their sentences.

And, to be clear, those new voters could vote in all elections, state and federal. The constitution assigns to states the task of deciding who may vote – the only rules are that the franchise may not be denied on grounds of race, sex or age if the person is at least 18. But long before the 19th amendment extended the vote to women, states like Wyoming and Oregon did it on their own.

This proposal has many advantages over a defensive struggle against voter ID and other restrictions because (as Weyrich put it), it would enable the left’s “leverage in elections” to increase. Want to abolish Ice? Let the families who most fear the jackboots have a say. Want tuition-free public universities? Let the students staring down the barrel of the student-loan empire have a say. Want criminal justice reform? Accountability for police violence? Give the prisoners who have been ground up by the system some power to make it happen.

Oh, and: are you worried that such a measure would be unpopular? Provoke reactionary backlash from white nationalists, or whomever else? Then you’d better make sure that the law is effective in time for the next election, so all your new friends can help you keep the power you’ve won. Take a page from Republicans, who understand that although their disenfranchisement measures will be unpopular with the newly disempowered, they have – by definition – nothing to fear from those people.

As a one-sentence summary of the current predicament, we could do worse than Weyrich: “Elections are not won by a majority of people.” He is right, and observe the result all around you. They are not, but they should be. And, at minimum, when our adversaries confess their fears – “I don’t want everybody to vote”– then we should set ourselves to delivering them.