Rosenfeld is the editor of Voting Booth, a project of the Independent Media Institute.
During an afternoon of public hearings where the Arizona Senate sent seven new election bills to the next stage of legislative review, Kari Lake, leaned into the podium, and, after introducing herself as “the Trump-endorsed candidate for governor,” told the Government Committee how she felt her 2020 presidential election vote had been stolen.
“I thought my vote was taken,” Lake said on January 24. “I was handed a ballot and the Sharpie that was given to me bled right through [the paper ballot]. So I believe that my vote may have been adjudicated; somebody else decided who I voted for. And that’s unacceptable.”
Lake urged the panel to approve Senate Bill 1119, a transparency measure that would require counties to treat digital images of every scanned paper ballot as a public record, and publish them after an election. The images, which show every side of every ballot card, and have an appended text file listing all of the votes, are the first electronic record created in the vote-counting process. The paper ballots, digital images, and the final results database—which include all of the votes from every ballot cast—can all be compared for consistency.
“We vote in private, but we count in public,” said Sen. Sonny Borrelli, a Republican and panel member. “And your ballot is a public record, and it should be made that transparent.”
“The last election was shady. It was shoddy. It was corrupt,” Lake said. “I urge you to support this and any other piece of legislation that would shore up our vote.”
Lake’s stolen-vote scenario in Maricopa County, home to Phoenix and most Arizona’s voters, has been rebutted by county election officials. It also was previously refuted by independent analysts who examined the county’s 2020 public election records. These responses, notably, share a common feature with the Arizona Senate’s ballot image bill. They rely on essential public records to confirm election results, which is an emerging trend in swing states.
Two red-run presidential battleground states, Georgia, and Florida are taking steps to use digital ballot images in more public ways at the finish line of their 2022 elections. For several years, Maryland also has used digital ballot images to double-check the vote totals from every contest before certifying winners. Several counties in western states, blue- and red-run, use ballot images to verify votes. Some counties post their ballot images online.
One day after Lake’s testimony, the Florida Democratic Party, five legislators—all Democrats—and two voters sued Miami-Dade County to force it to treat the ballot images in their counting systems as public records, and save them for 22 months, which is the retention standard in federal and state election law. Their complaint explained the image’s role and significance.
“The digital [voting] systems used in Miami-Dade County and throughout Florida function by capturing an electronic digital image of every ballot,” the lawsuit said. “The votes are counted from the ballot images, not from the paper ballots themselves, making the digital images a necessary and automatic part of the chain of custody and audit trail of official election records that produce the vote count.”
“While paper ballots show the voters’ choices, they do not show how and if the voting machines counted those votes,” the complaint explained. “By contrast, retained digital ballot images and their corresponding electronic CVRs [cast vote record, or the text file of the votes detected on each ballot] show how the voting machine counted those votes. This is especially important in the case of ballots determined to be overvotes [more than one vote in a race] and undervotes [no vote], some of which may be lawful votes that are not initially counted by the voting machines. Preservation of the digital ballot images and the CVRs serve as public transparency and audit measures to confirm the accuracy of the official results.”
The Democrats’ suit comes as Florida’s Division of Elections is finalizing new rules and procedures to use ballot images in recounts, which is a different process than the initial counting of votes (the target of the Democrats’ lawsuit). Under Florida’s new recount rules, paper ballots would be rescanned by an entirely separate electronic system, creating a new set of ballot images that would become the basis for the recount’s results. (The scanned paper ballots would be archived as a library, where disputed ballots could be retrieved.)
Preserving and making the images public are also part of Georgia’s S.B. 202, its election reform bill that has been challenged by the U.S. Department of Justice for sections that the DOJ said have a racially discriminatory intent, which would be illegal. S.B. 202 states that ballot images are public records and says, “the Secretary of State shall create pilot program for the posting of digital images of the scanned paper ballots created by the voting system.”
Taking a closer look
When Lake criticized Maricopa County’s adjudication process, she was referring to the way that software on scanners flagged sloppily marked or unreadable paper ballots and set them aside for human review. County election workers look at ballot images to determine, or adjudicate, the voter’s intent. If the intent is clear, that vote is added to the tally. (The voting system logs those decisions, which become part of the final database of every vote in every race.)
Lake said that county workers were stealing votes at this stage of the process, including hers. In short, S.B. 1119 would allow skeptics like Lake to see the individual building blocks of election results. However, she would not be able to retrieve the image of her ballot, as ballots have no personally identifying information printed on them. That is intentional to keep voting secret.
At the hearing, Senate Government Committee Chair, Republican Kelly Townsend, explained that the voting system manufacturer, Dominion, wanted Maricopa County to use sharpie pens because they left less ink residue on the scanner glass than regular pens. (Others at the hearing said the ballot layouts were designed so any bleed-through would not affect accurately reading the other side of the ballot card.) But Townsend, playing to a pro-Trump audience, said that too many ballots were adjudicated. That was suspicious, she said, rejecting Dominion’s explanation. She reminded her audience that she had referred the matter to Arizona’s attorney general.
“I am still waiting to hear from the attorney general—anxiously waiting,” she said.
What’s remarkable about Townsend’s comments was that deeper looks at the county’s public election records have already revealed why this line of conspiratorial thinking is unfounded. However, making ballot images public records in Arizona could address these concerns.
In Maricopa County’s 2020 presidential contest, where 2.1 million ballots were cast, scanners flagged about 11,900 ballots for adjudication, a trio of retired election auditors found in their analysis of the public election records. Of those ballots, two-thirds were “write-ins,” or voters writing candidate’s names. There was only a 533-vote difference between the adjudicated ballots for Biden and Trump. In other words, Maricopa County’s adjudication process would have had no impact on the presidential race’s statewide outcome, where Joe Biden defeated Donald Trump by 10,457 votes. (This analysis came from looking at the final spreadsheet of every vote in the presidential race.)
A ballot image analysis could have even more specifically addressed Lake’s accusation—as it would be examining records that were immediately created as the paper ballot is scanned.
In Bartow County, Georgia, a ballot image analysis done by Citizens’ Oversight, a non-partisan, non-profit, technology firm, of every contest in the 2020 general election only found one race on one ballot, among 50,000 ballots cast, where the adjudication by a county election worker clashed with the ballot image. Bartow and Maricopa Counties use Dominion voting systems.
“What we found, mainly, was they did a hell of a good job in this election,” said Raymond Lutz, executive director of Citizens’ Oversight Projects and lead developer of AuditEngine, the ballot image-reading software tool. “We’ve actually gone through and checked every other contest [in addition to the presidential results] and verified that it’s an absolute match with no deviations between them.”
Lutz did find some one-off errors in Bartow County, such as one ballot image where the voter’s intent was not accurately adjudicated—out of 50,000 ballots cast. Some voters will make all kinds of marks on ballots, or also write in a candidate’s name, Lutz said, which no electronic system can process. However, election workers make sense of most of those ballots. Lutz also has begun to analyze ballot images from the presidential election in metro Atlanta’s Fulton County. There, among an initial batch of 148,000 ballots, he found five ballots from neighboring Dekalb County. Voters apparently returned them via the wrong drop box, not realizing that they had crossed county lines.
Transparency and trust
It’s also notable that partisans on both sides of the aisle — Trump supporters in Arizona and Democrats in Florida — are both calling for more transparency and are citing ballot images as a crucial data set among public election records. It’s also notable that opposition to making ballot images public records in Florida—such as election officials saying they add to their workload, incur added expenses of buying computer memory cards, or slow down precinct voting as the images are saved—were rejected as inconsequential by supporters of S.B. 1119. Many of the Trump supporters testifying in Arizona urged legislators to require more transparency.
“I believe that the vote of an American citizen is the most precious item that a human being on the face of this Earth has,” said Celia Laughlin. “So, yes, invest whatever money it takes… Get the digital images. Pass these bills that are going to secure the election and free our hands to build trust in this election, build trust in our elections.”
This article was produced by Voting Booth, a project of the Independent Media Institute.



















image of U.S. President Donald Trump is displayed on a digital billboard in Times Square in New York on April 8, 2026.
Trump is stuck between two realities. Neither serves the American people
Normally, I worry that events may overtake a column. But not so with the Iran war.
I don’t worry about running afoul of a headline or Truth Social post from the president because what is said about the situation is no longer very relevant to the reality.
On April 8, Nick Catoggio, my Dispatch colleague, dubbed an earlier stoppage with Iran “Schrödinger’s ceasefire.” This was a reference to the famous thought experiment by the physicist Erwin Schrödinger, who was trying to explain the weirdness of “superpositionality” in quantum physics. A cat in a box is both dead and alive at the same time until you open the box. Schrödinger meant to illustrate the absurdity of the idea that particles aren’t any one thing, but a “cloud of probabilities.”
The Trump administration is stuck in a word cloud of probabilities of his own making. The war is over. The war is on. The war isn’t a war. We have a deal, but we don’t have a deal, but we’re about to have a deal. We destroyed Iran’s military. No, we left it intact. We want regime change. No we don’t. We already accomplished it. We “obliterated” Iran’s nuclear program a year ago. We had to go to war in February to prevent nuclear war. The Strait of Hormuz is open, closed, or something in-between. No deal without “unconditional surrender.” Let’s make a deal!
This everything-all-at-once vibe can be disorienting, particularly since most Americans didn’t have a war with Iran on their bingo cards until the shooting had already started. President Trump didn’t prepare the country or consult with Congress beforehand because he thought it would all be a smashing success in a matter of weeks.
The miscalculation that started it all: killing Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, and much of Iran’s senior leadership, on the first day of the war. To “the great proud people of Iran, I say tonight that the hour of your freedom is at hand,” Trump announced on Feb. 28. “When we are finished, take over your government. It will be yours to take. This will be probably your only chance for generations.”
I support regime change in Iran and shed no tears for Khamenei or his goons. But when you start a war by killing the regime’s top leaders, it’s not unreasonable for the remaining ones to conclude that you really intend regime change.
Khamenei was a murderous fanatic, but he was a fairly cautious one. He liked to threaten closing the Strait of Hormuz or attacking our regional allies, but he was reluctant to actually do it, fearing it would invite a regime change war. The mullahs and IRGC goons believed, not unreasonably, that if they lost their grip on power, they’d be lynched by the Iranian people they’ve brutalized for decades.
By starting with a regime change war, Trump removed any reason for the regime not to go for broke. When you have nothing to lose — particularly when you are a millenarian religious fanatic — a Persian Alamo strategy makes a lot of sense.
So Iran closed the Strait of Hormuz and attacked its neighbors.
But it turns out this wasn’t the Alamo. In the contest of wills, Trump blinked. The Iranian regime’s tolerance for punishment proved — so far — to be greater than Trump’s and that of our gulf allies. Militarily we could finish the job, but that would require ground troops and much greater economic turmoil. In a conflict Trump launched unilaterally without the prior support of Congress, NATO or the American people, Trump doesn’t have the political capital for that.
But that’s only half the problem. Trump wants the war over, but he doesn’t want to pay — militarily, economically, politically — what that would cost. So he wants to make a deal that ends it. But there is no deal available that wouldn’t come at an equally undesirable cost. Any deal that looks like what President Obama struck with the Iranians would be too embarrassing to bear. But the Iranians are convinced that they can get just such a deal, and they’re willing to drag things out as long as it takes.
The result: Trump’s in a box of his own making. He thinks he can talk his way out by simply asserting a reality that doesn’t exist. When the financial markets get nervous, he announces a breakthrough that is, at best, a possibility. When the Iranians agree to a deal that looks similar to one Obama might negotiate, Trump goes back to his threats.
It can’t go on forever. But I’m sure it’ll last until long after this column is forgotten.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.