The Social Dynamics of Papal Elections
Choosing a pope is a unique experience. Most cardinal electors, especially new ones, approach a papal election as foreigners to its dynamics. Indeed, few human beings have ever participated in an election in which there is a fixed number of voters who typically cast ballots for one of their own number, do so repeatedly, and do so until someone reaches the threshold of a two-thirds majority, a number that is quite difficult to reach in the kind of single-ballot elections with which we’re all familiar. From a social psychological standpoint, this matters.
Like many observers prior to this May’s election of Pope Leo XIV, I presumed an American citizen would not be elected pope in a global Church that frowned on consolidating religious authority with geopolitical power. When one of Cardinal Prevost’s supporters asserted that he “had the votes,” I brushed it off as just another rumor in a flood of them. In hindsight, I had misinterpreted his words. It didn’t mean that Cardinal Prevost had the votes lined up. (Nor did it mean he was seeking votes.) It meant that His Eminence, now His Holiness, had a pathway to the papacy—and a short one at that.
In their forthcoming assessment and evaluation of the pre-conclave cardinal relationship structure, a trio of Italian social network analysts explains why Cardinal Prevost’s election might have been anticipated. The authors focus on what they call network influence. Pooled across three different measures of this, Prevost was tops. There were others noted, of course; the trio’s research was right to predict that Cardinals Parolin, Tagle, Erdő, Aveline, and Zuppi would also be in the mix, given their “network centrality.” But there’s more than one way to find your name on ballots. Cardinal Grech, who wasn’t in the top fifteen in “status,” “mediation power,” or “coalition building capacity,” still earned a look—and a number of votes. How? He made up for the gap in those measures with travel, handshakes, and influence as head of the recent Synod on Synodality. Of course, network analysis cannot account for what men think of each other—only how they are connected.
I realize this kind of talk may bother some Catholics. A papal election indeed concerns the discernment of the Holy Spirit, through much prayer, listening, discussion, and conversation. But as Pope Benedict XVI explained, the Holy Spirit doesn’t pick popes. He does, however, prevent the gates of Hell from prevailing against the Church. The electors are human beings, creatures who are affected by personalities, social forces, and mundane human phenomena. Cardinals enjoy friendships but also exhibit misgivings. They trust some of their brothers and not others. A conclave heightens this with an added sense of gravitas and angst. With whom can they speak freely and honestly? Will they be invited to dinner to discuss candidates? How can they get answers to their questions without appearing ignorant? This is all normal human behavior. It’s why we pray for them.
Perceptions of a pronounced lack of familiarity among the cardinal electors were rampant in the runup to May’s conclave. Pre-conclave chatter about “taking our time” and “not rushing” was a common mantra. Consistories—official meetings to which all cardinals are invited and during which they’re enabled to dialogue with each other and with the Holy Father—would have helped ameliorate this problem. But Pope Francis did not call a meaningful consistory for the past decade. Hence, weak ties were far more common than strong ones.
But weak ties aren’t nothing. Indeed, the “strength of weak ties” thesis, well-documented in the field of social networks and reinforced in the Italian analysts’ new research, can be applied to the election of a pope. Weak ties, which would refer here to relationships a cardinal has with other cardinals outside his immediate or closer circle, can play an important role in accessing new or different information, expanding reach, and bridging divisions. Every elected pope has had a “ground game,” even if he didn’t know it—cardinal friends and advocates seeking to deliver votes for him. Even small acts can make a difference. In a personal conversation, a cardinal too old to vote this time around remarked that one of his brother cardinals whom he knew—though not well—had whispered to him, “Think about Bergoglio” as they both got on the bus to head from the Domus Sanctae Marthae to the Sistine Chapel for the second ballot in 2013. A decade later he still recalled that brief interaction—the simple planting of an idea by someone to whom he had a weak tie. Weak ties matter.
In the end, the trio’s study—impressive in its breadth and depth—is an enlightening read but no more helpful to explaining Cardinal Prevost’s election than was my friend Giovanni Sadewo’s far more narrow analysis of overlapping dicastery memberships, which similarly signaled Prevost. Sadewo prudently elected to avoid categorizations of cardinals as conservative or liberal, where the trio of analysts made some mistakes. They described Cardinal Parolin as a liberal—he’s a moderate—but Cardinal Tolentino de Mendonça as a “soft” liberal. (There’s nothing “soft” about the progressive content he backs as head of the Dicastery for Culture and Education.) Their network measures also fail to discern personal realities. Cardinal Sarah may have ranked high in status and moderate in coalition building, but he lacked the support of his fellow African electors and was considered too old to begin with. And Cardinal Fernández, Prefect of the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith, may be high in status and mediation power but lacks wide respect among the College.
Indeed, Sadewo’s straightforward count of curial positions—Cardinal Prevost had eleven and was in charge of one of the most important ones—made evident how the cardinal enjoyed the “broadest familiarity and network within the Roman Curia,” if even only for two years. For the record, not all dicastery memberships are equal; some meet regularly, while others rarely. But you get the picture: Prevost was well known in Rome and made positive impressions in short order. On the flip side, Pope Francis had a penchant for ignoring other cardinals (all of whom are supposed to assist and advise him in governing the Church) while piling work onto Prevost and a small number of others he trusted. This, of course, advantaged the curial cardinals, who constituted a considerable percentage of the papabile this time around.
In Conclave 2025, Cardinals Parolin and Erdő appear to have each drawn a significant number of votes, perhaps forty or more for the former and no more than thirty for the latter, but neither tally grew by very much, nor was a combination of their voting blocs sufficient to get either one close to the eighty-nine necessary to reach two-thirds. Since Cardinal Prevost appears to have wound up with more than 100 votes, a significant share of Parolin’s and Erdő’s supporters gravitated toward the former, although in what order and on which ballot I cannot tell. But it didn’t take long.
Speed = Exhaustion + Indifference + Momentum
A portion of the pressure to be speedy is physiological. Following a strenuous interregnum, complete with dozens of Roman dinner meetings that start later than the average Midwestern restaurant closes, electors typically enter the conclave exhausted. In this May’s version, the situation was even worse: Pope Francis died the morning of Easter Monday, just about the time these senior prelates were looking forward to quiet days of recovery after the marathon that is Holy Week. Cardinal Pietro Parolin, who presided over the conclave, may well have sealed his own electoral fate by permitting the homilist before the first vote to drone on endlessly. Parolin’s subsequent offer to postpone the first vote until the following day was roundly rejected—and the next day so was he. Amid the pomp and circumstance, exhaustion takes its toll, nature calls in a setting without toilets, and patience is tested. But none of these forces would predict any particular candidate—only a desire to finish the job as quickly as possible.
Another predictor of a rapid conclave is that a large and diverse Sacred College, its members unfamiliar with each other, may have fostered an element of indifference among some share of the electorate. Indifferent voters are certainly unlikely to participate in “blocking” another candidate, a move that would typically extend the conclave. Indifference does not mean lack of interest. Nor is an indifferent elector necessarily unhappy with his choice. It just means he has no strong opinion. Indeed, a handful of cardinals skipped the 2025 general congregations meetings and showed up in Rome just before the conclave commenced, signaling one of two things: they already knew whom they wished to vote for—it’s possible—or else they would choose between the handful of names that received significant votes on the first ballot.
Indifference is also associated with the “bandwagon” effect, another social behavior about which network analysts can only speculate. The bandwagon effect is pivotal and has been evident in the past three papal elections. How does it work? It is rooted in a psychological desire to want to endorse the candidate that seems on his way to victory. It is different from what’s known as a “sincere” voting strategy, sticking with the candidate you believe is best, no matter what happens. But neither is it a “strategic” voting method—switching to capitalize on opportunities. Instead, it’s the “pile on” when cardinal electors discern that their brothers have started to coalesce around one man.
The bandwagon effect is particularly discernible in sequential and multi-ballot elections—like a conclave—and is thought to commence before the voter believes that the frontrunner has clinched a winning majority. That is, it is not just a phenomenon that pushes a candidate over the two-thirds mark, but one that tends to develop earlier when a candidate’s momentum becomes noticeable. Hence, slow growth (or worse, no growth or modest decline) in votes for a particular candidate across sequential ballots is typically fatal to a candidacy, even if that candidate had many votes to begin with. In the last three papal conclaves, momentum has been critical. Some cardinal will lead after the first ballot—an optimal scenario, in theory—but if that lead doesn’t grow notably on the second ballot, his candidacy is probably sunk.
Practically, this means that how a popular candidate’s votes grow matters. For example, it would be far more beneficial (for election) for an initial thirty-vote-getter to pick up another twenty on the second ballot than it would be to receive forty votes on the first ballot and only an extra ten during the second. They amount to the same sum, but they convey a decidedly different energy and predict a divergent future. The 30+20 scenario represents a 66% growth rate and is poised to pick up more votes on the third ballot as the “bandwagon” effect could kick in with no possibility for anyone to discuss what’s happening (between the second and third ballots). It is difficult to anticipate just how many votes a candidate will begin with. But frontloading votes on the first ballot to “see where things stand” is not an optimal strategy, sensible though it may seem at the time. Coalitions of size ought to mix idealism with realism and discern wider interest in their favored candidates before they enter the conclave. Instead, too often the pre-conclave discussions spend far more time vetting candidates than discerning a realistic pathway, and then leaning on their own weak ties, to get one across the finish line.
Once inside the conclave, the dominant influential variable in delivering an election is the observed vote count. This may sound utterly self-evident, but what it means is that the vote count (tallied anew after each ballot) affects subsequent voting behavior more than any private conversation or politicking over breakfast, lunch, or dinner. This is because an observed vote count happens after every ballot, but the cardinal electors’ opportunity to discuss and consult with their fellows only occurs after every other ballot. If the growth rate between the first and second ballot is considerable, the election may be all but over by lunchtime. Indeed, the 2005 and 2013 papal elections—as well as the May 2025 conclave—have all followed this pattern. In 2005, Cardinal Bergoglio’s initial modest vote tally surged at the second ballot. If Cardinal Ratzinger’s early lead had not been bolstered by around twenty additional votes that second round, the Francis era might have begun eight years earlier. But by the time the College recessed for lunch, the gap was too big to bridge.
The same pattern, but with a twist, played out in 2013. In the election that yielded the Francis pontificate, Cardinal Bergoglio again trailed (this time Cardinal Scola) after the first ballot. But Scola and Cardinal Ouellet split the conservative vote—for four straight rounds—enabling neither of them to surge and perhaps challenge Bergoglio, who won on the fifth ballot. The 2013 election also taught conservatives a lesson: don’t split your vote. Unite behind one candidate, and—if that doesn’t work—back an optimal compromise rather than split the entire bloc.
Finally, character, likability, and gravity certainly matter. Cardinal Karol Wojtyła was elected pope in October 1978 even though very few electors expected to break a 455-year-old tradition and elect a non-Italian pope. What he had going for him was intelligence, amicability, wide social connectivity with his brother electors, and their deep respect for his leadership in the face of sustained, aggressive opposition from Poland’s Communist government.
Some comparable personal traits appear to have aided Cardinal Prevost’s election. A likable character and a generous spirit matters—and it attracts. So far, Pope Leo XIV appears more theologically Christologically-grounded than many who voted for him. While he seems patient, attentive, and is said to be administratively competent, plenty remains unknown about his governance and direction. More subtle signals, however, are already appearing for those with eyes to see. “Personnel is policy,” though, and significant decisions remain about dicastery heads and appointments for major metropolitan sees. His synodal style will emerge, while a new slate of cardinals may well wait until 2027, if not longer. The last absolute sovereign in Europe is free to take his time.
The Holy Spirit is still reliably and certainly at work in aiding the selection of the successor to the Chair of Saint Peter. That the process of getting there often leans on friendships, acquaintances, impressions, hope, and trust should not concern us. We’re human, after all. It couldn’t be otherwise.
Image licensed via Adobe Stock.