There’s a danger that the US supreme court, not voters, picks the next president | David Daley

It's frighteningly easy to imagine. Kamala Harris wins Georgia. The state elections board, under the sway of its new Trump-aligned commissioners, grinds the certification process to a slow halt to investigate unfounded fraud allegations, spurring the state's Republican legislature to select its own slate of electors.

Perhaps long lines in Philadelphia lead to the state supreme court holding polls open until everyone has a chance to vote. Before anyone knows the results, Republicans appeal to the US supreme court using the "independent state legislature" (ISL) theory, insisting that the state court overstepped its bounds and the late votes not be counted.

Or maybe an election evening fire at a vote counting center in Milwaukee disrupts balloting. The progressive majority on the state supreme court attempts to establish a new location, but Republicans ask the US supreme court to shut it down.

Maybe that last example was inspired by HBO's Succession. But in this crazy year, who's to say it couldn't happen? The real concern is this: if you think a repeat of Bush v Gore can't happen this year, think again.

There are dozens of scenarios where Trump's endgame not only pushes a contested election into the courts, but ensures that it ends up before one court in particular: a US supreme court packed with a conservative supermajority that includes three lawyers who cut their teeth working on Bush v Gore, one whose wife colluded with Stop the Steal activists to overturn the 2020 results, and another whose spouse flew the insurrectionist flag outside their home.

That's why those scenarios should cause such alarm, along with very real actions and litigation over voting rolls already under way in multiple states. Meanwhile, in Georgia, Arizona, Texas and elsewhere, Republican legislators and boards that might otherwise fly under the radar are busy changing election laws, reworking procedures, altering certification protocols, purging voters and laying the groundwork for six weeks of havoc after Americans vote on 5 November but before the electoral college gathers on 17 December.

Lower courts may brush aside this mayhem, as they did after the 2020 election. But if the election comes down to just one or two states with a photo finish, a Bush v Gore redux in which the court chooses the winner feels very much in play. The court divided along partisan lines in 2000; its partisan intensity, of course, has greatly intensified in the two decades since.