The contest to succeed Congresswoman Jan Schakowsky in Illinois’ Ninth Congressional District is shaping up to be one of the most competitive primaries in the district’s history.

The field is deep and diverse. Voters are choosing among experienced elected officials, longtime public servants who have never held office, young candidates bringing new energy, policy specialists, activists and professionals shaped by very different life experiences. By any measure, it is a field rich in talent.

And yet, the very strength of the field creates a challenge that is easy to overlook.

Illinois does not use ranked-choice voting. There will be no runoff. Whoever wins the Democratic primary – likely by a plurality, not a majority – will almost certainly become the district’s next representative in Congress. In a crowded race, that reality changes the meaning of a vote.

This is where many voters may find themselves quietly wrestling with a familiar but uncomfortable tension: whether to vote with their heart or with their head.

Voting with one’s heart is intuitive. It reflects admiration, alignment with personal values, or a connection to a candidate’s story or life experience. In a field like this one, many candidates inspire that response. That is a sign of a healthy democracy.

Voting with one’s head, however, asks a different question. It forces voters to consider not just who they prefer most, but how their vote interacts with the broader field. In a plurality system, a vote cast for one candidate is not merely expressive; it can shape the outcome by affecting which candidate ultimately emerges ahead of the rest.

Put differently: in a crowded primary, it is possible for a voter to support a candidate they admire deeply and still help produce an outcome they find less desirable simply because the field is divided.

This is not cynicism. It is arithmetic.

In a ranked-choice system, voters could resolve this tension by ranking preferences: voting first with their heart, then with their head. But absent that structure, voters are left to reconcile those instincts internally. The result is not apathy, but anxiety; a sense that every choice carries unintended consequences.

The dilemma is not unique to this race, but it is especially pronounced here given the field’s size and quality, as well as early polling that shows two candidates out front, another within striking distance, and the rest of the field clustered further behind. At the same time, it is important to note that all of the polls show a high percentage of undecided voters.

That reality leads some voters to ask a difficult question: if I strongly disfavor one of the leading candidates but much prefer someone polling further back, should I vote with my heart or instead vote for my preferred option among the likely leaders? This is the paradox of plurality elections: outcomes can hinge less on broad consensus than on fragmentation.

None of this is an argument for or against any particular candidate. It is, instead, an argument for honesty about how our system works and how it shapes the decisions voters are asked to make.

Democracy is often described as the pure expression of individual preference. In practice, it is also an exercise in collective responsibility. At times, those two ideas align perfectly. At other times, they pull in different directions.

When that happens, voters are left to decide which instinct to favor – passion or prudence, conviction or calculation, heart or head.

There is no universally correct answer. But acknowledging the question itself may be the most responsible place to begin.

Remember, the election is Tuesday, March 17th. Early voting information can be found here. 

Stephen H. Hagerty is a former mayor of Evanston.