JACK GERMOND and Jules Witcover entitled their book on the 1984 American presidential election
Wake us up When its Over. If I were to write a tome on the current campaign, I’d call it
Wake me up When it Starts. Not that it would be worth the effort — no sane publisher would print it and none of you would wish to read it. This underwhelming election makes watching grass grow look positively exciting. I am gripped by its tedium.
That is an extraordinary confession. If a political obsessive such as myself finds it hard to be inspired by this exercise, then heaven help more normal members of the citizenry. There are, I suppose, a few souls who are as interested in the hustings as I ought to be. They are Peter Riddell, Danny Finkelstein and some bloke who runs an impressive website by the name of www.pollingreport.co.uk (although www.sad-as-hell.com would be more honest). In truth, though, I do not believe that even this trio is very excited at the moment. This election is too flat even for them.
There are three reasons widely offered to explain why this campaign is so anaemic. These are: “They are all the same”; “it is obvious who is going to win”; and “voters (especially younger ones) are not interested in politics any more.” In my view, each explanation is mistaken.
“They are all the same” is an easy cliché but inaccurate. The differences between the three main parties might not be as stark as in 1983, but they are serious, nonetheless. They are more substantial than the policy disputes between Labour and the Conservatives in, for instance, the 1950s, when 75 to 80 per cent of the electorate were prepared to cast a vote on polling day. No one can assert with confidence that Britain would be exactly the same irrespective of whether Tony Blair, Michael Howard or Charles Kennedy were Prime Minister. “They are all the same” will not do as a means of understanding this smotheringly soporific contest.
Nor will “it is obvious who is going to win” suffice, either. If The Times/Populus/ITV tracker poll is correct, then Labour has a lead of eight to nine percentage points. This is a decent cushion, but a smaller advantage than the front-runner had during the elections of 2001, 1997, 1987, 1983 and for much of 1979. Besides, with rare exceptions such as 1964 and 1992, it is always “obvious” who is going to win office in Britain — even if occasionally (1970) the side which is destined for victory ends up losing.
I am also not having “voters (especially younger ones) are not interested in politics any more”. Let me offer you one piece of evidence to contradict the fashionable notion that the public (particularly “yoof”) has recently and suddenly been turned off the political process. It is an entry from one of Tony Benn's diaries. It reads: “To Bristol for a recording of a programme for the younger generation (15 to 25-year-olds). What emerged was: 1, Great ignorance of Parliament and its work. 2, Cynicism about politicians and their sincerity. 3, Great gap between politicians and young people. 4, No inspiration of young people by politicians. 5, Healthy disregard of politicians’ conceit. 6, Dislike of party or intra-party squabbles except as entertainment.” This was, Mr Benn concluded, “all very revealing and disquietening”. The date? October 23, 1954.
There are three better explanations for the monotony that characterises the current campaign. The first is that the “pre-campaign” has drained the life out of the campaign proper. This is less valid for Labour than for the Tories. During his party’s pre-campaign, Gordon Brown seemed to have been sent to Siberia (or, worse still, Scotland). He now appears to be married to the Prime Minister. Mr Howard's dilemma is that he is merely repeating what he was saying for months before the fight began in earnest. It looks as if he is running low on ammunition. The rest of us are running low on the strength required to remain conscious.
The next element is the triumph of targeting. In no previous campaign has so much attention been focused so precisely on potentially uncommitted voters in marginal seats. If you are one of the million voters whose franchise really counts, then you will have received dozens of letters and telephone calls from the party headquarters. The remaining 95 per cent of the population, perhaps fortunately, have been virtually ignored by the party professionals. The election barely exists for them.
The final aspect concerns the television coverage. For all the novel technical devices that the channels have invented this time, in truth the reporting of this campaign is much as it has been for decades. There are (often uninformative) press conferences in the mornings, shameless stunts in the afternoons and speeches to the faithful in the evenings. Rigor mortis has set in to this format.
All of which presents a serious problem. It is most improbable that other elections will not have a “pre-campaign” of some duration, nor are the parties likely to back away from ruthlessly identifying the crucial electors and disengaging from the rest. Future ballots could be as comatose as this one. Unless, that is, the television stations collectively vow to do something about it.
The solution lies with debates between the leaders. The BBC, ITV and Sky should promise to simultaneously devote 90 minutes to debates on the three Sundays before the election and promise airtime to any of the party leaders who shows up. If only one of them does so, let him or her enjoy the free publicity. It is a outrage that we do not have debates. We are virtually the only major country not to hold them. We are entitled to them. Television has it within its power to force them to occur. It cannot be beneficial for democracy to have elections conducted on tranquillisers. Wake me up when they start debating the issues directly.
