Jeremy Corbyn, the hard-left Labour MP, wants to stand for the Labour Party leadership. But he’s not doing terribly well, with only eleven nominations from his fellow Labour MPs (leadership hopefuls need to be nominated by at least 35 MPs to make the cut, and be able to stand for leader). Most people, I think, would take this distinct lack of faith from their parliamentary colleagues as a sign that they shouldn’t really be in the contest at all. But in Corbyn’s case, there has been no such realisation – instead, a slightly surreal campaign has sprung up, pushed by supporters of Corbyn both inside and outside the Parliamentary Labour Party, urging Labour MPs to nominate Corbyn even if they don’t agree with him. Which, I think you’ll agree, is a little odd.
What is the point of nominating Corbyn if you don’t think he’d be a good candidate for the leadership? Well, the Corbynites argue, even if you personally don’t agree with our chap, he at least deserves a chance to state his views. His inclusion in the leadership contest will ‘widen the debate’.
Yes, that’s almost certainly true! But if the object is to ‘widen the debate’ by including a bunch of opinions very few people actually agree with – instead of, y’know, actually finding an effective leader who can make Labour electable again – then why not stick Jean-Marie Le Pen in there too?! Sure, nobody in the Labour Party will actually like anything he says – but having him there will ‘widen the debate’, so they should nominate him anyway! (Obviously this is absurd – Jean-Marie Le Pen is not even a Labour MP! – but I think you see the point I’m trying to make…)
By this logic, lots of people should vote at the next election for the nutty authoritarian idealism of the Green Party, or the closed-minded, racist nastiness of the BNP – even if they don’t like any of their policies – because including those parties will ‘widen the debate’. After all, having – say – eight or nine BNP MPs in the House Of Commons would certainly ‘widen the debate’! So we should all vote for them! Would that really be for the best, though?
The irony is that I suspect those pushing for Labour MPs to nominate Corbyn even if they don’t like him are some of the same people who were frothing at the mouth after last month’s General Election, squealing that the result of the vote didn’t accurately reflect the views of the people who had voted. If Labour MPs nominate Corbyn simply to ‘widen the debate’, the same will be true of the leaderships contest – the candidates nominated won’t actually reflect the views of the Parliamentary Labour Party. What is the point of 'widening the debate' to include views that don't actually represent the people the debate is for?
If Jeremy Corbyn wants to be the leader of the Labour Party, then he has every right to put himself forward for it. And good luck to him! But if people don’t buy what he’s selling, there’s no compulsion for his colleagues to nominate him regardless. If Labour MPs don’t want Corbyn to be the leader of their party, it would be foolish of them to nominate him. So, if Corbyn wants in, he needs to offer an agenda which will appeal to enough people to get him elected based on people actually supporting him – just like everybody else on that ballot has had to. Labour's hard left should stop trying to parachute in a candidate if that candidate has no right to be on the ballot on merit.
Showing posts with label debate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label debate. Show all posts
Tuesday, 9 June 2015
Saturday, 2 May 2015
What's in a name?
One thing which really annoyed me when I was watching the BBC Question Time special on Thursday evening, with all three main party leaders answering questions from an audience, was the over-use of people's names.
All three party leaders did it. A question would come from an audience member called, say, Joseph. "Well, Joseph, I think that's a really good question…" David Cameron, Ed Miliband or Nick Clegg (whoever's turn it was to face the audience) would begin in response. (It always is 'a really good question', isn' it? These politicians never tell an audience member that what they've just said is an absolute load of nonsense, do they? Even when it is…)
It's a device politicians use to seem personable, reasonable, down-to-earth people who genuinely care about the people they're talking to. But it doesn't wash, because it sounds rehearsed and stilted, and is obviously something their exorbitantly expensive voice coaches have trained them to do. It is a perfect example of the polished faux-sincerity which, rather than making politicians look like 'real people', just makes them seem slimy and willing to do anything to ingratiate themselves with voters. (It is probably worth pointing out that politicians, like as not, don't actually want to do this – but they feel they have to, because there is a perception that we, the voters, want to see politicians who behave like 'ordinary people'. Even though we then crucify them for giving us what we so often seem to be telling them we want from them.)
Ed Miliband, however, took this device a step further on Thursday, though. As well as using the names of audience members whose names had already been given (either by them, or by David Dimbleby), the Labour Party leader went out of his way to find out the name of anyone else who asked him anything as well. It was obvious that the only reason he was asking for people's names before going on to answer (or, in some cases, before going on to avoid answering) their questions was so that he could shoehorn his little "I'm a nice, genuine guy, honest!" gambit in before going on to say anything of any worth.
Unfortunately, the fact that he did this – and did it so obviously, too – made him appear the opposite of genuine, decent and reasonable. He came over as someone who can't answer a straight question without relying on the 'crutch' of little pre-prepared phrases and tricks designed to make him look good. It also made him seem profoundly creepy, asking people for their names, taking an unnatural interest in them as people and constantly returning to them, repeating their full name in little idioms which had obviously been carefully worked out in advance.
I would implore all politicians to drop this faux-sincerity that makes them look like such creepy trie-hards, and instead just be genuine; actually genuine – not forced 'genuine' which has clearly been carefully rehearsed to fit certain criteria. As with any performance, you come over best when you relax, and don't try so hard to look like you really, really want to be there.
All three party leaders did it. A question would come from an audience member called, say, Joseph. "Well, Joseph, I think that's a really good question…" David Cameron, Ed Miliband or Nick Clegg (whoever's turn it was to face the audience) would begin in response. (It always is 'a really good question', isn' it? These politicians never tell an audience member that what they've just said is an absolute load of nonsense, do they? Even when it is…)
It's a device politicians use to seem personable, reasonable, down-to-earth people who genuinely care about the people they're talking to. But it doesn't wash, because it sounds rehearsed and stilted, and is obviously something their exorbitantly expensive voice coaches have trained them to do. It is a perfect example of the polished faux-sincerity which, rather than making politicians look like 'real people', just makes them seem slimy and willing to do anything to ingratiate themselves with voters. (It is probably worth pointing out that politicians, like as not, don't actually want to do this – but they feel they have to, because there is a perception that we, the voters, want to see politicians who behave like 'ordinary people'. Even though we then crucify them for giving us what we so often seem to be telling them we want from them.)
Ed Miliband, however, took this device a step further on Thursday, though. As well as using the names of audience members whose names had already been given (either by them, or by David Dimbleby), the Labour Party leader went out of his way to find out the name of anyone else who asked him anything as well. It was obvious that the only reason he was asking for people's names before going on to answer (or, in some cases, before going on to avoid answering) their questions was so that he could shoehorn his little "I'm a nice, genuine guy, honest!" gambit in before going on to say anything of any worth.
Unfortunately, the fact that he did this – and did it so obviously, too – made him appear the opposite of genuine, decent and reasonable. He came over as someone who can't answer a straight question without relying on the 'crutch' of little pre-prepared phrases and tricks designed to make him look good. It also made him seem profoundly creepy, asking people for their names, taking an unnatural interest in them as people and constantly returning to them, repeating their full name in little idioms which had obviously been carefully worked out in advance.
I would implore all politicians to drop this faux-sincerity that makes them look like such creepy trie-hards, and instead just be genuine; actually genuine – not forced 'genuine' which has clearly been carefully rehearsed to fit certain criteria. As with any performance, you come over best when you relax, and don't try so hard to look like you really, really want to be there.
Saturday, 7 March 2015
An empty gesture
Oh, good! The discourse of the 2015 General Election continues to be dominated by Televised Debates between the main party leaders (or between the main and not-so-main party leaders, or between one party leader and a cat named Gilbert). Y'know, because it's not like there are any more important issues to talk about just a couple of months before an election – like policies, or anything…
I have written at length about why the TV Debates are a bad idea, and should be scrapped. They are a farce which threaten to turn British politics into a soap opera with relatable 'characters' at which one can cheer or boo. They pull focus away from local party candidates and onto party leaders, further diminishing the all-too-important link between constituency residents and their local parliamentary representative. And, as we are already seeing, they dominate the news agenda ahead of the things people should actually be talking about.
Despite all of this, the TV Debates look likely to go ahead anyway. But things still aren't straight forward! David Cameron – the Prime Minister, and leader of the Conservative party – is still refusing to take part in the debates. That is his prerogative.
Despite the fact that a debate between party leaders which does not include the leader of the current largest party – the party which is likely to be either the largest or second largest party in the next parliament too – would be rather odd, broadcasters are undeterred, and plan to go ahead with the debates with or without Mr Cameron. That is their prerogative.
However, the latest furore in this saga that will not die is how broadcasters should treat the Prime Minister's absence (if absent he be). Those keen to paint Mr Cameron as 'scared' of the debates (because who doesn't love political discourse which is lifted straight from the vernacular of eight-year-old playground bullies?) would like to see an 'empty chair' in his stead. In my opinion, however, this would be the very worst thing the broadcasters could do, in the event of a debate which did not include the Prime Minister.
Imagine how this kind of debate would go. Seven eerily-lit lecterns in front of a studio audience – six of them occupied by the leaders of the Labour Party, the Liberal Democrats, UKIP, the Green Party, the SNP and Plaid Cymru; one of them conspicuously empty. What are those six other party leaders going to focus on?
I know what I would do in that situation, if I were one of those party leaders.
I would be at great pains to draw attention to Mr Cameron's empty lectern, at every opportunity. I would address all my remarks to it personally. I would highlight the Tory leader's lack of participation in the debate every chance I got. In short, I would hope to 'win' the debate (or, at least, come out of it looking favourable) simply by showing up.
It's the obvious tactic, isn't it? Some of our major party leaders are prone to some incredible gaffes (as are some of our minor party leaders), but I don't think any of them are stupid enough not to spot that. By 'empty chair'-ing David Cameron, the broadcasters will let six other party leaders off the hook – allowing them to spend ninety minutes pointing and jeering at a 'pantomime villain' figure, making snide remarks about the Prime Minister to general applause, rather than putting forward their own policies and their own visions for Britain.
However much you may feel David Cameron would deserve such treatment for his obstinacy on the issue of the debates, we are often told that the advantage of having televised debates at all is to help voters make up their minds about which party to vote for come Polling Day; this farce of a debate would not do that – it would simply allow six politicians to hurl petty insults at a seventh politician who isn't there. How is that a meaningful part of the democratic process?
I have written at length about why the TV Debates are a bad idea, and should be scrapped. They are a farce which threaten to turn British politics into a soap opera with relatable 'characters' at which one can cheer or boo. They pull focus away from local party candidates and onto party leaders, further diminishing the all-too-important link between constituency residents and their local parliamentary representative. And, as we are already seeing, they dominate the news agenda ahead of the things people should actually be talking about.
Despite all of this, the TV Debates look likely to go ahead anyway. But things still aren't straight forward! David Cameron – the Prime Minister, and leader of the Conservative party – is still refusing to take part in the debates. That is his prerogative.
Despite the fact that a debate between party leaders which does not include the leader of the current largest party – the party which is likely to be either the largest or second largest party in the next parliament too – would be rather odd, broadcasters are undeterred, and plan to go ahead with the debates with or without Mr Cameron. That is their prerogative.
However, the latest furore in this saga that will not die is how broadcasters should treat the Prime Minister's absence (if absent he be). Those keen to paint Mr Cameron as 'scared' of the debates (because who doesn't love political discourse which is lifted straight from the vernacular of eight-year-old playground bullies?) would like to see an 'empty chair' in his stead. In my opinion, however, this would be the very worst thing the broadcasters could do, in the event of a debate which did not include the Prime Minister.
Imagine how this kind of debate would go. Seven eerily-lit lecterns in front of a studio audience – six of them occupied by the leaders of the Labour Party, the Liberal Democrats, UKIP, the Green Party, the SNP and Plaid Cymru; one of them conspicuously empty. What are those six other party leaders going to focus on?
I know what I would do in that situation, if I were one of those party leaders.
I would be at great pains to draw attention to Mr Cameron's empty lectern, at every opportunity. I would address all my remarks to it personally. I would highlight the Tory leader's lack of participation in the debate every chance I got. In short, I would hope to 'win' the debate (or, at least, come out of it looking favourable) simply by showing up.
It's the obvious tactic, isn't it? Some of our major party leaders are prone to some incredible gaffes (as are some of our minor party leaders), but I don't think any of them are stupid enough not to spot that. By 'empty chair'-ing David Cameron, the broadcasters will let six other party leaders off the hook – allowing them to spend ninety minutes pointing and jeering at a 'pantomime villain' figure, making snide remarks about the Prime Minister to general applause, rather than putting forward their own policies and their own visions for Britain.
However much you may feel David Cameron would deserve such treatment for his obstinacy on the issue of the debates, we are often told that the advantage of having televised debates at all is to help voters make up their minds about which party to vote for come Polling Day; this farce of a debate would not do that – it would simply allow six politicians to hurl petty insults at a seventh politician who isn't there. How is that a meaningful part of the democratic process?
Wednesday, 12 November 2014
Comment on this
Do you write comments on newspaper articles online? You shouldn't.
I very rarely get comments on my Blog posts – and for that, I am very grateful. The problem with online comments is that no one is listening, and everyone is talking; it is a world where people scream their opinions into the abyss with an obstinate certainty they would never display in real life – there is no persuading anyone of an alternate point-of-view because everyone's positions are already so entrenched, and ad hominem is the default approach for making any point.
No one can ever 'win' one of these arguments (read: shouting matches). I don't think anybody is even trying to. There are plenty of comments on this critique of Russell Brand's latest book by Michael Moynihan, most of which are pretty hostile – and yet there are precious few attempts logically to refute the arguments the author makes, and instead the commenters' points are almost all "you're jealous of him!" or "you're just a stooge of 'the establishment' anyway!"
I've lost count (OK, I was never really keeping count) of the number of times I've read an excellent article, followed by a bunch of moronic comments from people with no interest at all in debating the issues raised in the piece with an open mind.
So, let's all try to restrain ourselves, and stop posting comments – the world will be a happier, nicer place for it.
I very rarely get comments on my Blog posts – and for that, I am very grateful. The problem with online comments is that no one is listening, and everyone is talking; it is a world where people scream their opinions into the abyss with an obstinate certainty they would never display in real life – there is no persuading anyone of an alternate point-of-view because everyone's positions are already so entrenched, and ad hominem is the default approach for making any point.
No one can ever 'win' one of these arguments (read: shouting matches). I don't think anybody is even trying to. There are plenty of comments on this critique of Russell Brand's latest book by Michael Moynihan, most of which are pretty hostile – and yet there are precious few attempts logically to refute the arguments the author makes, and instead the commenters' points are almost all "you're jealous of him!" or "you're just a stooge of 'the establishment' anyway!"
I've lost count (OK, I was never really keeping count) of the number of times I've read an excellent article, followed by a bunch of moronic comments from people with no interest at all in debating the issues raised in the piece with an open mind.
So, let's all try to restrain ourselves, and stop posting comments – the world will be a happier, nicer place for it.
Wednesday, 30 April 2014
Shutting down debate
"You're trying to shut down the debate!" is a common slur in modern politics. It's what you say to someone whom you think has no reasoned response to the points you're trying to make, and just wants to shut you up any way he can.
Just ask the UK Independence Party; they've been saying this for years, to anyone who will listen. UKIP see themselves as a party of rogue outsiders who are challenging preconceptions and standing up for 'ordinary people' by breaking down the closed ranks of a self-interested, cocktail-sipping metropolitan elite of professional politicians* who have lost touch with the struggles of the working men and women they claim to represent.
UKIP paint themselves as candid tellers of (often unpalatable) home truths - on immigration, housing, and the economy - and, most importantly of all, as the victims of some great conspiracy to try and shut them down. They believe that the 'mainstream media' (as much a part of the exclusive ruling elite as the politicians) are out to get them for the crime of being straight-talking and appealing to 'ordinary people'.
But the only people who are really trying to 'shut down the debate' are UKIP themselves; anyone who has the temerity to disagree with their flagrantly populist agenda (as the inestimable Janan Ganesh does with his customary elegance in Monday's Financial Times) is dismissed as 'out-of-touch'. If you criticise UKIP's arguments, that can't be because you've spotted a flaw in their reasoning, or even because you simply disagree with their stance - that must be because you are an establishment stooge who is frightened of UKIP's rising popularity. In the UKIP world view, there are no differing opinions; UKIP is the way, the truth and the light, and anyone espousing an alternative point-of-view is part of some great and sinister cover-up orchestrated by a self-serving political elite who are desperate to keep UKIP at bay.
By perpetuating the fallacy that 'they' (the other political parties) are 'all the same', and that UKIP are the only party standing up for 'real people' and their 'real concerns', UKIP are able to disseminate their message of prejudice and fear in mainstream politics like never before. Many commentators were keen to point out the similarities between UKIP's new election campaign posters (which, if not explicitly racist, at the very least prey on an ugly and divisive collectivism which stems from a primal fear of anything and anyone 'different' or 'unknown') and similar campaign material previously distributed by the far-right British National Party. But the difference is that the BNP have tended to be seen for what they really are by the great British public (as Dan Hodges points out in The Telegraph), while UKIP have built their façade of being a 'straight-talking party saying what the majority of people really think' by railing against a perceived 'LibLabCon consensus' and cashing in on the genuine frustration which many people feel with politicians in the wake of expenses scandals and sex cover-ups.
Whether UKIP really do represent the views of 'most ordinary people' will become clear at next year's general election; if they are as in-step with public opinion as they claim, their share of the popular vote will surely reflect this. But whatever their showing at the election is like, UKIP must at some point come to realise that politics isn't always going to be as easy as saying whatever you like, and brushing your critics aside every time just by denouncing them as tools of a conspiracy designed to keep you in your place. Eventually, UKIP will have to defend their policies on merit alone, and not by simply shutting down the debate and discrediting anyone who attempts to criticise them as 'out-of-touch'.
* UKIP are immensely fond of criticising 'professional politicians' - but what's the alternative? Amateur politicians?! Yeah, they sound competent…
Just ask the UK Independence Party; they've been saying this for years, to anyone who will listen. UKIP see themselves as a party of rogue outsiders who are challenging preconceptions and standing up for 'ordinary people' by breaking down the closed ranks of a self-interested, cocktail-sipping metropolitan elite of professional politicians* who have lost touch with the struggles of the working men and women they claim to represent.
UKIP paint themselves as candid tellers of (often unpalatable) home truths - on immigration, housing, and the economy - and, most importantly of all, as the victims of some great conspiracy to try and shut them down. They believe that the 'mainstream media' (as much a part of the exclusive ruling elite as the politicians) are out to get them for the crime of being straight-talking and appealing to 'ordinary people'.
But the only people who are really trying to 'shut down the debate' are UKIP themselves; anyone who has the temerity to disagree with their flagrantly populist agenda (as the inestimable Janan Ganesh does with his customary elegance in Monday's Financial Times) is dismissed as 'out-of-touch'. If you criticise UKIP's arguments, that can't be because you've spotted a flaw in their reasoning, or even because you simply disagree with their stance - that must be because you are an establishment stooge who is frightened of UKIP's rising popularity. In the UKIP world view, there are no differing opinions; UKIP is the way, the truth and the light, and anyone espousing an alternative point-of-view is part of some great and sinister cover-up orchestrated by a self-serving political elite who are desperate to keep UKIP at bay.
By perpetuating the fallacy that 'they' (the other political parties) are 'all the same', and that UKIP are the only party standing up for 'real people' and their 'real concerns', UKIP are able to disseminate their message of prejudice and fear in mainstream politics like never before. Many commentators were keen to point out the similarities between UKIP's new election campaign posters (which, if not explicitly racist, at the very least prey on an ugly and divisive collectivism which stems from a primal fear of anything and anyone 'different' or 'unknown') and similar campaign material previously distributed by the far-right British National Party. But the difference is that the BNP have tended to be seen for what they really are by the great British public (as Dan Hodges points out in The Telegraph), while UKIP have built their façade of being a 'straight-talking party saying what the majority of people really think' by railing against a perceived 'LibLabCon consensus' and cashing in on the genuine frustration which many people feel with politicians in the wake of expenses scandals and sex cover-ups.
Whether UKIP really do represent the views of 'most ordinary people' will become clear at next year's general election; if they are as in-step with public opinion as they claim, their share of the popular vote will surely reflect this. But whatever their showing at the election is like, UKIP must at some point come to realise that politics isn't always going to be as easy as saying whatever you like, and brushing your critics aside every time just by denouncing them as tools of a conspiracy designed to keep you in your place. Eventually, UKIP will have to defend their policies on merit alone, and not by simply shutting down the debate and discrediting anyone who attempts to criticise them as 'out-of-touch'.
* UKIP are immensely fond of criticising 'professional politicians' - but what's the alternative? Amateur politicians?! Yeah, they sound competent…
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