This blog post originally began as a comment on comedy's David Mitchell's latest post on The Guardian's Comment is Free section. And while the source text is a little forced and not particularly funny (much like Peep Show, in my opinion), it does raise some interesting questions about the sea change that appears to be afoot in British politics. Mitchell's focus is on how David Cameron is the victim of circumstance. Don't bother reading the whole thing, its meandering and clunky, but here's the crux:
"You're sick of the government, aren't you? So vote for me!" is how British opposition leaders have always addressed the electorate. It's usually enough. "Why commit to policies in advance when I can win just by not being Gordon Brown?" Cameron must have thought. It doesn't exactly make him a statesman but doesn't mean he's an idiot either. He analysed his strategic objective and, in time-honoured fashion, organised a perfectly competent cavalry charge. It had always worked in the past. And then history opened up on him with a machine-gun.
One important point Mitchell misses is the role of the television debates in opening up the discussion. They may not be everyone's cup of tea, but the politics-meets-reality-show format has sparked a debate in print, online and in pubs (where else can meaningful discussion thrive) that would not have taken place otherwise. Politics just got up close and personal. The cult of the celebrity has truly arrived.
And this is most certainly a good thing. It forces candidates to address their customers (the electorate) directly and as individuals.
Crucially, the debates themselves have made it important for people to have an opinion on politics - rather than just vote along traditional party or class boundaries. The follow-up discussion on blogs (yes, like Mitchell's), in the social media and in pubs has blurred the lines further. And in the press, odious soundbite reporting has been forced to one side by opinion and editorial sections tempered by reader comments. In this brave new world, opinions are individual and (almost) all points of view are valid.
So how does a party go about selling a brand image, a message, to the public? That is the question they are all asking themselves in the run up to the election.
Let's not forget amid all the hype that politicians are appointed to serve the public - and that the public will always be aware that as voters, they are customers. For many years now, the distance between the electorate and their representatives has grown with the power of the media to shape opinion - to the point where MPs are now more accountable to their party whip than their constituents.
Politicians, like businesses, must also rethink their approach to customer service. The time of the spin-doctor (read: marketeer) has passed. Smear campaigns don't wash any more. Sure, personality is important, but straight-talking is even more so.
After all, the public is more forgiving than the press. Joe Voter doesn't need to find an angle on the story, he can voice his opinions when the time comes to do so - at the polls, in the pubs and on the Internet. And when he feels his opinion, like his vote, is just as valid as that of a newspaper correspondent or business leader, his engagement in politics automatically increases. In turn, they can no longer be told who to vote for because they vote based on a complex mixture of factors drawn from a patchwork of media and personal experiences.
Cameron's failing is that he has ignored this democratisation of politics. He has tried to paint politics as black versus white and fallen back on a string meaningless anecdotes (parodied by this anecdote generator) and an almost obsessive mantra of "change". More importantly, by keeping his policies and opinions close to his chest, he has turned a position of strength over his (former?) main rival Brown into a feeling of despairing indifference on the part of the electorate. The feeling is, the unfortunate picture to the left reflects exactly what he thinks of his electorate (and the comments here bear that out).
Enter Clegg.
While Nick Clegg is a million miles from being a British Obama, both have benefitted from a trend that has allowed a rank outsider to rise from one day to the next. In days gone by, both would have been portrayed by the media as insignificant bit-part players (Clinton was a shoo-in for the Democratic nomination, remember). If they ever overcame this major hurdle, the Obamas of the past (e.g. Ralph Nader) would be speared by smear campaigns that would have fooled a public that did not and could not know any better (Clinton, again, said some terrible things about her current boss). In previous elections for instance, the press would have successfully made an issue of Obama's supposed Muslim origin, inflammatory pastor and allegedly corrupt neighbour. This time, the accusations just would not stick - and the rest of the world breathed a sigh of relief.
The same is true today in the UK - and the result is Cleggmania. Where every opinion counts, there is no such thing as a wasted vote - and the Liberal Democrats have suddenly become a viable alternative. Whether or not the current crop of Lib Dems is better or worse than previous incarnations is moot - the stars are aligned for Clegg. Only time will tell if he will get the job - and if he is the man for the job - but one thing is for sure, he has tuned into the needs of his "customers". Yet the pundits cannot quite put their finger on why.
Maybe the answer is staring them in the face: In the age of the self-made celebrity, politics has gone viral. The rules have changed, and a vote for Clegg is a vote for democracy - and a vote against politics.