The dire warning in the empty ballot box

The May council elections raise, once again, a familiar set of concerns about the quality and character of our democratic processes. How much further do levels of participation and turnout have to fall before our political systems lose, if they have not already lost, much of the legitimacy they gain from their democratic nature? What is to blame for such trends? And what might be done to reverse them? It should be with these questions, above all, that Gordon Brown concerns himself as he prepares to take over the mantle from Tony Blair.

Declining voter participation is, of course, not a uniquely British phenomenon. In fact it is a near universal long-term trend in the established democracies, despite occasional blips. Yet there is only so much solace that can be taken from this by British politicians. For, however ubiquitous the trend, the problem is particularly acute in Britain and the US (despite the rise in turnout in the last US presidential contest).

So what can be done? If we are to answer that question it is important that we first establish what is wrong. In doing so it is vital to see falling turnout not as an isolated symptom, but as part of a more worrying and near universal contempt for politics and politicians.

If this diagnosis is accurate, then conventional orthodoxies on the subject can only get us so far. If the loss of motivation for participation in formal politics is the result of this distrust and contempt for politicians, then it is simply wrong to label such citizens apathetic. They are not disinterested in politics, so much as frustrated, irritated and hostile towards it — and increasingly so. This, of course, begs the question: where has this distrust, hatred and hostility come from?

The answer, shown clearly and repeatedly in public opinion polling data, is intriguing: the electorate hate politics because they project on to politicians purely instrumental motives. And if they are right to detect in those holding or standing for public office such self-interested motives, then they are entirely rational in hating politics.

But are they right to project such assumptions on to those in whose election they increasingly fail to participate? And, if not, where do such assumptions come from?

This brings us to the crux of the matter. So what can we say here? It is unlikely that politicians today are more narrowly self-interested and less innately trustworthy than they were in the past. But what is very clear is that, judged by their own words and deeds, politicians today do not trust themselves.

Moreover, and somewhat ironically, the source of such distrust also lies in the self-serving motives they project onto each other. This is precisely why so much of the agenda of contemporary politics is actually about depoliticisation. Consider the following remarks of Lord Falconer in 2003:

‘What governs our approach is a clear desire to place power where it should be: increasingly not with politicians, but with those best fitted in different ways to deploy it. Interest rates are not set by politicians in the Treasury, but by the Bank of England. Minimum wages are not determined by the Department of Trade and Industry, but by the Low Pay Commission.’

This is an extraordinary admission and it is far from unrepresentative. When our own politicians see politics as a disease to which depoliticisation is the antidote, is it any wonder that citizens become disaffected and disengaged?

Electoral politics is reduced to the selection of mere functionaries whose sole task is to assign policy-making duties to those they see as more qualified, more proficient and more competent. In the process, the link between the voter and the decision-making process is severed.

So what, if anything, can be done? Well, if the above analysis is correct, then two points immediately follow. First, political elites need to be far more conscious of the often unfortunate cues they give to the electorate in the motivational assumptions they project onto other politicians. Second, in office they need to take, and be seen to take, tough decisions, rather than subcontracting their responsibilities to others.

In this context, Gordon Brown’s reputation for being ‘all substance and no spin’ may be something of an advantage over his predecessor. Yet it should not be forgotten that it is Brown, rather than Blair, who has been the architect of much of the depoliticisation in which New Labour has engaged since 1997. If there were ever a time for repoliticisation it is surely now.

The future of our democratic political culture may well depend on it.

Colin Hay is Professor of Political Analysis at the University of Birmingham. His new book, ‘Why We Hate Politics’, is published by Polity Press.