Disillusionment is not solely a feature of adolescence, at least not in terms of politics. Youths who can’t see the point in voting grow into non-voting adults. As a result, Britain’s turnout record leaves a lot to be desired. The public seems to have least interest in European elections. For example, in 1979, 1984 and 1989, around one third of the electorate voted. In 1999 it was even worse – less than a quarter, making Britons the most reluctant voters in the EU.
Analysts have not undertaken any serious study of non-voting in European elections. It is generally assumed that the remoteness of the European Parliament and antipathy towards the EC/EU accounts for the low levels of participation. The unwieldy size of European constituencies also makes it very difficult for the parties – who are used to campaigning in Westminster constituencies – to work effectively on the ground in order to get voters out of their front doors and down to the polling booths.
Far more worrying is the body of statistics which shows that there is similar public apathy when it comes to electing our own governments. Turnout for the 1997 general election was 71.4 per cent, the lowest figure since 1945. Despite the unpopularity of John Major’s government, over one quarter of voters stayed at home. We are not the most apathetic country in Europe, but our turnout figures compare unfavourably with those of Spain, Sweden, Greece and Italy. If we add New Zealand, Australia and the USA to the equation, then Britain has the fourteenth poorest voting figures out of twenty nations.
This is a nationwide problem. The electoral roll doesn’t help, as there is a time lag in setting up the electoral register, which makes voting difficult for people who move around. The situation was also exacerbated by the hugely unpopular Poll Tax in the eighties, as large numbers of people took themselves off the electoral register in order to avoid paying the tax, but this predates the Poll Tax: the trend of turnouts in general elections has been downwards since a post-war high of 84 per cent in 1950.
Some elements of British society seem to be more disengaged than others. We have already seen that the young vote in disproportionately small numbers. There is also a huge variation in turnout figures when we compare different constituencies, which often ties in with levels of social deprivation, particularly with levels of unemployment. In 1997, turnout ranged from 81.1 per cent (Wirral South) to 51.6 per cent (Liverpool Riverside). In May 1997, the unemployment rate in Wirral South was 5.1 per cent, while Liverpool Riverside had a rate of 19 per cent unemployment, the third worst figure in England. In short, the poorest sections of society, those with, arguably, the most pressing reasons to make their voices heard and bring about change, are the most disillusioned with the political process and the least likely to vote.
Some of these concerns are far from new. I recently came across a fascinating book on the Chicago Mayoral election of 1923. Then, out of an electorate of 1.4 million, only 723,000 voted – a turnout of slightly under 52 per cent. Non-Voting: Causes and Methods of Control,4 looks at some familiar problems, including the public views that ‘voting changes little’ and that ‘politicians can’t be trusted’. In the twenties, though, much of the blame for poor turnout seemed to be blamed on the cowardice, laziness, ignorance or stupidity of voters.
Today, we are far more likely to look at the failings of politicians rather than voters. This is, in my view, entirely correct. We created the disillusionment, and we have to find a way to solve it. I don’t pretend it is an easy job. As the book on the Chicago 1923 election said, ‘The disillusioned voter, who believes that one vote counts for nothing, presents a difficult problem of political control. The ignorant citizen can be informed, the indifferent citizen can be stirred out of his lethargy, but the sophisticated cynic of democracy cannot be moved so easily.’
So, where do we start? Is it enough to target the young and the poor, or do we need a broader, nationwide approach to restore people’s faith in the political process? One thing is certain – until we have won people’s trust back there is no way we can claim to live in a democracy. Democracy isn’t just about everyone having the potential to change the way society works. Democracy is about a state where precisely that happens, because people are confident that their opinions matter and that they can make a difference. In a country where over a quarter of citizens don’t exercise their right to choose the new government, and where the poorest have the least inclination to improve their lot, there can be little progress, only marginal improvement.
Politicians, for the most part, are not stupid. They have long been wise to the issue of public disaffection. What has baffled them is the solution. Previously, the tactic of all politicians across Parliament, has simply been to ‘try harder’. Knock on every door, so the logic goes, appear in every newspaper and on every television programme, telling people how important it is for them to get out and vote, and you can make a change.
In this age of all-pervasive media, it is clear that this tactic is not working. It is not because people aren’t aware of the key political issues of the day, or that they are ignorant about who the key politicians are, or what they stand for.
The problem is that we are working the wrong way round. This is the crisis facing politics: people aren’t interested in voting, because they see it as a lip-service to true democracy. Individuals, families, communities, villages, towns and regions still have scant authority, and while so much power is disproportionately centred around a distant government and a single capital, it is no surprise if people are unconvinced that their vote matters. People won’t turn out to vote for a new Prime Minister until they also have a chance to wield real power in their own backyards. Respect for government will only come about once people govern themselves.
And that’s where the solution must lie. The challenge is to build a truly civic Britain, where power has been devolved to the local and regional level, and where we are playing a full role in Europe. Where people no longer expect change to come slowly and inefficiently from Westminster, but have power within their own communities and exercise it themselves. Where the can-do culture tears down the walls built by decades of disillusionment and cynicism. Until politicians stop governing on behalf of the nation and start to govern with it, politics in Britain will remain what it is today – a sheer irrelevance for larger and larger numbers of people – and the consequences for the nation will be disastrous. It will be, in a sense, a final victory for Thatcherism. We will be a nation that prefers to lock the doors, rather than see what’s happening in the street outside.
It may seem inappropriate to speak of Thatcherism ten years after the end of the Iron Lady’s reign, but eighteen years of Tory rule wrought lasting damage upon the fabric of our society, and rather than repair it, Labour has sometimes been too willing to appease the middle classes at the expense of the poor. This is not new in politics – for forty years, J. K. Galbraith has been warning of the political dangers of the affluent disregarding the poor. Without doubt, the current government is a vast improvement on the previous one, but it is dangerous that Labour has not done more to create an environment that is sympathetic to the poor. In political life it means that we face nothing short of an emergency, but to those who already feel disheartened enough to stop reading, I want to point out that crises merely provide us with an opportunity to take action. The remedy is in our hands.
We can only make the most of the future if we are clear about what we want to achieve. My aim in politics is to advance and protect the liberty of the individual, because I believe that this is the only way to achieve true democracy. That, in turn, means ensuring that all people have the maximum life chances and the maximum opportunities to make the most of their natural abilities, whatever their circumstances. How can we speak of ‘democracy’ otherwise? Rule by the people (which is the precise definition of the word) does not mean that small privileged elites exercise their power over the rest. It means that everyone has an equal capacity to exercise power, and equal liberty to govern themselves.
In this book, I shall be using the word ‘liberty’ a great deal, along with its more popular counterpart, ‘freedom’. For me, politics is the machinery by which freedom is made possible. Freedom to breathe, in a safe and clean environment. Freedom from government, by devolving power to the communities, nations and regions of Britain. Freedom to innovate, and to trade with other nations. Freedom to develop one’s talents