12 months on. 12 reflections on running for Parliament.
As an academic, it is a rare privilege to live your work. Twelve months ago, I did just that as a parliamentary candidate in the UK’s 2019 General Election. Despite researching British politics and politicians, I soon came to appreciate that the gulf between studying politics and practicing politics is much larger than most academics care to admit. For those interested in the practice of politics and what it takes to get elected, here are a few simple reflections that I jotted down in the transient moments of solitude during the campaign.
Standing for office is all-consuming and exhausting, and running a conscientious and effective campaign is virtually incompatible with retaining a full time job. Incumbents and those who can afford to quit their job in order to run have a monopoly on the most precious campaign resource: time.
Money matters a lot. It was humbling to have so many people joining me on the streets to knock on doors and engage voters in meaningful conversations (more than 20,000 in five weeks), but ultimately those candidates with most money can buy more effective blanket exposure through adverts in the local press, leaflets, and billboards.
Public distrust in politics is visceral and directed at candidates on a daily basis. You have very little choice other than to develop a thick skin. And quickly. However, diffuse cynicism and doubt in ‘the political’ appear to be fuelled by the anonymity of the internet. When you engage people in respectful dialogue, in person, then interpersonal trust is much easier to build or restore than it is over email or social media messaging. At the same time, it is largely impossible to measure the electoral benefit of social media during a campaign. As a candidate, you and your team can use Twitter, Facebook, and instagram accounts to reach thousands of people, but those who engage are either (a) already largely in agreement with you and one another, or (b) considerably more politically minded and motivated than the vast majority of the British public.
On a related point, the media seems to have lost sight of its democratic responsibility. Rather than informing about or scrutinising candidates and policy (or reporting their opinions accurately), it drip-feeds blunt stereotypes about politicians of all partisan persuasions and, in turn, removes the space or public appetite for nuance in political communication and debate. Interestingly, hyper-local media are much more balanced and objective. The death of the local newspaper and/or radio station may be an overlooked feature of modern democratic deficits.
Specific to GE 2019, 'Get Brexit Done' turned out to be a ruthlessly efficient campaign slogan (even if the reality of waving goodbye to Brexit on 31st January 2020 turned out to be an expectedly woeful stretching of a complex truth). Voters were fatigued by Brexit and many struggled or refused to engage much beyond it. They wanted a clear and definitive end to the saga.
At the time of the 2019 election, there was a palpable sense that the Overton window on British politics had lurched to the political right. Policies that may have been seen as progressive, mainstream and/or necessary 15 years ago were met with ridicule as extreme or radical on the doorstep or high street. In many ways, this also reflected a polarisation of opinion that was particularly noticeable between [largely young] ‘cosmopolitan liberals’ and a small-c conservative population. This value-based cleavage appeared to cut across socio-economic, geographic and cultural differences.
Politics is a messy and contingent business, but the public understanding of politics and political processes is built on stark conceptions (and expectations!) of right and wrong. More must be done to provide a fully resourced minimum offer of political literacy in schools so that the public can engage candidates (and vice versa) in difficult, nuanced yet necessary conversations.
To be a political candidate is to become public property - to your party members, to the public, to lobby groups, to the media. The mental and physical pressures are immense. As such, I would suggest that we need to be more considerate and compassionate in our demands of candidates (and ultimately politicians). This is a process that can start as much at the top, between elected representatives, as it can at a grass-roots level.
Candidates meet people from all walks of life. Every doorstep conversation provides a snapshot of people's lives. Combined with the visits I made to schools, hospitals, food banks, homeless shelters, these conversations made it clear to me that something is not working - the inequality I saw in one of the country’s most affluent constituencies was heartbreakingly stark. The economic toll of the coronavirus pandemic is already well documented and it will likely leave even deeper scars in the social fabric of the country. Whatever comes next cannot be a return to business as usual.
Every good campaign is built on the backs of hardworking supporters. Out of the limelight, these everyday heroes help candidates to pound the streets, print leaflets, knock on doors, deal with residents and the media, manage campaign funds, research local issues, and travel between disparate locations at ungodly hours with little rest and often little reward. Candidates owe them a huge debt of gratitude.
Very few constituents actually understand tactical voting, know the tactical vote options in their area, or care/are interested in tactical voting. For those parties or candidates in marginal seats who might rely on or have a vested interest in tactical voting, this is something to consider in future elections.
Even as a local candidate born and raised in a constituency, the electoral returns on local campaign activities are depressingly overshadowed by the effect of national trends and occurrences in party politics. This is an inalienable fact and one that candidates must accept. Criticisms and castigations are rarely personal, but then again neither are most votes.
Whilst it is vitally important that academics remain reflexive about our partisan attachments or ideological leanings in order to publish objective and rigorous research, I also believe that academics can and should do more to match our words with actions. At the same time, generalisations cast from the keyboard of the distant social scientist are unlikely to capture the lived experiences of those we study. Our research itself can benefit from the light bulb moments that only occur on the other side of the fourth wall.
My personal and political convictions, my perspectives on modern society (including all of its strengths and weaknesses), as well as my new and ongoing research projects, have been enriched by the experience of ‘stepping into the arena’. Given the chance, I would do it all again.