O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
(William Blake, The Sick Rose, Songs of Innocence and Experience, 1794)
plate here
There is a canker eating at the heart of our political society. I felt that the KRudd government was interested in appearances rather than reality, but despite the change of Prime Minister, things don’t seem to have changed. And I certainly don’t feel that the Opposition is any better, or an alternative for which I can vote.
How did things come to this pass? I have decided that, in part, it is the obsession with opinion polls. I presume that when Abe Lincoln was President, he didn’t have access to opinion polls. All he could do was go out there into the public and say what he believed in, and what he thought was good for the people, and why that was. How did he find out what their opinion was? I suppose he would have had an immediate gauge if people started to pelt him with rotten vegetables or heckle him, or alternatively, if they cheered him uproariously. He had to actually speak to the public and engage with them to get an idea of what their reaction was, though.
As I’ve already said, I didn’t watch the GillAbb debate. In comments, Dave Bath wondered if Australian politics had always been like this, or had it just plumbed new depths recently.
The worm typifies the problem. It’s a blow-by-blow account of how the audience is reacting to each little thing the debaters say. Thus, pollsters can obsessively follow it and see which arguments appeal to voters more, which policies are more popular.
My disappointment comes down to this. I do not feel that either party will pursue policies that are initially unpopular but which they believe are the good of the country. Neither party is guided by belief, or principle, or by a sense that they are representing us. They just seek to stay in power by appealing to popular sentiment.
Opinion is a strange thing, though. A while back, I participated in an Insight episode on climate change scepticism (unfortunately it hasn’t aired yet, but I guess it will after the Election). At the end of the show, we were asked if we’d changed our opinion. No, I hadn’t changed my opinion, because I was still thinking about it. In fact, a month after filming, I’m still mulling over the questions that were raised in the program. I wouldn’t say that my opinion is settled, and I’m always open to further discussion. Just simply asking, “Have you changed your opinion?” (Yes/No) doesn’t cover the complexity of my response.
There have been occasions on this blog where I have taken a particular position with respect to a political or social issue, and through informed discussion and debate with other commenters and bloggers, I have changed my opinion. Sometimes I don’t change my opinion instantly. Sometimes it takes a long time. Sometimes I don’t change my opinion until after something occurs, and I see that the effects were not as bad as I thought (or that they were far worse, as they case may be). The proof can be in the pudding.
A lot of people take a while to think about their opinions too. My Dad and I develop our opinions by talking out aloud with other people. My Mum and my sister hate this. They both need to go away with the information and mull over it in private. “Why do you and Dad always ask me what I think of a movie as soon as the credits roll?” complains my mother. “I’m still thinking about it.” By contrast, Dad and I are likely to have an opinion straight away, but in talking it over with each other, we might change our opinion or firm up why we think as we do.
If I wanted to get my sister to think about something, I learned to toss the new argument or information at her much as one might lob a grenade into hostile territory, then close the door to her room and leave her in private rather than immediately asking, “What do you think about that?” She hates being put on the spot, and if I corner her with a new argument without giving her time to digest, I’m likely to hear one thousand reasons why I’m wrong. If I want a considered answer, I wait until the next day. My daughter is very similar to my sister, just a lot louder.
The point of this discursion into my family’s opinion-making habits is simply to point out that some people don’t react very well to new proposals if you don’t give them time to think about it. So naturally enough, if you ask them straight away what their opinion is on a new proposal without giving them time to digest it and research all of the available information, it’s likely that their opinion will be negative.
Bu there seems to be no attempt to explain a policy, to let people take it in and digest it, and then to discuss why it might be necessary. It’s simply presented as a fait accompli and initially, if people react negatively, they’re just dismissed. However, if they continue to react negatively in enough numbers, then the policy is dropped because it might affect opinion polls. There’s no middle ground.
Dave said, “The agenda of both appeals not to a single virtue, but to the vices, probably all of the 7 deadly sins.” My aunt yesterday said, “It seems like both parties are engaging in a race to the bottom.” I’d say rather that the politicians are playing on fears. Of course, fear always plays a part in politics, and this is hardly a new thing. Demagogues of the right and the left have long played on fear.
There’s fear about boat people, fear about immigration and different cultures, fear about jobs, fear about climate change, and the politicians are all trying to play on it. Politicians should be aware of these fears, and understand them. It’s important not to dismiss fears, even if you think they are foolish or bigoted fears. Nonetheless, politicians shouldn’t play on fears to get policies through, and fear shouldn’t the driver behind decisions. As I’ve said long ago, I decry the politics of fear:
Fear doesn’t make for intelligent, reasoned decisions: people make panicked, knee-jerk reactions based on prejudice rather than fact.
If you are seeking to persuade me that a particular course of action is necessary, don’t try to make me fearful to push me down that path. Reason with me, engage with me, talk to me.
What would my advice to politicians be? The Worm should be ignored. Politicians should focus on principle; on doing what is best for the people, not on keeping high in the opinion polls. They should be attempting to allay and address fears, not playing on them.
