Election? What Election? Nobody bothers to campaign up here

Am I alone in wanting the doorbell to ring or for Aunty Alexa to excitedly declare: “There’s motion at the front door”?

“Oh, it’s those bloody Tories again,” I’d complain, peering through the curtain yet quietly excited by the attention.

To which some exasperated family member would reply: “Well you shouldn’t have sounded so undecided last time after taking their leaflets…” 

“Well,” I’d say, “I was playing them off against the Lib Dems, seeing what they’d offer me for my vote. I’d just like somebody to stop taxing us freelancers with carer duties at 55 per cent…”

And maybe that’s what it’s like where you live, in some hotly contested marginal where there’s still something to fight for. Up here in St Helens North, the election has been the quietest I’ve ever known, and I’ve known only quiet elections. I’ve had more election material from US Republicans this year, trying to convince me to give Donald Trump my money and vote, in that order, even though I have neither… 

In many ways, Britain Decides 2024 (as I’m sure the BBC will declare it… like they always so imaginatively do) feels symptomatic of life for the past fourteen years when politics seemed to become a matter of quid pro quo. This red heartland had nothing to offer the ruling government in Westminster, so we got little in return. It’s an argument often heard up here, especially from Manchester Mayor Andy Burnham, who has been quite vocal in his belief that council cuts start in Westminster with the deliberate intent of encouraging locals to blame their local Labour councils for the latest round of austerity. It’s an argument that has considerable merit, especially now it seems that we’re not even worth an election flyer through the letterbox.

The prevailing sense of people paying a lot more for a lot less lies at the heart of the Tory troubles and why their march into traditional red heartlands in 2019 now feels like a fever dream. They’re too busy defending their safe seats to waste money on places that remained red even during the height of Boris Johnson’s forays beyond the Blue Wall. 

Yet at least back in 2019, there were signs of a fight. We felt notionally part of the same electoral system as the rest of the country. I even met the Tory candidate, a young councillor from Harlow being taught the realities of campaigning in hostile ground. He was just the latest of a succession of distant drop-in candidates who’d arrive wearing the kind of green wax jacket usually worn on TV by men called Nigel. None were ever going to unseat Conor McGinn whose prominent place in a new Labour administration under Keir Starmer would have been assured had his story not taken a different turn. He isn’t standing in 2024.

A lot has happened in all our lives. 

Aptly, I was sitting next to Conor McGinn MP on a train last year and have always regretted not asking him a pointed political question about his troubles, except I sensed it was nobody’s business but his own. He’d already announced his intention to stand down. I, meanwhile, was carrying a mop and rushing home to attend to a second family emergency (the first emergency was the reason I was carrying a mop). I didn’t think the mop could do much to convince him that I was serious about politics.

And that was the last time anything significantly political happened around here. 

This election has been a demonstration of what happens when the political system overlooks you entirely. One leaflet arrived from Labour weeks ago: a cursory acknowledgement that they’ll take the seat with a huge majority. Another came from an outfit known as the “English Constitution Party” which appears to be running on a manifesto of conspiracy theories. Led by somebody who called himself “Daddy Dragon”, it protested the coronation of King Charles and is chiefly concerned with “keeping cash” and “independence and self-determination for England”. The party is standing in only four constituencies, so perhaps their leaflet will become a collector’s item.

There has been nothing from the Tories, who aren’t even sending their usual candidate from Hampshire to contest the seat. This time they’ve selected a councillor from Lancashire, which at least is a step in the right direction towards local representation, but one suspects they just can’t afford the train fare this time.

There has also been nothing from the Lib Dems who used to be the official second party around here, often winning control of the local council. I guess it costs a fortune paying for rides in all the theme parks Ed Davey now considers his key battleground.

Then there’s Reform…

Reform UK is the only party to have been putting in any noticeable effort. The party’s pamphlet arrived with surprising speed after Farage joined the race. It is also active on the street. In a neighbouring constituency of Warrington North on Saturday, Reform looked to be doing strong business. Perhaps the sun was throwing down enough heat to melt people’s reticence when it comes to politics. A small crowd had stopped by to speak to their prospective member of parliament who was sheltering in a gazebo insulated by Union flags. In the four weeks since the election began, this was the only sign I’ve seen of people actively engaged in politics.

If we can judge these things by a sunny afternoon in a largely forgotten northern town, Nigel Farage might do better than the polls suggest, and I’d be surprised if they took their vote entirely from the Tories. The class politics that informed the old Tory/Labour division always had the capacity to become something else rooted in a different fear or resentment. Although trade wasn’t what you might call brisk, it was clear that the Reform message was gaining some traction. The Conservatives are in trouble, we know that, but perhaps it’s not going to be quite so easy for Labour. 

But is it any wonder when… you know… nobody bothers to campaign?

You often hear people explain their disinterest in politics with the excuse that “they’re all as bad as each other”. It’s a mere platitude, based upon ignorance rather than profound political insight (clearly no two MPs are the same, much as parties are foundationally different). That ignorance is itself, however, a symptom of a profound disconnect from the political system. There’s little that the government or anybody can do to make people take more interest in politics, but they can at least find ways to make those people who do vote feel that the efforts are rewarded and that their vote counts for something.

This year I find myself again wondering if it’s not time to address the real problem, which is an electoral system that continues to disenfranchise so many thoughtful, considerate, and caring voters who still believe in democracy. Whatever is lost by abandoning “First Past the Post” would be eclipsed by the realisation that every vote would finally matter. It might encourage parties to fight for every seat and convince us that there is no such thing as a pointless election summed up by three pieces of glossy A5 through the letterbox.

@DavidWaywell

Write to us with your comments to be considered for publication at letters@reaction.life