If we understood politics rather better, we would expect less of it. Consequently, we would be surprised and dismayed rather less often by its repeated failures to live up to our over-inflated and unrealistic expectations. We would, in turn, be better placed to set for ourselves political ambitions that we had some chance of achieving. This may well be true, but such a rational recalibration of our expectations might also lead us to lose our sense of political ambition, animation and engagement. Indeed, does that not describe the contemporary political condition rather well?
If politics is not all what it was once cracked up to be, then we should not lose sight of the fact that for many it has never lived up to its billing and has always been rather less than it was cracked up to be. Indeed, as we shall see, a crucial factor in the development of contemporary political disaffection has been the growing political influence of those for whom politics is, at best, a necessary evil.
Why We Hate Politics
by Colin Hay
1
Political Disenchantment
If we understood politics rather better, we would expect less of it. Consequently, we would be surprised and dismayed rather less often by its repeated failures to live up to our over-inflated and unrealistic expectations. We would, in turn, be better placed to set for ourselves political ambitions that we had some chance of achieving. This may well be true, but such a rational recalibration of our expectations might also lead us to lose our sense of political ambition, animation and engagement. Indeed, does that not describe the contemporary political condition rather well?
If politics is not all what it was once cracked up to be, then we should not lose sight of the fact that for many it has never lived up to its billing and has always been rather less than it was cracked up to be. Indeed, as we shall see, a crucial factor in the development of contemporary political disaffection has been the growing political influence of those for whom politics is, at best, a necessary evil. This kind of argument does not differentiate between a past – in which politics was a good in itself – and the present day – in which it has become an increasingly malevolent force. In a sense, it is timeless and, so its proponents would contend, of universal relevance. What varies is not so much the content of the argument as its ability to shape attitudinal dispositions towards politics – and it is no more likely to mould such dispositions than when, as today, it has direct access to political power.4 And whilst there is a certain irony about this capture of the political system by those committed to an avowedly anti-political agenda, it hardly lessens the significance or pervasiveness of the effects.
We would be wrong, then, to attribute current political disaffection solely to the critique of contemporary political personnel, their conduct and their motivations; it is just as much a product of a more general and timeless critique of politics as a practice or vocation. Similarly, we would be wrong to assume that the predominantly negative associations and connotations of politics today are unprecedented historically. Politics has been seen as the problem rather than the solution at various historical junctures.
Why We Hate Politics
by Colin Hay
guardian.co.uk
http://www.guardian.co.uk/public/features/story/0,,2049189,00.html
All reflective public managers should contend with Colin Hay’s arguments – especially if they are discontent with the glib assumptions underpinning the “new public management” and what it has delivered by way of contracting out, the hollowing out of citizenship and the cult of independent, non-political bodies.
It is written clearly, if mostly for Hay’s fellow academics – he is a professor at Birmingham University. The thesis is simple. To explain downward trends in voting and party membership, look at what modern politics offers people. Government is in retreat, contracting out services, calling on “independents” to conduct monetary policy, even healthcare. The products of democracy – collective action for mutual benefit – are denigrated. Is there any wonder the public turn off?
Of course Hay’s argument can be countered. Contracting out services is surely itself a response to the perception by the political class that they public were losing faith in its ability to deliver. But Hay captures the dilemma of the age. What is the point of initiatives to encourage participation when there is, apparently, so little faith in what collective action can accomplish? Hay seeks culprits in academe and specifically in those branches of the social sciences, mainly economics, heavily influenced by American “public choice” theory – which basically says we are all self-interested rational maximisers of our utility and as such have no logic interest in collective wellbeing. It defines “a tightly delimited political sphere which does not encroach upon the essentially private realms of economic and social exchange, encouraging a profoundly suspicious, sceptical and anti-political culture”. Beware, too, writers advancing the idea of unstoppable globalisation. They “suggest the increasingly anachronistic nature of political intervention in an era of external economic constraint, inviting a fundamental reappraisal of the previously unquestioned capacity of political processes to shape societal trajectories”. Hay blames the new public management for dismissing the possibility of altruism or a public service ethos.
This is a short but dense book, offering much to dispute. And that, ultimately, is Hay’s point. Unless the possibility of alternatives is discussed, government remains in thrall to a self-denying ideology which is asphyxiating democracy.
(Globalization)
Why We Hate Politics
by Colin Hay
1
Political Disenchantment
A final factor is the impact – real or imagined – of globalization on public policy-making capacity and autonomy. This forms the focus of chapter 4. Once again, whether they are right to do so or not, political elites have increasingly come to accept that their ability to offer genuine choice to the electorate is significantly restricted by virtue of globalization. In an era in which flows of information, people, pollutants and, most significantly, goods, services, investment and finance are global, it is argued, domestic policy cannot afford to answer solely, or perhaps even primarily, to the wishes of the electorate. In such a context domestic policy-making autonomy and, indeed, democratic responsiveness need to be curbed such that they do not interfere with ultimately more pressing considerations – most notably, economic competitiveness. The extent to which this is an accurate representation of the contemporary domestic political landscape, indeed, the extent to which it is perceived as such, is the extent to which democratic processes at the national level matter less than they once did. As such, it is also likely to be an index of disaffection and disengagement with formal politics.
These supply-side factors provide the basis of the alternative account of political participation and non-participation that I offer in this volume. They are largely absent from the existing literature. Yet, as table 1.11 shows, that literature does not completely overlook supply-side factors and does at times acknowledge the possibility that the changing content of politics might have something to do with contemporary levels of disaffection and disengagement. Yet, however important it is to acknowledge this, a number of qualifications must be made immediately.
First, when they are considered at all, supply-side factors are invariably grafted on to predominantly demand-side accounts, as at best secondary considerations (see for instance Franklin 2004: 179–81; Newton and Norris 2000: 53–4; Norris 2000: 250; Scharpf 2000: 101–8). Second, to suggest that such factors are actively considered may be something of an exaggeration. In many cases it would be more accurate to state that they are mentioned in passing, and not actively dismissed as potentially significant. Pippa Norris, for instance, concludes her excellent analysis of the (exaggerated) impact of television viewing on civic malaise by stating: ‘if leaders in high office are increasingly rocked by financial sleaze and sexual shenanigans, if the public is increasingly disillusioned with government institutions, we should look more directly at the functioning of representative democracy and stop blaming the messenger’ (2000: 250). Yet these are her last words on the subject. Similarly, Mark N. Franklin notes the potential salience of globalization as a factor which might account for declining electoral turnout (2004: 179). But, pointing to its relatively late onset in the timeseries data with which he is working (an assumption we will have reason to question later on), he does not pursue the suggestion empirically. Third, the most frequently cited (indeed, often the only cited) supply-side factor – the decline in domestic policy-making competence and/or autonomy in an era of globalization – is treated as a simple and unproblematic structural constraint (e.g. Franklin 2004: 179–8; Katzenstein 2000). As a consequence it, too, is depoliticized. Finally, Peter J. Katzenstein, who is the only author to examine the question in any empirical depth, dismisses the role of globalization in declining electoral participation on the grounds that small open economies (like the Nordic countries) are characterized by high levels of political trust, whilst large closed economies (like the US) are characterized by low levels of political trust (Katzenstein 2000: 136). This is a very peculiar inference to draw. At best, these data suggest that the extent of economic integration itself cannot account for a high proportion of the variance between cases in aggregate turnout levels. But who would suggest that it could? Globalization, and the perception of globalization (be it accurate or otherwise), may well have contributed to turnout decline, in small open economies and large closed economies alike. But it is unlikely to be able to explain the difference in turnout levels between such cases.
As this suggests, even the literature most sensitive to supply-side factors either (i) notes, but then fails to consider in any detail, such factors; or (ii) serves to absolve elite political actors from responsibility for such factors by attributing them to processes beyond their control; or (iii) dismisses the salience of such factors on the basis of dubious statistical inferences. Either way, supply-side factors have yet to receive adequate consideration. But before we turn to these factors directly in chapters 3 and 4, it is first important to problematize the simple demand-side/supply-side analogy we have adopted thus far.
The clear separation of demand- and supply-side factors is certainly neat; but arguably it is too neat, and perhaps serves to do a certain injustice to the existing literature on political participation. For, in a sense, a focus on the demand side is inevitable. The reason for this is simple. Ultimately it is the electorate, not those whom they elect, who must choose whether or not to participate, and whom to vote for, should they choose to participate. As a consequence, if we are to explain trends in electoral participation – or, indeed, any other form of political participation – we must consider the attitudes, perceptions and motivations of potential participants. In considering the determinants of electoral participation, this takes us immediately to the demand of potential voters for the political goods with which the parties seek to supply them. As this suggests, it is much easier to ignore the supply side than the demand side, for the former is always at one remove. The point, however, is that in seeking to account for any trend in levels of participation, we can choose to emphasize either dispositional factors in the character of the electorate or factors associated with the provision of political goods by the parties and the political system more generally. Up until this point we have labelled the former demand-side explanations, the latter supply-side explanations. But that is not, strictly speaking, accurate. For supply-side factors are only important in so far as they come to influence voters’ disposition to participate or not. In other words, they are only important in so far as they influence demand. And in order to influence demand, they must be perceived by potential participants as salient. Moreover, it is the perception rather than the reality of the supply-side factor that is important here. Thus, the US may remain an essentially closed economy in comparative terms, but if it is perceived to have undergone a process of globalization, if globalization is perceived to have led to a loss in governmental capacity and autonomy, and if this is perceived to be electorally salient, then it may well influence a citizen’s disposition to vote.
This, of course, makes the task of demonstrating empirically the existence of such supply-side factors rather more difficult than it is for their demand-side counterparts. That, in part, must surely explain the comparative silence of the existing literature on such factors. But it cannot entirely excuse such a significant oversight. It is to the task of rectifying that omission that the rest of this book is principally devoted. Before proceeding, however, it is first important to reflect on the concept of politics itself. For it has already been deployed in a variety of different ways, and it is important that we inject some clarity and precision into our usage of the term.