Analysis for Crikey [$].
It is certainly commendable that Malcolm Turnbull is encouraging a kinder, gentler way of debating politics, but he shouldn’t ignore voters’ appetite for tabloid-confected conflict and drama.
Not long after Tony Abbott became prime minister, he learned it was impossible to manage an issue that’s captured the media’s attention if you’ve essentially vacated the field.
Abbott’s “courageous” attempt to slow the media cycle failed under the onslaught of media attention when the first “wedding gate” saga erupted just weeks after his Government’s election.
In response, Abbott adopted a new media strategy that was as frenetic as his predecessor Kevin Rudd’s, obsessed with winning the news cycle using an endless rotation of hi-vis vests and flag-infested podiums.
Now our latest PM has flagged yet another approach to communicating with the Australian community.
Malcolm Turnbull has promised advocacy instead of slogans (though Treasurer Scott Morrison may not yet have received that message), to listen and be open to new ideas, and to treat voters as adults by having a national conversation about the need for reform and what those changes will entail.
And as we saw over the past weekend, the new Turnbull way also includes a different response to tragic events that may involve home-grown extremism.
The Government had already flagged late last week that it intended to move away from the divisive language used by Abbott, which reportedly had led to Muslim groups feeling marginalised and distrustful of government. The PM put this into practice on the weekend, following the police shooting of a young gunman who had killed a police employee.
Noting that the “Australian Muslim community will be especially appalled and shocked by this,” Turnbull stressed, “We must not vilify or blame the entire Muslim community with the actions of what is, in truth, a very, very small percentage of violent extremist individuals.”
According to Foreign Minister Julie Bishop, the PM also extended this conciliatory approach to a phone hook-up held with Muslim community leaders to discuss taking a “holistic approach” to combating violent extremism.
Turnbull’s overhaul of the Government’s communication strategy isn’t limited to setting a new tone and pumping out fresh messages. It also involves dissuading the media from behaving in what the former PM called a “febrile” manner.
In an attempt to inoculate his government from headlines such as “back-flip” and “back-down” when the inevitable changes are made to Abbott-era policies, Turnbull has attempted early to depict such changes as the hallmark of an agile government and that it would be “rubbish” to label them as an admission of error.
He has also tried to minimise gazumps and gotchas by refusing to play the media’s favourite game, which is to force politicians to rule things in or out, thereby leaving them exposed to broken promises at a later date.
Turnbull’s “new” approach actually hearkens to an older era, when politicians’ engagement with the media was more open and less about risk minimisation. That’s not to necessarily say there was a time when politicians were more honest with the media. But in this era of slick sound bites and focus-group tested slogans, it’s fair to say there’s never been a time when pollies have been less open with the truth.
This raises an interesting challenge for Turnbull and his Government. It may well be commendable to want to make Australia’s discussion of politics more adult, but will traditional and new media willingly go along with the change?
Both entities have established business models that, at least since the fall of Rudd, depend on pack-driven outrage, usually based on a broken commitment, an indulgence, or an imbalance in social equity. Backflips, broken promises and rorts sell more papers and generate more clicks than words of conciliation, acts of cooperation, or productive policy development.
“Man bites dog” will always beat “man pats dog” in the traditional news stakes, and increasingly drama-driven social media only serves to amplify the sensationalism.
Australians on social media may claim to want traditional media outlets to provide in-depth policy analysis instead of focusing on personalities and political machinations, but many seem to prefer politics to be conducted and reported as a gladiatorial sport than the respectful and democratic contest of ideas that PM Turnbull appears to aspire to.
Social media-driven sensationalism is now more important than substance when it comes to attracting eyes to screens. This is clear from the decision made by the establishment current affairs program Q&A to cast an individual such as Zaky Mallah in its line-up of questioners.
Our new PM may hanker for the days of gentlemanly banter across the despatch boxes at Question Time, or considered discourse in the Press Gallery afterwards, but sensationalism will remain the mainstay of tabloids and social media.
And while politically engaged social media participants in Australian are admittedly a small cohort, they nevertheless are a vocal and potentially influential subset of voters with the potential to shape politics – or at least how the traditional media perceives political events, given the media now monitors and plunders Twitter for news.
It is certainly commendable that Turnbull is encouraging us to revert to a kinder, gentler way of debating politics, but he may also need to find a way to feed voters’ appetite for tabloid-confected conflict and drama.
As Tony Abbott learned before him, Turnbull cannot afford to leave one part of the media untended. If he vacates the field, the PM’s opponents will swiftly and gladly fill the void.
Battalions of straw men sprung to life last week, conjured to defend the heretofore-unassailable political edifice known as Australia’s compulsory voting system.
Prime Minister Julia Gillard led the charge, tweeting:
Fight @theqldpremier’s plan to end compulsory voting. Don’t let the Liberals make our democracy the plaything of cashed-up interest groups.
Somewhat inconveniently, the ABC’s Antony Green pointed out that former prime minister Kevin Rudd had also encouraged a discussion on non-compulsory voting back in 2009.
The PM’s call to arms was followed by a flurry of similarly strident tweets. Many expressed horror at the thought of Campbell Newman oxymoronically taking away someone’s freedom by no longer forcing them to vote.
Almost any suggestion that non-compulsory voting could have merit was met with fervent and obdurate rejection.
Compulsory voting proponents vowed that a voluntary system in Australia would undoubtedly follow the US model, beset as it is with disenfranchisement and extremists, and not that of the UK or New Zealand, which is not. US-like ruination was apparently only a matter of time for the 20 other OECD nations that currently allow voluntary voting.
Some supporters defended the compulsion to vote as defence of a right, while others saw it as imposition of a responsibility. “People died so that we can vote,” said one. “Voting is a duty,” said another, “we might as well opt out of other ‘public good’ responsibilities like paying tax and wearing seatbelts.”
A few even tried to have it both ways, arguing that the compulsory vote is actually voluntary because one only has to turn up and not necessarily cast a vote. The Electoral Commission has (also inconveniently) challenged that argument as a common fallacy.
But if the partisan jibes and straw defenders could be set aside, it would become clear that the debate about whether or not a vote should be compelled is really one about political engagement. Many of the arguments raised against voluntary voting rely upon the resigned assumption that, given their druthers, most people could not be bothered voting.
This is the real issue that should be debated and resolved, not a scarecrow battle over compulsory versus voluntary voting.
Compulsory voting may have bestowed Australia with an admirable participation rate, but other statistics show we’re considerably disengaged from politics and becoming more so. As the Australian Electoral Commission rather euphemistically said in its analysis of informal voting at the 2010 federal election, “a challenge remains to maximise electors’ potential participation in the electoral process”.
In the 2010 federal election, the informal vote was the biggest it’s ever been since 1984, rising from 3.95 per cent at the 2007 election to 5.5 per cent. But unintentional informal votes – being those with incomplete numbering showing either a misunderstanding of what’s required or confusion with state election voting processes – actually decreased between the two elections.
It was the level of intentional informal votes that rose, now representing 48.6 per cent of all informal votes. The rate of blank ballots doubled, with more than a quarter of all informal votes cast in the 2010 election being left unmarked. The proportion of informal votes defaced with scribbles, slogans or other protest marks also increased, off a low of 6.4 per cent in 2001 to around 14 per cent in 2007 and 17 per cent in 2010.
Some might be tempted to dismiss this result as the work of Mark Latham, but that would ignore the fact noted by Peter Brent that the informal vote has been on the rise since 1993 with the exception of the 2007 federal election.
Claims that the compulsory vote makes Australians value their democratic choice are as insubstantial as straw man defenders. In 2010, almost a million of the 14 million Australians enrolled to vote simply did not bother to go to a polling booth. Another 1.4 million eligible voters were missing from the electoral roll altogether. And this number has since grown to 1.5 million.
So in 2010, within Australia’s supposedly optimal and indisputably preferable compulsory voting system, an estimated 3.2 million Australians or 21 per cent of eligible adults were either not on the electoral roll, did not turn up to vote, or lodged an informal vote. As Brian Costar and Peter Browne observed at the time, that’s equivalent to 33 federal seats. It also represents a whopping $7 million in electoral funding that never made it to political party coffers.
The compulsory vote may partially disguise Australians’ political disinterest at election time, but there’s no hiding our manifest disengagement at most other times.
The Australian Bureau of Statistics has found that only 19 per cent of adults actively participate in civic and political groups. Alongside the 1 per cent who are active in political parties, 7 per cent participate in a trade union or professional/technical association; 5 per cent in environmental or animal welfare groups; and 4 per cent in body corporate or tenants’ associations.
Perhaps the starkest indication of all is a 2011 opinion poll which found only 10 per cent of respondents follow politics closely. This proportion was quite consistent regardless of political preference and age group, except for over 55s who had a higher level of interest at 17 per cent.
Is it any wonder then that our democracy is looking a little shabby? It’s dependent upon the vote, regardless of whether it’s considered or informed, of citizens forced to attend a polling station on election day. Surely the objective of any democracy should be for voters to value their democratic right enough to participate in political discourse and processes between elections and turn out in force on polling day to cast a considered, informed ballot.
We’re missing the point arguing over the merits of voluntary voting. We should instead be identifying and implementing ways to help Australians better understand and participate in the nation’s democratic processes. This would require more than a one-off civics course in school; it would involve comprehensive and longitudinal exposure to different forms of government, political philosophies and types of engagement; experience in negotiating and advocacy; and immersion in everyday political discourse.
Once our citizens were truly engaged, they would genuinely value their vote and vigorously exercise it. The straw man defence of compulsory voting would be dispersed in the wind. It’s hard to not also conclude that the more citizens there were who decided their vote on policy comparisons instead of fridge magnets, the better quality our politicians and governments would be. Another ancillary benefit would be that viewers and readers would demand better political reporting and analysis from the media too.
Yes, this approach to civil engagement would be challenging and something that no democracy has ventured before. Is that a reason not to do it? Or is it easier to not do something because the US does it badly?
If we can make better coffee and pizza than the Yanks, why can’t we make a better voluntary voting system too?
This post originally appeared at ABC’s The Drum. The comments are well worth reading.
When I first got involved in politics at the age of 18, I knew nothing at all about the ancient practice. Nothing. I didn’t know the difference between left and right philosophies, how parliament works, or the fundamentals of modern democracy.
Yet I joined a political party, mostly because the boy I lived with had done so, and became instantly entranced by the political world. So entranced in fact that I’ve worked in and around politics for most of the 30 years since.
Despite my tendency to opine on a wide range of topics, I try not to do so without at least some understanding of the subject matter. For this reason, I quickly followed my new party membership with formal studies in political science.
Sometimes I wonder whether I would’ve stayed in the political world if I’d not made the effort to study its genesis, practices and precedents. To my mind, it’s this contextual knowledge that makes politics such a rich experience: comparing what’s happening now with what came before; searching for evidence that lessons have been learned from past mistakes; looking for patterns over time, developing theories and constantly refining these in light of contemporary political events.
I truly believe that knowledge of this kind helps us as individuals to feel engaged and involved in the democratic process, and therefore to value it more than the disengaged punter.
I also wonder whether the obverse is true. Is lack of political knowledge the reason why most voters don’t give a fig about politics?
Political enthusiasts may think everyone else takes politics as seriously as they do, but political operatives know the opposite is true.
Very few people join political parties. While reliable contemporary numbers are hard to obtain, the most recent Australian Bureau of Statistics research shows that around 1% of Australians say they actively participate in a political party.
Admittedly, political engagement can be more than just being a party member. So to complete the picture, the same ABS survey found a total of 19% of adults who say they actively participate in civic and political groups. In addition to the 1% who are active in political parties, 7% participate in trade union, professional and technical associations; 5% in environmental or animal welfare groups; and 4% in body corporate or tenants’ associations.
Even if we use a different measure to gauge Australians’ political engagement, the number is still low. A recent opinion poll found only 10% of the people surveyed say they follow politics closely. This proportion was quite consistent regardless of political preference and age group, except for over 55s which had a higher level of interest at 17%.
So what if Australian voters are generally disengaged; does this even matter until election time? Some political operatives say that while we are less engaged than other countries, we still pay attention when it counts.
While the limited political engagement of voters might suit those who run campaigns, I believe it’s this general antipathy to politics that drives the phenomenon dubbed “the Sideshow” by retired federal Finance Minister, Lindsay Tanner.
Tanner claims the media’s preoccupation with “news as entertainment” has not only diminished the quality of news reporting, but has accordingly driven politicians to either flip the switch to Vaudeville or parrot endlessly-circling soundbites to minimise the chance of mis-speaking.
Tanner either ignores or evades the corollary of his complaint. While it’s true that the media has forced politicians to turn our democratic institutions into a Punch and Judy Show, it’s also true that the media has necessarily adapted its content and presentation to satisfy the viewing/reading/listening preference of their audience.
Newspaper sales continue to dwindle. The size of television audiences for comparatively more serious news and current affairs shows are modest next to their sensationalist cousins. Advertisers are using other information platforms to reach the high income earners (and therefore spenders) in the coveted AB demographic. Is it any wonder that media corporations are scrambling to find ways to bring back the ears and eyeballs, if not the brains, of news media consumers?
Presenting news as entertainment is the logical response. The ironic side-effect is that the politically engaged, who seek objectivity and analysis, are then driven elsewhere to interact with similarly-interested, if not necessarily like-minded, voters.
Would better education in politics change Australians’ disinterest in things political? Maybe. Maybe not. A recent straw poll conducted on Twitter found less than half the tweeps that I’d consider to be politically engaged had studied political science in either high school or uni. While the poll was far from rigorous, it did surprise me.
So, I’ve adjusted my theory somewhat. Maybe we don’t need to teach even more political science in schools. Perhaps what’s needed instead is to teach political history to nascent journalists. This would help them to better understand the antecedents of a political event and hopefully result in them reporting that event with a richness of perspective that’s sadly missing right now.
Either way, something needs to be done. It’s about time we took more notice of our political institutions and accepted responsibility for the tenuous links that contemporary Australian politics has to what we consider to be important.
While I disagree with Tanner’s complaint that the media is making our politicians dumb, I do believe it has the power, and perhaps even the responsibility, to make voters better educated on political matters. Perhaps what is needed is for voters to tell the media that this is what we want.
This piece originally appeared at The King’s Tribune