Evolutionary Voting Tactics

Charles Darwin knew a thing or two about niches. His seminal study of the Galápagos finches explained how each species had evolved a means of exploiting the scarce resources of their harsh environment. Beaks. That was the secret.

Humans are a species of many beaks and can exploit almost any environment given, as Barnum observed, enough suckers. And we’re all suckers for one thing or another, aren’t we? Even the beleaguered Yosser was just a finch in search of the right kind of seed.

Here’s a great example. Set up a monitoring body for education and watch the finches flock. The creation of an inspectorate in turn creates inspectors, who then probe and point and write reports. “Something must be done!” They say, so things are done. Principally, resources are diverted to the task; food for finches. As the forerunner of Ofsted was founded almost 200 years ago they’ve had plenty of time to get really good at it.

“New slates!” they demanded and manufacturers sprang up to service that demand. Today, we have a slavering over all things electronic and pointless £gazillions are spent feeding the biggest, dumbest birds you ever did see, with remarkably little impact on the preparedness of the young chicks to take flight. But think of the jobs at stake if we suddenly came to our senses. The education industry is a behemoth and we should be grateful to watchdogs like Andrew Old for keeping a eye on its inanities.

The same happens in medicine; collusion between health authorities, doctors, drug companies, newspapers, television and Uncle Tom Cobley and all conspire to create both the habitats and the denizens to inhabit them. Made-up diseases, made-up cures and made up ‘ologies’ keep millions in employment. Shocked? Don’t be. It’s the economy, stupid.

People have a way of sniffing out an opportunity. And people have a way of doing what little they can to improve their own chances. Entrepreneurs need no government help, but will naturally vote for the side least likely to tax their endeavours into dust. The less able will opt for the side most likely to try to buy their allegiance. And the good people in the middle will recognise that without trade there will be no jobs, no dole and not enough nuts to go round.

Which kind of explains why the latest opinion polls show Labour with a convincing lead against the Conservatives and yet more people (36% to 28%) still trust the Tories with the economy. It isn’t nonsensical, it is entirely consistent with human behaviour.

Which is also why, despite the utterly untenable notion of Ken Livingstone regaining the title of London Mayor, some tits are still going to vote for him.

Tit-for-twat. Don't be a Tit. Don't vote for a Twat.

Viva la Revolution!

“Pass the port, brother.” The port was duly passed and dispensed and glasses raised by wizened old hands. The hands of giants. At last the dream was realised and centuries of subjugation ended. The old union lions had finally brought about the crushing defeat of the political elite. Power to the people.

The Lords Spiritual now banished, the Lords Temporal mostly in prison or in exile, the magisterial upper chamber silently awaited the common tongue and an end to unearned privilege. But first, the important issue of lunch. Waste was clearly wrong, of course, so until supplies of beer and pasties could be brought in, the assembled politburo would have to grudgingly make do with the contents of the Lords’ kitchens.

“You know, you could get used to this.” declared Dennis Skinner, as he snarfed up a quail’s egg and took a sip of vintage Bollinger.

“Agreed.” agreed John Prescott. As a member of the advance guard he had developed an impressive palate. “You should try the Chateau Margaux with the fillet” he added, with a satisfied belch and proposed a toast to Leveson, the start of the revolution. “Leveson!” they cried in Unison. “That should be UNISON!” shouted Dave Prentis, before passing out on a red leather bench.

As the afternoon wore on and the wine cellar wore down, the order of business turned to how the assembly should proceed, Len McCluskey proposed they elect a leader, to which Bob Crow objected that they had not torn down one elite to build up another… but offered to take on the role himself. There followed a heated discussion on the purpose and nature of government. By the people, for the people, was the consensus.

In the end it was agreed that the country needed an elected house of representatives of the common people and that, for want of a better title “The House of Commons” would serve well enough. But, lest those people become power-crazed it was essential that another body, shall we call it an upper house, would be necessary to curb their excesses. “That’ll be us then.” said Christine Blower, “We’ll teach them a lesson!”

“Well, now we’re here we need to stay here,” said big John P “so that lot down there don’t get above their station.” The statement was met with hearty agreement and another round of drinks was ordered. The poor house servants eyed each other nervously; this was all looking horribly familiar. “So, appointed, not elected, right?” continued John, “and we’ll need to think up a name.”

“How about, The Upper House?” asked a crusty relic from the TGWU. More vintage port was quaffed as debate raged. A few bread rolls were thrown and a fist-fight broke out in the aisle. To counter the servants’ concerns the members of the club offered to pay for any damages. Bob Crow peeled off a few fifties from a fat bankroll and threw it loftily at one of the stewards. “Plenty more where that came from.” In the end it was proposed, to murmurs of approval, that the title House of Lords was retained until something more grand was suggested.

“But, that’s what the last lot called it!” objected Len.

Man of the People

“True,” said John, donning an ermine cloak, “but they’re gone now… and besides, we’re better than them.”

Speaking confidentially

I have a probelm with confidence.

How naïve can you get?

This week I encountered a grizzled old class warrior, a red book waving, card-carrying Marxist firebrand, who regaled me with stories of the most extraordinary deviousness and back-room dealings, secret pacts and international plots to supress the aspirations of the working man. This swivel-eyed mentalist had dates and names going back to the glory days of the seventies, charting how the wicked capitalists had systematically emasculated the unions to bring us to the current state of affairs.

Well, I’ve met, you know, “people” and I have yet to see any evidence that mankind possesses the wit or intelligence to pull off any such prolonged and above all, coordinated, scheme. More often than not, as Rab said, “The best-laid schemes o’ mice an' men gang aft agley.”

BBC Question Time last night – always a rich seam of unintentional humour – presented the usual rag bag of apologists for Socialism, apologists for the present administration and the cattle-prod herded, demented loons of the audience. As per expectations, at times it descended into the familiar tit-for-tat squabbling about whose fault everything is.

The only panellist who stood out, who presented clear, unbiased-sounding arguments, who actually voiced the opinions of a good many viewers, whatever their socio-political allegiance, was Nigel Farage of UKIP. Farage consistently performs well in Brussels, he’s not afraid of a fight and he seems to be one of the few politicians with a genuine love of this country and the balls to question orthodoxy.

Subsequent Twitter-chatter revolved around the fact that neither of the two main parties really have a clue and nobody in their right minds would trust the perpetually confused Libdems, so er, what about giving UKIP a go? The main argument against was UKIP’s inexperience in government. As compared to the vast experience and impeccable credentials of the current mob of career politi-children on both sides of the house, you mean?

When Tim Martin was at school, a teacher named J D Wetherspoon told him he would never make it in business. When he started the pub chain that now bears his old teacher’s name he knew nothing about running a pub. Tim’s also a renowned Eurosceptic, on record as saying he believes the euro will collapse. I’m inclined to believe him far more readily than I am to trust the opinion of any one of the ‘experts’ who failed to prevent the global financial crisis and are currently pouring €billions into shoring up the hated Euro-fiasco.

Europe in pictures

 Conventional political wisdom says, effectively, do nothing, tinker at the margins and keep your fingers crossed that a global upswing will save us. Farage says, to hell with Europe, let’s get out and take our chances. Naïve, some say and I agree. But isn’t now exactly the right time for some naive politics? Time to disregard the complex myths of entrenched political dogma, throw away the rule book and do what feels right.

History is liberally peppered with self-made heroes who had absolutely no business going and getting successful, but did it anyway. So why not, next Thursday, give the tired old parties a bloody nose and give UKIP a chance to step up? How hard can it be, after all and what's the worst that could happen?

A Few Good Men

In a follow-up to yesterday's housing benefit story I offer another view, from The Daily Mail's Stephen Glover. Of course there's a problem right there. As soon as I cite the Daily Mail, there will be a visceral reaction from certain quarters that the DM is only capable of biased reporting which, ironically enough, is exactly what that article is complaining about.

I got into a small twitter-spat last night on similar lines; that from one perspective another's viewpoint will be biased. In this case I was 'chatting' to a lawyer, in my opinion a profession with no more sense of right and wrong than many of the villains it often represents. (Nothing personal, Jane.) It came down to a simple choice - given a vote would you put to the sword all the tradesmen (such as electricians) or could you suffer to live without lawyers?

Survey: Given a choice, who would you put up against the wall?

          A) Bent, scum-sucking, parasitic lawyers, or
          B)  Good, honest, down to earth tradesmen

Do you see what I did there? I deftly employed a certain amount of barely discernible spin to influence your vote, just like the politicos do. (Although in this case there was no need; the lawyers every time, right?)

In the movie, Colonel Jessup said "You can't handle the truth!" But what IS the truth? I know what I think - and so do you - but there is always more than one way of looking at any issue, to wit:

• Did the government just generously increase pensions or viciously slash them?
• Did they cut their wealthy chums a nice tax break, or will the 45% rate actually increase the overall tax take, which is far more important for the country? (The reaction of wealthy Français to proposals to increase theirs to 45% suggests the latter but only time will tell.)
• Have we actually had any real cuts in public spending yet, or is everybody just reacting the way The Guardian and the BBC tells them they should?
• Living standards falling is not the same thing as true, harsh austerity - many people live beyond their real means anyway. For the greater majority, life continues pretty much the same with a bit of added thrift. Sounds sensible to me, but to some it's like stamping on the heads of babies.

Both sides let their political affiliations affect their judgement, which makes rational discussion and debate almost impossible. To the left any reductions in public spending are a calculated assault on the very poor. To the right, those in work cannot be expected to forever pay for more and more poor - they breed, you know.

But worse than that, it makes it nigh-on impossible to even know what the truth is because those who deliver this important information may often be biased themselves. (Take a bow, the popular news media.) Then it all comes down to perception and acceptability. While the last government were spending every penny they could to buy acceptance, riding the wave of worldwide fiscal madness and impropriety, nobody cared because the world looked like they thought it ought to look.

Truth or Beauty?

I have a feeling that what we are experiencing right now is nothing more or less than naked reality. And while the truth doesn't have to be ugly, it often falls short of what you might want to be told. But, as Paloma Faith asks, "Do you want the truth or something beautiful?"

Please feel free to vote on the lawyer thing by casting your vote in comments, below.