Election 2017. What happened last night. And why?
The musings of a systems-thinking loon.
Why did the politicians get it so wrong? And why do they get it so wrong and so often.
At 10pm, heavy church doors swung shut. Clang. Votes were cast.
At 10pm, wine bottles opened. Pop. Voting was over.
At 10pm, the BBC coverage started. Voters sat down.
And from 10pm, we watched. As votes were counted.
The politicians and the press watched. The pollsters and the pundits watched. And the people, with their prosecco, watched.
They watched because Theresa May was taking on the people.
In the amphitheatre of politics, in a battle royal, for a deal-maker’s mandate, she put up her dukes.
In the blue corner: Theresa “The wheat-runner” Maaa-yyy.
And in the red corner: Jezza “Comrade” Cor-byyyyynnn.
For seven weeks, she had limbered up. For seven days, she had talked up. For seven hours, she had gloved up.
And now, in catastrophic style, she hadf-f-f-messed up.
But why? And was it her fault alone? What about her corner?
Did Jezza win? Had he scored a knockout blow? And could his corner be proud?
Today, across the country, much wringing of hands.
Along the dark, dusty and damp corridors of Westminster, they worry and wonder. And on the worn-out, carpeted rooms of constituencies, they pace and they ponder.
Where did we go wrong? They ask.
What did we miss? They think.
What should we have done differently? They whispe.
You went wrong because your system is broken. We answer.
You missed the emergence of an alternative movement. We say.
You should have learnt. We shout.
You see, my friends, politics is a system. It is an old system. It works for the few, not the many.
Across the Middle East, we have seen a movement. Tired of their old systems, they rose up.
And now, in the West, we will have our movement. Tired of our systems, we will rise up.
Is it a coincidence that the broken and old system is failing, at the same time, at the same speed an in the opposite direction of a new system, that is succeeding?
Politics is an old system. It works for the few. Not the many.
Blockchain is a system. It is a new system. It works for the many. Not the few.
If politics is the “action”, is blockchain the “reaction”?
Politics is undemocratic. First past the post? Really? Less than 50% of eligible voters voted for Theresa May. Yet she will be Prime Minister. Doesn’t sound like democracy to me. Sounds like mob-rule.
Because politics is centralised. The power is held by a few. Over there. In one place. Not by many. Over here. And here. And here.
Because politics is regulated. In politicians’ favour. A 16 year old girl can decide to have sex. Or she can decide to get married. Or she can decide to work. Or she can decide to join the Armed Forces. And be ordered to kill. On your behalf. But she can’t decide who makes the laws that govern her marriage. Or decide who makes the laws that govern her work. Or decide who makes the decision to go to war. And order her to kill.
Because politics is centralised. Look at the numbers: Sixty-five million people. Three views. Two parties. One king-maker. Left. Centre. Right. Labour. Conservative. DUP. Sixty-five million people. Presided over by a reductionist system. Of polarising views. Peddled by polarising people. And whips.
And because politics is the norm. The system was designed hundreds of years ago. By men wearing wigs. Armed with quills and ink. It has changed, but it hasn’t transformed.
What happened last night was failure. And what will happen next will be failure. And after that? More failure. Until we change.
We will never fix the problem, by using the thinking that created the problem. It is time for a change. It is time for a transformation.
It is time to go “Block to the future.”
Blockchain is a system. It is a new system.
Blockchain is a democratic system. The information it records isn’t stored once in a single system. It is stored many times across many independent nodes. Votes are immutable. And voting would be electronic. From any device. In any location. 60 year old like the ceremony of the slow stroll to the church call. A chat with the neighbours on the village green. The pomposity of the pencil as X marks the spot. 16 year olds don’t. They are busy. Open. Click. Done. Next.
Blockchain is a decentralised system. Politicians have bad ideas. They make bad decisions. And bad things happen. But where is the accountability? Do they lose their position? Rarely. With blockchain, their ideas are voted on. Good idea? Yes, get on with it. Bad idea? No. Try again.
Blockchain is a deregulated system. Regulation takes time and costs money. Regulators are large bodies. They move slowly. Politicians are there to represent us. Why do we need another layer between us and them? Another layer to make another set of decisions. Blockchain enables the elimination or irrational regulation. It takes the power from the regulator and gives it back to you. And me. We decide what we want.
Blockchain is a distributed system. With sixty-five millions people, how can there be just two views? One from the left and one from the right? One for the poor and one for the rich? Our society isn’t black and white. Or red and blue. It is multi-coloured. Multiple people. Multiple views. Multiple ideas. Policy making can’t be centralised. Decisions can’t come from two polarised views. Distribute engagement and you engage the distributed.
And blockchain is a disruptive system. It doesn’t challenge the status quo. It destroys it. It rips apart the rule book.
What happened last night and today happened because the system is broken. And it can’t be fixed.
We need a new system of politics.
We need a democratic system of politics.
We need a decenralised system of politics.
We need a deregulated system of politics.
We need a distributed system of politics.
We need a disruptive system of politics.
We need to go “Block to the future.”