#364: Election Flyers
How do I choose who to vote for?
I do not know if I am political. I do know that I am sceptical of all politics, even as I appreciate what a difficult job it must be to be a politician. And I most definitely know that I have no inclination to become one.
Today is an election day in the UK, for a range of roles, depending on your location. I live in Edinburgh, so in my immediate context the focus is on the Scottish Parliament, and that tricky question of Scottish independence. Today may not be a General Election, but it is a ‘Super Thursday’ — a day when several types of elections are taking place, and the Super Thursday of 2021 is focused around a number of controversial topics, including Brexit and the EU, independence, the NHS, and covid recovery.
Or at least, that is what I am aware of being the big issues, because these are the issues that are coming through my door every day. Bearing bold colours and capital letters, and presented in an object that I most often place straight into the recycling bin: political flyers, in all their varying glory, keep appearing through my door.
Depending on a range of factors, the time I spend reading these flyers varies considerably. I like to think of myself as diplomatic, wanting to hear multiple views — but in practice, I appear to be quickly dismissive of particular parties that come through my door, and perhaps too sympathetic of others.
I find it difficult, as a general civilian who is not actively engaged with politics, to find a reasonable point of view. How much time should I spend researching each party? How can I trust anything that they say? Can I let my emotions, or my gut instinct, be involved in the process? When I find myself distrusting every piece of information I am shown, I struggle to see how I can do anything but that last option.
Let’s face it: life is busy. It has been busy for a long time, and that was before we faced a global pandemic. My opinion on politics has certainly taken on a particular, often despairing, tone as I watch various leaders respond to the issues of the world, but I also know that all of the information that I have to go on is just that: watched, from a distance, and filtered through a particular perspective. The most trustworthy information I feel I have right now is how I have watched these parties act over the last few years, mediated through the media that I consume. I know which party I have no patience for, I know which political figures I admire and which I find insulting, and I know which parties I just find confusing.
So now, on election day, I turn to these flyers, pieces of paper that are trying to convince me of certain pieces of information. Do these flyers inform my opinions? It turns out that, if I take a chance to read them, they do: I read each one and try to read between the lines, as I was taught in my high school English Language classes. I read their biased text and ask: what are they not telling me? What is the focus? Are there any large numbers of money being quoted, without context for what a million pounds really means? Are there colourful graphs which tell me very little?
Most of the time, these flyers go straight to the recycling bin, dismissed for their propaganda elements, and extremely biased creators. But when I feel like I have little else to go on, I start to look at them. I have no straight answer for how one can responsibly make an election choice without spending many hours doing detailed research — hours of time and emotional stamina which I do not have to spend. But I do have these flyers. I may not trust what they say on the surface, but I am an English Literature student, and if there’s one thing I can do, it’s analyse a text. Once I’ve used my pencil for annotating, I’ll be using it to make my cross in the ballot box, because if there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that I won’t lose my chance to vote.
