Are Your For Real?

Daniel Finkelstein wrote an interesting article for The Times the other day on a subject that I've been banging on about for a long time - the likelihood of another Coalition  Government and 'hung' Westminster Parliament after the next general election in 2015.

Now it seems to me that Westminster is a very undemocratic Parliament these days - because it is the only major election in the UK where some form of PR (proprotional representation) is not used to elect successful candidates.

Which means that Westminster is becoming increasingly unrepresentative - UKIP, for example, while being a force to be reckoned with especially in England - is unlikely to have any MPs elected to the House of Commons under a FPTP (First Past The Post) system.

And while I don't have any time for UKIP - I do think it's undemocratic for a party with a significant level of public support not to be properly represented in the most powerful legislature in the land.

It comes down to a basic sense of fairness - just as it is plain daft and discriminatory for trade unions to recruit only Labour Party members at senior level - while claiming to represent the views of all their members - including those who support UKIP of which there must be quite a number these days. 

So, I tip my hat to Daniel Finkelstein - he might be a Tory supporter but that doesn't stop him from speaking good, old-fashioned common sense.

Which part of your manifesto is for real?

By Daniel Finkelstein

Politicians will be pressed to say which of their promises are non-negotiable in the event of another coalition

“If a person voluntarily goes through a difficult experience in order to attain some goal or object, that goal or object becomes more attractive.

“If on your way to join a discussion group, a flowerpot fell from the open window of an apartment building and hit you on the head, you would not like that discussion group any better. But if you volunteered to get hit on the head by a flowerpot to become a member of the group, you would definitely like the group more.”

The night before David Cameron entered 10 Downing Street, Sir Malcolm Rifkind stood up at a meeting of Conservative MPs and clicked his fingers. You are asking us, he said to his party leader, to make a decision like this (click), “within seconds”.

The Liberal Democrats had been discussing the alternative vote “for years. But you require a decision now, that’s the political reality.” Sir Malcolm felt that, in the national interest, there was no alternative but to agree to the leadership’s proposal. The Conservatives must offer a referendum on AV in order to secure a coalition deal.

In his book 5 Days to Power, the Conservative MP Rob Wilson records this intervention along with the reaction of his fellow MPs. Some had misgivings but stayed silent, others felt that they weren’t called to speak. And there was, claimed Mr Wilson, “an undercurrent” that a minority Government would be preferable to a coalition. But “few were prepared to rock the boat”. The leadership, this account suggests, achieved acquiescence rather than agreement.

Meanwhile, as others have recorded, the Liberal Democrats were in almost constant session. Meeting after meeting secured the co-operation of almost everyone in the party.

If you want to understand the state of the coalition today, the easiest way is this — the Liberal Democrats volunteered to get hit on the head by a flowerpot, the Conservatives did not.

Now, as it happens, I strongly believe that both parties made the right choice and that in the case of the Tories it was the only sensible choice available. But countless pieces of social psychology research demonstrate the validity of the point made by the distinguished academics Carol Tavris and Elliot Aronson.

If you are going to have to do something painful — give something away, make a compromise, undergo humiliation, whatever — it can work for you if you have accepted the pain voluntarily. The act of accepting it increases your commitment to the outcome as you explain to yourself why you agreed to it. But if the pain is not voluntary, you don’t feel like that at all.

Everyone thought it would be Liberal Democrats who would rebel against the coalition because of the pain it has caused them. In fact it has been the Tories who have rebelled, even though the pain is much less. That is because in the Lib Dem case the pain reinforces their emotional commitment to the Government while in the Tory case the pain erodes it.

And this has important implications for what happens next. There has been a fair deal of consideration about which partner the Lib Dems would prefer to govern with. But this assumes that either of the other parties would be willing, or able, to go into coalition with them.

Take the Conservatives. And assume for a second that they found themselves in a similar arithmetical position in 2015 to the one in 2010. It is unthinkable that a new coalition would be formed without much more extensive discussion and agreement. The whole party would have to enter into it voluntarily. And the debate would be much more open and, frankly, much more difficult.

And as the election approaches, if a hung Parliament looks even quite likely (as it very probably will) the debate about the terms of any deal will begin before polling day.

It is, for example, inconceivable that Mr Cameron will not face this question: “Is your promised in/out referendum negotiable as part of a coalition deal?” And any answer apart from “no, it is absolutely not negotiable” is also unthinkable. Any other answer would be pointless, too, because no Tory leader would be allowed by the party to play a part in government without delivering a referendum.

Yet once he has answered this question, how could he brush off other questions of the same kind? How could he avoid setting out some sort of outline negotiating position before polling day? I am, incidentally, not necessarily urging him to do so, merely noting that it seems hard to resist.

And in case you think these questions are just for him, let me try another one. Labour will make its position on the deficit central to its policy. And so will the Liberal Democrats. And yet the two parties will have very different positions. Will they therefore be saying that they can’t do a deal? Or will one of them (or both) effectively be saying that on this most important of all policy matters, they aren’t all that serious and are willing to give in?

Is it impossible to imagine the Liberal Democrats announcing that both their commitment to their deficit policy and their commitment not to have an in/out referendum is non-negotiable? Thus making it impossible for anyone to form a coalition?

In 2010 this problem was largely avoided by the fact that no one pushed the two bigger parties too hard on their negotiating position.

So when, for instance, George Osborne announced his inheritance tax policy in 2007, he was asked all sorts of questions about how he would pay for it. But no one thought to ask what turned out to be the criticial question: how important is this policy to you in the event that Vince Cable opposes it?

Surely this will not be the case this time round. When Ed Miliband, for instance, finally gets around to announcing his economic policy, he is bound to be pressed quite hard on how much he is willing to compromise.

The next election will be the red line election. It will be one defined not by policy pledges but by how robust those pledges are. Beyond the normal manifestos there will have to be negotiating positions, “red line” manifestos as it were. Leaders will be pressed on how much they are willing to give. They will also have to take their parties with them, requiring a degree of consultation with MPs and others before an election.

And it is quite possible that, by the end of it all, the red lines will make the formation of a new coalition — should one be needed — very difficult indeed.