This short article for the Hunts Post is one of the pieces of writing I’m most proud of, right up there with my doctoral thesis. It’s the last thing I wrote for the Hunts Post when I was mayor; I didn’t put it on here at the time, but I want to have it on here for posterity or whatever.
‘I’m not meant to be political when I’m wearing the mayor’s chain’.
I’ve found myself saying that a lot this past year.
That is a very strange thing for a mayor to say. I would suggest that the fact that a mayor exists is political. I would say that the mayor being the chair of the council is political. I am pretty confident in saying that representing a council that can tax you is political.
Nevertheless, I’ve felt the need to say that I’m not political.
The sad reality is that politics is a dirty word, political an expletive, and politician an insult.
Partly, this is because we say political when we mean party political or partisan.
Partly, this is because the particular structures we have in the UK need reform.
Partly, it’s because politics is hard. It means making difficult choices with insufficient information and limited resources. It means balancing doing things quickly and doing things right. It means both leading and consulting.
Partly, it’s because politics and politicians do not have a good reputation – often deservedly. That’s not just because politics is slow, messy, and difficult. I’m not sure we’ve got to grips with just how damaging the MP’s expenses scandal was for trust, particularly for younger voters for whom it is one of their first political memories.
I cannot blame people, given what I’ve said, for not just being sceptical but being cynical about politics.
Despite all the reproach that politics and politicians get, politics is also a dirty word because nobody stands up for politics. Nobody says that, despite the mistakes and missteps and missed opportunities, politics is good.
So, let me stand up for politics.
Politics means parks, bins, roads, jobs, trains, schools, and hospitals.
It means safe food and warm homes.
It means safety. It means security. It means dignity.
I suspect that a lot of people will read what I have said and will be thinking about the condition of the roads, or of the health service, or of any one of countless other problems we face. I do not deny them or try to mitigate them for a moment. The fact that our politics aren’t working as they should is a reason to improve politics, not to abandon politics.
What I’m saying will be of little comfort to someone who is waiting for Chorus to fix their leaking roof, or who has to choose between whether to turn on the oven or turn on the heating, or who has to wait – and wait – and wait – for a mental health appointment.
But I believe it is true.
It is possible to imagine a world without politics. Thomas Hobbes set out what it would look like – life would be ‘nasty, brutish and short’.
We can see the value of politics, even when imperfect, without going to such extremes. If I can use the Town Council as an example: there have been times on the town council when I have wanted to – metaphorically speaking – tear my hair out. There has been more than one occasion when I’ve looked back on a decision I made and later regretted. The procedures we have to go through are sometimes Kafkaesque.
Nevertheless, from the Coneygear Centre to the crematorium to Britain in Bloom to the Fayre on the Square, the work as a whole is worthwhile. It’s not perfect. It’s still good. It’s still worth it.
Politics is more, though, than councillors and councils and meetings and minutes.
If I can paraphrase Sir Bernard Crick’s line, politics should be ethics done in public.
During my year as mayor, I have met the most wonderful people giving their time and strength for the good of the community in big ways and small. I have bad news for those people – what you’re doing is political.
What you’re up to is ethics done in public – taking a moral position, and acting on it. In the best possible way, what you’re doing is political.
That does not absolve elected politicians, or people who aspire to be elected politicians, from anything. It also does not absolve any of us of our responsibilities to be engaged in politics as we are able, even if we’d rather not. We do need to keep a sceptical – but not cynical – eye on our elected representatives.
That does mean politics is more than what goes on in the Town Hall, Pathfinder House, or Shire Hall. It’s more even than what goes on in Westminster and Whitehall. It means reporting a pothole, picking up a discarded crisp packet, checking on your neighbour. That’s politics. It means volunteering, reading the news, taking an active interest in your community. That’s politics.
It means, hopefully and however imperfectly, that politics is ethics done in public.
If I may borrow a line from Skunk Anansie, yes, it’s political; everything’s political.
It doesn’t change that our politics need to improve.
But it does mean that if we want politics to improve, we have to improve our politics. That means lots of things, but it does mean not shying away from saying that what we are doing is political. So, if I can finish my term as mayor with a request, it is this: please, be political.
The Hunts Post, 1st May 2023.