I’ve often heard proud Brits extol the virtue of our democracy. Some will even go as far as championing our unwritten constitution – a mishmash of conventions, common law, and Acts of Parliament ─ as a marvel of democratic resilience and flexibility. The fact is that the majority of citizens don’t have a Scooby-Doo about how the mechanics of our political structures work. It’s not on the school curriculum and even at its best it is not what anyone would call a spectator sport ─ unless they are a fully paid-up political nerd wearing the obligatory anorak. And yet, a good proportion of mouthier Brits profess to have a specialist knowledge that they are able to wield across even the most complicated of domestic affairs ─ often paraphrased as “that’s democracy, get over it!”
When quizzed on their authority to make such presumptions they can adopt several postures (whilst wearing their Union Jack shorts): talking absolute twaddle (a favourite British pastime), kicking the conversation into the Twilight Zone ─ where Jeremy Corbyn will inevitably appear ─ or simply repeating their initial mantra. For some of us it can be hard not to disengage when faced with such obvious absurdity, but please accept the irrefutable fact that cognitive dissonance is utterly impregnable. This psychological perception of contradictory evidence can fry the brains of those mortals into steadfastly believing, for example, that Boris Johnson is really a good honest fellow (like bellend Brendan Clarke-Smith, MP for Bassetlaw, Nottinghamshire). Please do not attempt to undo what is undoable; or, as the wise sage Mark Twain observed, “Never argue with an idiot. They will drag you down to their level and beat you with experience.” At this juncture, I must ask you to leave this particular conversation if you are an admirer of Lee Anderson, MP for Ashfield, Jonathan Gullis, MP for Stoke-on-Trent North, Jacob Rees-Mogg, Minister for the reintroduction of penny-farthings, the liar-in-chief, Johnson, or indeed, anyone of similar ilk. You aren’t qualified to proceed. If the coast is clear, I will continue.
It may surprise you to learn that we do not live in a democracy. We are governed by a parliamentary democracy. At first sight this may seem a subtle meander away from the primary term, but it is, in fact, a seismic shift away from what the ordinary folk on the Clapham omnibus would probably cite. In a nutshell, our system of governance – the process that interferes with every conceivable facet of your life: flushing the loo, driving to the seaside, who protects you at night when you are fast asleep, and pretty much everything else in between – relies on each of us giving up a tad of individual freedom and assigning that most precious commodity into the care of a small bunch of people who collectively form parliament. Look at those who presently sit on the benches of the House of Commons, and, in particular, those on the side of Government. Would you honestly let the majority of them anywhere near your recycling bin, or have faith that they can tie their own shoelaces without assistance? If in doubt, reflect on a few of the MPs I have already mentioned.
If that is not enough to make to want to vomit into a scrunched-up copy of the Daily Mail, ponder this stark fact: our first past the post electoral system is a simple majority process that means that as long as one party wins fifty percent plus one of the parliamentary seats, they are in power. Since as far back as 1918, the government of the day has been overwhelmingly out of kilter with the consensus of the country. For instance, when in power, the right of centre Conservative party had a lower vote share ─ bar the odd blip of 1931 – than the combined left of centre parties of Labour and the Liberal Democrats. Within social settings we can often use a version of democracy to make decisions and elegantly cut through deadlock. Imagine that you and I and a chum are discussing what we want to eat. You and I put our hands up for Italian, whilst our opposing companion prefers an Indian; we are having pizza. It doesn’t work like that in our parliamentary democracy.
Skipping back to the last general election, Johnson is hailed by some as the messiah since he won a crushing parliamentary majority. That is indeed what happened, but surely true democracy requires a little more scrutiny, and how it happened is just as valid an enquiry. Johnson lied on an industrial scale. Even a bench with the gargantuan falsifiers Prospero, Mr Darcy, and Billy Liar, couldn’t hold a candle to his mastery of treachery: from the high-rise lies that were eventually consumed by a straightforward majority in the 2016 referendum, to the stratospheric falsehoods he scattered around like an out control muck spreader to win the 2019 general election, with the pick of them being “Get Brexit Done” and the existence of an “oven-ready” deal. I am pretty sure that even I could encourage the majority of drinkers in my local pub to rush to the bar and grab a free drink after I had bellowed out “I’ve won the lottery – the drinks are on me!” and whilst doing so, fail to notice me leaving by the back door.
Arguably, before Johnson took a wrecking ball to our fragile parliamentary democracy, so purposively and enthusiastically supported by his band of loyal loony tune supporters (and spare a thought for that cabal of cultists ─ yes I spelt that correctly – who are fundamentalists and no truth can easily derail that thought pattern), the system of governance was such that other nation states didn’t look at our once proud country and consider it to be a complete basket case; but if there is one salutary lesson to be learnt from the carnage caused by the Johnson era, it is that parliamentary democracy isn’t as robust as we perhaps once thought it was ─ although one of the few rules of absolute authority for any UK government, irrespective of colour, is parliamentary supremacy; or, in other words, supreme power over any other entity in the entire universe. To suggest that the lot from Swindon (with reverence to Ricky Gervais’ character in The Office) or Brussels, had any dominant authority over us Brits was another lie perpetrated by Johnson, ably assisted by his complicit companion Nigel Farage.
So, next time you hear the word democracy within the context of political debate, remember that it is – at best – a poor second to simply putting your hand up and winning the vote on where to eat.
Ian Kirke LLB (Hons)
© Ian Kirke 2023
Title Photograph Paul Silvan on Unsplash
@ianjkirke