These are wonderful times — glorious! — for people like me who are trained for absolutely nothing. The worst thing you can be is an educated expert with any form of experience, especially if you are running for political office. So, given my only certification is a degree in English Literature, which means I’m qualified to read novels, something most people manage without accreditation, this means I’m equipped to run a country. Vote for me: I once wrote an essay on Thomas Hardy and the pathetic fallacy! Presidential and prime ministerial candidates have been campaigning on less.
Faith in the political system, the cliche goes, has been broken — in the United States by a series of dodgy wars, and in the United Kingdom by one particular war. Whether the desired result of this people’s revolution is a former education secretary dismissing the economists who warned that Brexit was a bad idea with the airy claim, “People in this country have had enough of experts”, or Andrea Leadsom suggesting that being a mother is a more important qualification than, say, six years as home secretary, is a different issue. Gosh, was that a baby I just saw flying past the window along with the bath water?
Perhaps Leadsom quit the race to be Tory leader because she realised ministerial experience is quite helpful when running for prime minister, perhaps because she made the error of beefing up her CV — that old-school mistake of exaggerating her expertise when she should have downplayed it. Theresa May was the ultimate winner, but Leadsom’s implosion will not change the mood. Just as any flaws in leadership candidates for either party in Britain have been cited as proof they are not “career politicians”, so any failures have been seen as evidence of dark machinations of threatened elitists (a word that now seems synonymous with “experts”) running “a black ops operation”, as Iain Duncan Smith put it.
Never mind that the events of the past few months have repeatedly proved our so-called elites can barely figure out how to coordinate their exhales and inhales, any criticism is dismissed as grand conspiracy. Not since the charming 1993 film Dave, in which an innocent employment agency owner (Kevin Kline) takes over as president, has the homespun outsider been so heavily touted as the solution. But the real-life results have felt a little more like a clown school in chaos than a joyful sequel to King Ralph. Caring about winning elections is “Westminster-centric”, according to Diane Abbott, which might come as news to the working classes whose livelihoods depend on the Labour party being able to effect laws. It’s the ultimate anti-intellectualism, a mood that values emotions and personality over argument and experience, and you need only look to America to see the endgame, where Donald Trump thinks understanding showbusiness is a political qualification. Sadly, it seems he’s not entirely wrong about that.
Anyway, this is the world we now live in. But if American billionaires and the Leave campaign, staffed by bankers and the privately educated, can claim to be fighting “the elites”, then so can I. If any of you are considering running for public office — and, these days, who isn’t? — here are my three golden rules for non-expert outsiders.
First, there’s no need for political experience when you have a family. Admittedly, this tactic didn’t work so well for Leadsom, but only because she contrasted her saintly motherhood with May’s suspect childlessness, which even Tories saw as a bit much. But politicians have been insinuating this for years, making doe-eyed references to their families. The only skill motherhood has given me is a tolerance for being peed on at regular intervals. Does that help with running a country? Apparently so.
Second, planning is for losers and winging it’s for winners. Boring things such as manifestos and policies are evidence of a political nature, which is unacceptable in politics now. Just make up your answers on the spot: imprison women who have abortions! Build a wall! Then keep the news cycle moving so people forget what you just said.
Third, maintain an unshakeable self-belief. Remember, in this Through-The-Looking Glass-with-added-doublespeak world, where ignorance is a virtue, experience is suspect and electability is worse, everything you do and say, no matter how damaging, is great. Caused the pound to nosedive?
You saved Britain! Someone pointed out your mistake? They’re corrupt! You’re perfect, you massive ignoramus. As for the rest of us, the key thing to remember is that things can always get worse. Think you hit rock bottom with Leadsom and the Leave campaign? So did America with Sarah Palin, only for Trump to turn up. Buckle up, Britain.
— Guardian News & Media Ltd
Hadley Freeman is a Guardian columnist and features writer.
