Fixing the Voting System

Pure Politics

A coalition cracked

Simon Jenkins

In The Times, October 30.

Lord Jenkins reported on ways to alter the first-past-the-post electoral system, which works fine in the US, Canada, and other places...

The Jenkins report is a classic of what is emerging as the Blair style of government.
Lord Jenkins of Hillhead yesterday presented his electoral reform as a Renaissance prince might present his people with an heir. "Tis a small thing," he announced, "but perfectly formed. And 'tis honestly mine, delivered I assure you of my dear wife Expediency."
The Jenkins report is a classic of what is emerging as the Blair style of government. With much ballyhoo, a radical expedition is dispatched against some perceived enemy, such as the House of Lords or waiting lists or bad trains. Much energy is expended and expectation aroused. Then the Government has second thoughts. "Er, um," it cries, and the expedition is frantically recalled.
The story of the report so far is as follows. At the last general election Tony Blair's focus groups goaded him to pledge a referendum on proportional representation, telling the Liberal Democrats that this meant in the current Parliament. A commission was set up to launder this pledge. The ploy was to get Labour's old horse-whisperer, Lord Jenkins, now a Liberal Democrat peer, to offer enough to quieten his party until after the next election - an eternity to a politician - but not frighten the entire stable. The commission's supposed independence was too much for the Downing Street control freaks. There was frequent contact between the Jenkins commission and Downing Street, though none with the Conservatives. The report is a masterly work of political craftsmanship.
Lord Jenkins has done for Mr Blair what Lord Franks did for Margaret Thatcher over the Falklands. He has got him off the hook. He has tinkered with constituency elections: proferring the "nice guy" Alternative Vote system. He has also offered party controllers the bonbon of a mini-list of between 98 and 132 MPs, elected regionally by party affiliation, which means appointed from above. There is nothing wrong in alternative voting. It should force MPs into being marginally more "popular" and locally accountable. The mini-list proposal runs counter to that, its group of MPs being accountable only to their party bosses. Both proposals would greatly increase the number of Liberal Democrats in the Commons. They will therefore not happen. But Mr Blair is off his hook and the Liberal Democrat leader, Paddy Ashdown, is brilliantly humiliated. These manoeuvres are like state funerals and small wars, incidents that Britain handles so well Peter Mandelson should find a way of exporting them.

The core argument is a simple challenge, how to get most people most clearly behind the government of the day and keep them there until the next election.
Voting systems are the essential lubricant of democracy. There are a hundred ways of organising them, each ingrained in a nation's political culture, each with its pluses and minuses. The objective is simple. It is for the largest coherent body of political allegiance at each election to feel it has won the government of its choice. All else is subsidiary. Choosing MPs is subsidiary. The proportional representation of national parties is subsidiary. Being "fair" to smaller parties is subsidiary. The core argument is a simple challenge, how to get most people most clearly behind the government of the day, and keep them there until the next election.
Since all constitutions are creatures of history, the only reason for changing them is that they are broken. Every student of the British constitution has a favourite fracture: the monarchy, the House of Lords, over-centralisation, official secrecy. But I cannot see that Britain's voting system is one of them. One minority group, the Liberal Democrats, may feel cheated of a bigger share of power. That is a consequence of the constitution, but not necessarily a fault.
Over the half century since the last war, I would hazard that most changes of government have roughly reflected the ambitions and timidities of the British people. This was true in 1945 and again in 1951. It was true in 1964 and again in 1970. When the Tories were seen to falter, Labour tried in 1974 and failed in its turn. In 1979 the voters seemed to agree that enough was enough. Four times they hurled the Tories into the fray, to emancipate the political economy from the incubus of the past. Only after 18 years was a thoroughly purged Labour Party granted power.
This is a good track-record for any voting system. No government ever enjoyed a majority of popular votes, but every one was the largest party in the country (except marginally in 1951 and 1974). Parliament's electoral college, the House of Commons, converted each result into a decisive verdict. It enabled a government with minority popular support to behave for its term of office as if it had a majority. Ministers were made to fear the voters at the next general election, rather than a murky, shifting coalition of parliamentary clubs. The chief exceptions to this "majority rule", the last phases of the Callaghan and Major Governments, were so hamstrung and so awful that it beggars belief we could now think of making them more not less likely.

It enables a government with minority popular support to behave for its term of office as if it had a majority.
Lord Jenkins seems to regard increasing the number of Liberal Democrat MPs to match their popular vote as a good in itself. That is hardly an "independent" conclusion. It may make Parliament more representative, but only if Parliament rather than the constituency or the government is seen as the be-all and end-all of the constitution. That cannot make sense. According to independent analysis, Lord Jenkins's plan would mean that nine of the 14 postwar elections would have led to coalitions, with the Liberal Democrats in a position to decide who should form a government. They would be latter-day monarchs. John Major recently pointed out that every outgoing Prime Minister would first ask the Liberal Democrats if he needed to resign (as Edward Heath did in 1974). After half a century in the wilderness, Lord Jenkins and his friends would have won what they clearly see as their birthright, as ringmasters of British politics.
To regard this as enhancing democracy is ludicrous. It does the opposite. It denies the largest party at an election the support of Parliament for its mandated programme. It hands leverage over government not to the voters' "second preference" at the polls, the Opposition, but to their third or fourth preferences, whether centrists or extremists. That has always been seen as the failing of proportional representation systems abroad. Coalition politics are the politics not of accountability but of survival. What starts as a pursuit of fairness is soon the opposite. Ask a Dane, a New Zealander, an Israeli, an Italian or an Irishman.
All voting systems are unfair to losers, but they should not be unfair to winners. Lord Jenkins wants a system that would give minority parties a regular stranglehold on Parliament. In all likelihood such power would go to a party which, despite a number of recent opportunities, has not won even second place in the nation's affection. This is a parody of proportionality.

To regard this plot as enhancing democracy is ludicrous. It does the opposite.
There is not much about Britain that is democratic in tooth and claw. The constituency system is that. Roughly expressed, it forces the extremes to work within one or other major party "coalition", to secure any chance of parliamentary representation. It holds local independence as a potential check on overweaning party control. Labour's revolution shows how powerful an agent for reform is the need to win votes across a wide front in each constituency. Nationally, the first-past-the-post system limits the capacity of Oppositions to impede painful change, to which there are impediments enough already. Imagine if every one of Lady Thatcher's reforms had been subject to a Liberal veto.
Lord Jenkins is the Coalition Man of postwar politics. He famously prefers the winks, arm-steering and quiet chats of Westminster to the rough-and-tumble of the grass-roots. His regional "mini-lists", whether open or closed, are pure cronyism, kindergartens for the sorceror's apprentices. He appears relaxed that London party elites should extend their control over democratic participation in Britain. Perhaps he views the lack of such control as cause of his past tribulations. Perhaps he wants more power for his new-found friends against his old ones. Lord Jenkins is a master tactician. We need not agree with him, but must admire how he summons the waiter and orders a light supper of revenge.

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	The Jenkins report is a classic of what is emerging as the Blair style of government.	Lord Jenkins of Hillhead yesterday presented his electoral reform as a Renaissance prince might present his people with an heir. "Tis a small thing," he announced, "but perfectly formed. And 'tis honestly mine, delivered I assure you of my dear wife Expediency." The Jenkins report is a classic of what is emerging as the Blair style of government. With much ballyhoo, a radical expedition is dispatched against some perceived enemy, such as the House of Lords or waiting lists or bad trains. Much energy is expended and expectation aroused. Then the Government has second thoughts. "Er, um," it cries, and the expedition is frantically recalled. The story of the report so far is as follows. At the last general election Tony Blair's focus groups goaded him to pledge a referendum on proportional representation, telling the Liberal Democrats that this meant in the current Parliament. A commission was set up to launder this pledge. The ploy was to get Labour's old horse-whisperer, Lord Jenkins, now a Liberal Democrat peer, to offer enough to quieten his party until after the next election - an eternity to a politician - but not frighten the entire stable. The commission's supposed independence was too much for the Downing Street control freaks. There was frequent contact between the Jenkins commission and Downing Street, though none with the Conservatives. The report is a masterly work of political craftsmanship. Lord Jenkins has done for Mr Blair what Lord Franks did for Margaret Thatcher over the Falklands. He has got him off the hook. He has tinkered with constituency elections: proferring the "nice guy" Alternative Vote system. He has also offered party controllers the bonbon of a mini-list of between 98 and 132 MPs, elected regionally by party affiliation, which means appointed from above. There is nothing wrong in alternative voting. It should force MPs into being marginally more "popular" and locally accountable. The mini-list proposal runs counter to that, its group of MPs being accountable only to their party bosses. Both proposals would greatly increase the number of Liberal Democrats in the Commons. They will therefore not happen. But Mr Blair is off his hook and the Liberal Democrat leader, Paddy Ashdown, is brilliantly humiliated. These manoeuvres are like state funerals and small wars, incidents that Britain handles so well Peter Mandelson should find a way of exporting them.
	The core argument is a simple challenge, how to get most people most clearly behind the government of the day and keep them there until the next election.	Voting systems are the essential lubricant of democracy. There are a hundred ways of organising them, each ingrained in a nation's political culture, each with its pluses and minuses. The objective is simple. It is for the largest coherent body of political allegiance at each election to feel it has won the government of its choice. All else is subsidiary. Choosing MPs is subsidiary. The proportional representation of national parties is subsidiary. Being "fair" to smaller parties is subsidiary. The core argument is a simple challenge, how to get most people most clearly behind the government of the day, and keep them there until the next election. Since all constitutions are creatures of history, the only reason for changing them is that they are broken. Every student of the British constitution has a favourite fracture: the monarchy, the House of Lords, over-centralisation, official secrecy. But I cannot see that Britain's voting system is one of them. One minority group, the Liberal Democrats, may feel cheated of a bigger share of power. That is a consequence of the constitution, but not necessarily a fault. Over the half century since the last war, I would hazard that most changes of government have roughly reflected the ambitions and timidities of the British people. This was true in 1945 and again in 1951. It was true in 1964 and again in 1970. When the Tories were seen to falter, Labour tried in 1974 and failed in its turn. In 1979 the voters seemed to agree that enough was enough. Four times they hurled the Tories into the fray, to emancipate the political economy from the incubus of the past. Only after 18 years was a thoroughly purged Labour Party granted power. This is a good track-record for any voting system. No government ever enjoyed a majority of popular votes, but every one was the largest party in the country (except marginally in 1951 and 1974). Parliament's electoral college, the House of Commons, converted each result into a decisive verdict. It enabled a government with minority popular support to behave for its term of office as if it had a majority. Ministers were made to fear the voters at the next general election, rather than a murky, shifting coalition of parliamentary clubs. The chief exceptions to this "majority rule", the last phases of the Callaghan and Major Governments, were so hamstrung and so awful that it beggars belief we could now think of making them more not less likely.
	It enables a government with minority popular support to behave for its term of office as if it had a majority.	Lord Jenkins seems to regard increasing the number of Liberal Democrat MPs to match their popular vote as a good in itself. That is hardly an "independent" conclusion. It may make Parliament more representative, but only if Parliament rather than the constituency or the government is seen as the be-all and end-all of the constitution. That cannot make sense. According to independent analysis, Lord Jenkins's plan would mean that nine of the 14 postwar elections would have led to coalitions, with the Liberal Democrats in a position to decide who should form a government. They would be latter-day monarchs. John Major recently pointed out that every outgoing Prime Minister would first ask the Liberal Democrats if he needed to resign (as Edward Heath did in 1974). After half a century in the wilderness, Lord Jenkins and his friends would have won what they clearly see as their birthright, as ringmasters of British politics. To regard this as enhancing democracy is ludicrous. It does the opposite. It denies the largest party at an election the support of Parliament for its mandated programme. It hands leverage over government not to the voters' "second preference" at the polls, the Opposition, but to their third or fourth preferences, whether centrists or extremists. That has always been seen as the failing of proportional representation systems abroad. Coalition politics are the politics not of accountability but of survival. What starts as a pursuit of fairness is soon the opposite. Ask a Dane, a New Zealander, an Israeli, an Italian or an Irishman. All voting systems are unfair to losers, but they should not be unfair to winners. Lord Jenkins wants a system that would give minority parties a regular stranglehold on Parliament. In all likelihood such power would go to a party which, despite a number of recent opportunities, has not won even second place in the nation's affection. This is a parody of proportionality.
	To regard this plot as enhancing democracy is ludicrous. It does the opposite.	There is not much about Britain that is democratic in tooth and claw. The constituency system is that. Roughly expressed, it forces the extremes to work within one or other major party "coalition", to secure any chance of parliamentary representation. It holds local independence as a potential check on overweaning party control. Labour's revolution shows how powerful an agent for reform is the need to win votes across a wide front in each constituency. Nationally, the first-past-the-post system limits the capacity of Oppositions to impede painful change, to which there are impediments enough already. Imagine if every one of Lady Thatcher's reforms had been subject to a Liberal veto. Lord Jenkins is the Coalition Man of postwar politics. He famously prefers the winks, arm-steering and quiet chats of Westminster to the rough-and-tumble of the grass-roots. His regional "mini-lists", whether open or closed, are pure cronyism, kindergartens for the sorceror's apprentices. He appears relaxed that London party elites should extend their control over democratic participation in Britain. Perhaps he views the lack of such control as cause of his past tribulations. Perhaps he wants more power for his new-found friends against his old ones. Lord Jenkins is a master tactician. We need not agree with him, but must admire how he summons the waiter and orders a light supper of revenge.