broken promises and no saviours
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Finally, Christmas and politics rely for their existence on the optimistic premise that we can all get along with each other, and actually want to do so. During campaigns, as during the holidays, we rise to an occasion that we believe to be noble. Elections are cast as the shining moment in the endless cycle of democracy, just as Christmas is to the eternal cycle of the seasons. We boast to ourselves and each other that these two traditions represent us at our best. Then Boxing Day comes, and it's As you were, people.
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The news that there will be a federal election campaign over the Christmas holidays — and a mean, nasty, negative campaign to boot — has been greeted in some quarters as being in poor taste. The season of joy and light should not be despoiled by as lowly a thing as electoral politics, the critics charge. The plain fact is that if there were ever two things more closely matched than an election campaign and the Christmas season, they have yet to make themselves known. Someone once said that Santa Claus and the Devil are the same thing: One day you realize both are your parents. This is as good a place as any to start proving my hypothesis.
Christmas is, essentially, a broken promise between people with power (parents) and the wretched masses (children). Children are raised to believe that, by behaving well for a month or so, they can provoke a positive outcome at Christmastime in the form of reward/booty from Santa Claus. In short, they think their actions have a direct effect on the world around them; they develop a sense of control over the world that is similar to the belief, provably false, that voting in an election makes a difference.
As the child ages, he or she discovers that the good behaviour they exhibited in order to be rewarded with gifts in fact had no effect whatsoever on the number of gifts they received, and that it was a foregone conclusion that they would be rewarded to some degree. The adults (politicians) try to manipulate the behaviour of children (the wretched masses) through a base reward system disguised as something noble (altruism). All the power remains with the parents (government), in spite of their claim that the child (the masses) is the one in control.
Christmas wish lists and election campaign platforms also have a symmetry. You ask your child what he or she wants for Christmas, and the child produces a list of potential gifts. As a good parent not wanting to spoil the surprise or to dash the child's hopes, you accept the list wordlessly, and perhaps even post it in a public place such as on the fridge door. At no time do you negotiate it or suggest that they will get all or none of the gifts on the list. The promise that the wish list will be respected within the financial capacity of the parents is a given. This, of course, is similar to an election platform, with the exception that the politicians (adults), not the masses (children), write the wish list based on what they hope the masses (children) want as their reward for carrying out the pointless task of voting in their favour (making their bed every morning in December). In both cases, when Christmas Day comes — or, in campaign terms for the winning party, on Election Day — most of the items on the list will be ignored in favour of one or two that are as useful to the government (parents) as they are to the masses (children).
If the child has asked for an iPod, new pants, a book, a DVD and cellphone, parents will understand they must get either of the two big-ticket items (the iPod or the cellphone), but not necessarily both, in order to avoid a negative backlash. From the other listed items, they can pick one or two that suit them financially or put them in the best light as parents. A wise parent would choose from the above list the iPod, the pants (because most likely the child needs pants anyway, creating a savings), and the book (because it's "good for them"). A less wise parent, desperately seeking the child's approval — comparable to, say, a minority government position — might throw in the cellphone as well, leaving the parent with a debt he or she will come to regret.
Similarly, if a political party has promised new hospitals, gay marriage, lower taxes and more library books, once elected (Christmas Day), it can choose what it will actually deliver. Like the parent, however, it must choose wisely. A wise government would deliver from the above list lower taxes (big ticket) and more library books (inexpensive); or new hospitals (big ticket) and more library books. Only a very unwise government would deliver gay marriage and more library books, as neither of these are big-ticket items.
An equally unwise government would deliver the two costly and, in expense vs. revenue terms, contradictory items — new hospitals and lower taxes — at the same time. The fact that this happens regularly should be seen in the light of the large numbers of families that go into debt financing Christmas every year.
A few more similarities between Christmas and elections:
Christmas is, essentially, a broken promise between people with power (parents) and the wretched masses (children). Children are raised to believe that, by behaving well for a month or so, they can provoke a positive outcome at Christmastime in the form of reward/booty from Santa Claus. In short, they think their actions have a direct effect on the world around them; they develop a sense of control over the world that is similar to the belief, provably false, that voting in an election makes a difference.
As the child ages, he or she discovers that the good behaviour they exhibited in order to be rewarded with gifts in fact had no effect whatsoever on the number of gifts they received, and that it was a foregone conclusion that they would be rewarded to some degree. The adults (politicians) try to manipulate the behaviour of children (the wretched masses) through a base reward system disguised as something noble (altruism). All the power remains with the parents (government), in spite of their claim that the child (the masses) is the one in control.
Christmas wish lists and election campaign platforms also have a symmetry. You ask your child what he or she wants for Christmas, and the child produces a list of potential gifts. As a good parent not wanting to spoil the surprise or to dash the child's hopes, you accept the list wordlessly, and perhaps even post it in a public place such as on the fridge door. At no time do you negotiate it or suggest that they will get all or none of the gifts on the list. The promise that the wish list will be respected within the financial capacity of the parents is a given. This, of course, is similar to an election platform, with the exception that the politicians (adults), not the masses (children), write the wish list based on what they hope the masses (children) want as their reward for carrying out the pointless task of voting in their favour (making their bed every morning in December). In both cases, when Christmas Day comes — or, in campaign terms for the winning party, on Election Day — most of the items on the list will be ignored in favour of one or two that are as useful to the government (parents) as they are to the masses (children).
If the child has asked for an iPod, new pants, a book, a DVD and cellphone, parents will understand they must get either of the two big-ticket items (the iPod or the cellphone), but not necessarily both, in order to avoid a negative backlash. From the other listed items, they can pick one or two that suit them financially or put them in the best light as parents. A wise parent would choose from the above list the iPod, the pants (because most likely the child needs pants anyway, creating a savings), and the book (because it's "good for them"). A less wise parent, desperately seeking the child's approval — comparable to, say, a minority government position — might throw in the cellphone as well, leaving the parent with a debt he or she will come to regret.
Similarly, if a political party has promised new hospitals, gay marriage, lower taxes and more library books, once elected (Christmas Day), it can choose what it will actually deliver. Like the parent, however, it must choose wisely. A wise government would deliver from the above list lower taxes (big ticket) and more library books (inexpensive); or new hospitals (big ticket) and more library books. Only a very unwise government would deliver gay marriage and more library books, as neither of these are big-ticket items.
An equally unwise government would deliver the two costly and, in expense vs. revenue terms, contradictory items — new hospitals and lower taxes — at the same time. The fact that this happens regularly should be seen in the light of the large numbers of families that go into debt financing Christmas every year.
A few more similarities between Christmas and elections:
- Both were once celebrated as the birth of a saviour (less of a theme today).
- In both instances, people intrude on us. Whether it is Stephen Harper, Peter Mansbridge or distant cousins from another province, Christmas and campaigns bring us into contact with people we'd rather avoid.
- Office Christmas parties make strange bedfellows, just as politics does.
- Both produce bad television. What is worse — watching Henry Winkler as the miserly "Benedict Slade" in An American Christmas Carol or watching Paul Martin debate Stephen Harper while Jack Layton strains to get a sentence in?
Finally, Christmas and politics rely for their existence on the optimistic premise that we can all get along with each other, and actually want to do so. During campaigns, as during the holidays, we rise to an occasion that we believe to be noble. Elections are cast as the shining moment in the endless cycle of democracy, just as Christmas is to the eternal cycle of the seasons. We boast to ourselves and each other that these two traditions represent us at our best. Then Boxing Day comes, and it's As you were, people.
— PETER SCOWEN, Toronto Star (2005/12/04)
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