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Before Christmas, I decided I really ought to get involved in campaigning for a “yes” vote in May’s referendum on the alternative vote. Then I got a contract which kept me away from London during the week, and whilst I could have campaigned where I was staying, or spent my weekends campaigning at home, strangely enough that wasn’t what I chose to do.
But my contract over, my conscience got the better of me and so this week saw me campaigning. I doubt it’ll make any difference – seriously – but if the noes have it and I hadn’t tried, I’d have felt guilty, so really this is pure self-interest.
On Thursday I spent a couple of hours in a room of the Pentonville Road with a mobile phone, working my way down a list of postal voters. I had a script in front of me, but I didn’t find I really needed it, since no one seemed particularly keen to engage in conversation. I made about thirty or forty calls, covering 90 names – three sheets. Mostly I got message services, so I read out the script; it went something like this:
When you say "Yes to Fairer Votes" often enough, it sounds remarkably like "rastafari". At least it does to me!
I spoke to three people who said they had already voted yes, more who said they’d voted no, and more still who really weren’t interested and, despite my trying to involve them in conversation, weren’t having any of it. Three people hung up on me (which, being honest, is what I generally do when I get cold-called). I had one conversation with someone who said he didn’t have a vote who I believed did have a vote since he was on the voters’ register. (He was right, I was wrong: apparently overseas residents can vote in local elections but not referenda. His name was an error in our list. I probably raised his expectations and he was going to vote yes, so I probably really pissed him off. I called back to apologise and say he was right. I wasn’t impressed with the list after that.)
I could hear other volunteers around me having long discussions, but I couldn’t work out how they were able to engage people who weren’t interested. One volunteer kept having discussions with people who had already voted no. This seemed such a futile exercise that I was baffled: such a waste of energy – the best outcome was frankly a polite “thank you for your time” and quickly move onto the next number.
Most of the people I spoke to were pensioners or people looking after kids. The former felt they were too old to change a system they had known all their lives – though I heard a wonderful story of a door-to-door campaigner meeting a 107 year old woman who was voting yes because she could remember when women didn’t have the vote, and it was important to be able to change our democracy. The latter didn’t really have time to talk at all.
The six or seven volunteers around the table were either young – students, I’d guess – or my age. Maybe those in between didn’t have the time or energy to campaign. There was a woman beside in her mid-20s; her voice was vaguely familiar although somewhat indistinguishable – a very middle-England voice – and I didn’t recognise her face. I then heard her introduce herself on the phone: it was the comedian Josie Long. She was very friendly and chatty – in between making calls, the phonebank was quite a social place to be, with lots of chatter. Long’s iphone had a completely shattered screen, held together by a plastic cover – which I guess made it just a phone. When all of us were on calls, the volume was loud; it was hard to hear. Josie kept leaving the room to conduct her calls.
Then yesterday, joined seven or eight volunteers and helped distribute leaflets outside Seven Sisters tube station for two hours. It was a hot, sunny day.
It was a match day, with Spurs’ supporters streaming from the tube. I quickly realised that none of the supporters were the slightest bit interested in taking a leaflet: it was clearly not worth the effort. They were very easy to spot: groups of mostly young men in casual clothes, lots wearing shorts; a few more affluently dressed, particularly if there were women in their party. They were mostly looking for pubs (this was three or four hours before the match – they will have been well cut by kick off), and I was surprised how many had to ask us where the pubs were (maybe they were the West Brom fans – there were a lot of Spurs shirts, but I didn’t see one recognisable West Brom fan: perhaps they had toned down their allegiance as they were away from home).
I couldn’t help try to judge who was more likely to take a leaflet or engage in conversation as I saw them approach. I tried to be unbiased – old or young, black, brown or white (it is a very mixed area), men or women. Many people said they weren’t interested because they were just visiting; strange when that came from an English accent, the referendum being held through Britain – though easier to take from a foreigner. (But being an area with a high proportion of immigrants, many may well have had votes.)
I had one in-depth discussion, with a woman who said she wasn’t going to vote but she liked Simon Hughes. He is in favour of a yes vote, I explained. Then she said she was worried about the BNP getting in. The BNP are in favour of a no vote, I told her, explaining how AV would be unlikely to result in smaller parties getting control. She then said she was worried about the spread of immorality in Britain, so I explained that AV would make MPs more accountable and probably result in less of a culture of sleaze. All governments are the same, she said, she would have to trust in Jesus to tell her which way to vote: we should have the bible in Parliament, the government shouldn’t legalise homosexuality, it was Adam and Eve and not Adam and Steve. I was baffled: I didn’t tell her that I believed Simon Hughes was gay [I would have been wrong, too, at least according to Wikipedia - and his sexuality is his own affair, so to speak!]; maybe she had more in common with the BNP than she might admit. She took a leaflet anyway; maybe it will inform her discussions with Jesus about how to vote.
It turned out she was the advanced party of the evangelists who regularly gather outside the tube station. A very friendly woman stood near me as she thrust her leaflets about God at Spurs’ fans leaving the station. She didn’t get many of them taking her literature, but overall their mixture of free food and drinks and rather soulful singing through a sound system seemed to do a better job than our purple leaflets.
There was something rather amateurish about the overall approach. As well as the standard leaflets, the people running the stall had run up their own – because they didn’t like the ones they had been given centrally. Their own efforts didn’t look right – no purple, different logos. There seemed no real tactics other than give leaflets to as many people as possible – no view of the best way to do it (no script!), the best places to stand (I had my best impact towards a street corner, but someone else took my patch when I ran out of leaflets, so I hung near the steps down into the tube, avoiding the Spurs’ fans).
I don’t think I changed anyone’s mind on either day. I hope that I may have prompted some people to vote who may not have done, and some of those will vote yes. Perhaps my fellow volunteers may have been more successful.
I plan to do another shift on the phones, and whilst I think it a complete waste of time, to help out on referendum day. If only to assuage my guilt.
But my contract over, my conscience got the better of me and so this week saw me campaigning. I doubt it’ll make any difference – seriously – but if the noes have it and I hadn’t tried, I’d have felt guilty, so really this is pure self-interest.
On Thursday I spent a couple of hours in a room of the Pentonville Road with a mobile phone, working my way down a list of postal voters. I had a script in front of me, but I didn’t find I really needed it, since no one seemed particularly keen to engage in conversation. I made about thirty or forty calls, covering 90 names – three sheets. Mostly I got message services, so I read out the script; it went something like this:
Hello, my name is Patrick and I’m a volunteer for Yes to Fairer Votes. We’re campaigning for a yes vote in the referendum on May 5th because this is the only way to change our voting system, make MPs work harder for their local communities and reduce the opportunities for scandals like the MPs’ expenses scandal. You should receive postal vote in the next few days. We hope you will consider voting yes on May 5th. Thank you.
When you say "Yes to Fairer Votes" often enough, it sounds remarkably like "rastafari". At least it does to me!
I spoke to three people who said they had already voted yes, more who said they’d voted no, and more still who really weren’t interested and, despite my trying to involve them in conversation, weren’t having any of it. Three people hung up on me (which, being honest, is what I generally do when I get cold-called). I had one conversation with someone who said he didn’t have a vote who I believed did have a vote since he was on the voters’ register. (He was right, I was wrong: apparently overseas residents can vote in local elections but not referenda. His name was an error in our list. I probably raised his expectations and he was going to vote yes, so I probably really pissed him off. I called back to apologise and say he was right. I wasn’t impressed with the list after that.)
I could hear other volunteers around me having long discussions, but I couldn’t work out how they were able to engage people who weren’t interested. One volunteer kept having discussions with people who had already voted no. This seemed such a futile exercise that I was baffled: such a waste of energy – the best outcome was frankly a polite “thank you for your time” and quickly move onto the next number.
Most of the people I spoke to were pensioners or people looking after kids. The former felt they were too old to change a system they had known all their lives – though I heard a wonderful story of a door-to-door campaigner meeting a 107 year old woman who was voting yes because she could remember when women didn’t have the vote, and it was important to be able to change our democracy. The latter didn’t really have time to talk at all.
The six or seven volunteers around the table were either young – students, I’d guess – or my age. Maybe those in between didn’t have the time or energy to campaign. There was a woman beside in her mid-20s; her voice was vaguely familiar although somewhat indistinguishable – a very middle-England voice – and I didn’t recognise her face. I then heard her introduce herself on the phone: it was the comedian Josie Long. She was very friendly and chatty – in between making calls, the phonebank was quite a social place to be, with lots of chatter. Long’s iphone had a completely shattered screen, held together by a plastic cover – which I guess made it just a phone. When all of us were on calls, the volume was loud; it was hard to hear. Josie kept leaving the room to conduct her calls.
Then yesterday, joined seven or eight volunteers and helped distribute leaflets outside Seven Sisters tube station for two hours. It was a hot, sunny day.
It was a match day, with Spurs’ supporters streaming from the tube. I quickly realised that none of the supporters were the slightest bit interested in taking a leaflet: it was clearly not worth the effort. They were very easy to spot: groups of mostly young men in casual clothes, lots wearing shorts; a few more affluently dressed, particularly if there were women in their party. They were mostly looking for pubs (this was three or four hours before the match – they will have been well cut by kick off), and I was surprised how many had to ask us where the pubs were (maybe they were the West Brom fans – there were a lot of Spurs shirts, but I didn’t see one recognisable West Brom fan: perhaps they had toned down their allegiance as they were away from home).
I couldn’t help try to judge who was more likely to take a leaflet or engage in conversation as I saw them approach. I tried to be unbiased – old or young, black, brown or white (it is a very mixed area), men or women. Many people said they weren’t interested because they were just visiting; strange when that came from an English accent, the referendum being held through Britain – though easier to take from a foreigner. (But being an area with a high proportion of immigrants, many may well have had votes.)
I had one in-depth discussion, with a woman who said she wasn’t going to vote but she liked Simon Hughes. He is in favour of a yes vote, I explained. Then she said she was worried about the BNP getting in. The BNP are in favour of a no vote, I told her, explaining how AV would be unlikely to result in smaller parties getting control. She then said she was worried about the spread of immorality in Britain, so I explained that AV would make MPs more accountable and probably result in less of a culture of sleaze. All governments are the same, she said, she would have to trust in Jesus to tell her which way to vote: we should have the bible in Parliament, the government shouldn’t legalise homosexuality, it was Adam and Eve and not Adam and Steve. I was baffled: I didn’t tell her that I believed Simon Hughes was gay [I would have been wrong, too, at least according to Wikipedia - and his sexuality is his own affair, so to speak!]; maybe she had more in common with the BNP than she might admit. She took a leaflet anyway; maybe it will inform her discussions with Jesus about how to vote.
It turned out she was the advanced party of the evangelists who regularly gather outside the tube station. A very friendly woman stood near me as she thrust her leaflets about God at Spurs’ fans leaving the station. She didn’t get many of them taking her literature, but overall their mixture of free food and drinks and rather soulful singing through a sound system seemed to do a better job than our purple leaflets.
There was something rather amateurish about the overall approach. As well as the standard leaflets, the people running the stall had run up their own – because they didn’t like the ones they had been given centrally. Their own efforts didn’t look right – no purple, different logos. There seemed no real tactics other than give leaflets to as many people as possible – no view of the best way to do it (no script!), the best places to stand (I had my best impact towards a street corner, but someone else took my patch when I ran out of leaflets, so I hung near the steps down into the tube, avoiding the Spurs’ fans).
I don’t think I changed anyone’s mind on either day. I hope that I may have prompted some people to vote who may not have done, and some of those will vote yes. Perhaps my fellow volunteers may have been more successful.
I plan to do another shift on the phones, and whilst I think it a complete waste of time, to help out on referendum day. If only to assuage my guilt.