Can the centre ever win a very online culture war?

September 26, 1960, changed politics forever. That evening, in the hotly anticipated presidential debate, the relatively unknown Senator John Kennedy squared off against Vice President Richard Nixon. Those listening on the radio thought that Nixon had won. But this was the first time a presidential debate was televised – and by 1960, 88 per cent of Americans had a TV, compared to just 10 per cent a decade before. Unlike the radio listeners, the millions who watched on TV thought the fresh-faced Kennedy had trounced the sweaty, pallid Nixon. By the next morning, Kennedy was a star – and of course he went on to win the election.

From that point on, being ‘telegenic’ was regarded as necessary for any political hopeful. Three decades later Neil Postman wrote that, although the constitution doesn’t forbid it, in the television age, overweight and bald people are essentially disbarred from becoming president. The purpose of the story is to say that the communication technologies that dominate our culture also shape our politics.

Whenever I speak with centrist political types, I am nearly always asked the same question. It’s some variant of the following: how can a centrist party win an online culture war?

Underneath the question is an assumption: that the political extremities – especially, but not only, the radical right – are somehow more attuned social media culture. They are more emotional, and hence their messages are more ‘viral’. They have a looser acquaintance with the boring, complex truth, and thus can trade more easily on outrage. Centrist types who pride themselves on being ‘balanced’ and ‘policy focused’ and ‘sensible’ appear weak and timid and altogether out of synch with modern culture.

I’m not sure that’s totally correct, by the way, but there is definitely some truth to it.

So this is my 5,000 word answer to that question. It’s not advice to anyone in particular: – that’s not my business. They are just the rules of the game as I understand them, and relevant to anyone who works in politics. I am only directing this essay to ‘the centrists’ since they ask me the most.

(Quick note: I realise ‘centrist’ is quite a meaningless term, especially at the moment. Take it as shorthand to mean what were once mainstream centre-left and centre-right parties which seem to be struggling all over the world. That includes both the current Labour party and the US Democrat party.)

Well-paid media advisers have said for years that politicians need to crack social media. By that they usually means creating short, emotive, shareable content. This is a highly superficial view on the problem, because it fails to see that the change is more profound.

Our media, and therefore our political culture, is now defined by the rapid flow of dissonant ideas and arguments without obvious order or sense of progression; by anecdote; by total information; by a doom-scroll-induced paranoia, and by sensory overload. We are bobbing around like corks in a stormy sea. To master political communications under these circumstances takes a lot more than drinking a pint in a high-vis jacket and hoping it goes viral.

We demand action! Any old action will do.

Several years ago the novelist Umberto Eco, noting like George Orwell how loose the word fascism had become, wrote that the ideology is like a virus that changes to reflect the contours of the society in which it exists. Mussolini’s version was quite different from Franco’s, for example. But wherever it went, claimed Eco, certain characteristics would usually be found. Hatred of the other, a cult of tradition, and racial purity nearly always feature, of course. But, he argued, there was also a fascist style of politics distinct from its content: one which sanctifies action without thought, prizes tribal loyalty, and encourages a wild and anxious rage that The Great Leader can then direct and exploit.

Does it not all feel familiar? Speed, loyalty and rage are the defining features of modern media. But it’s not the great leaders who are the driving force – it is now all of us users. The logic of modern media, devoid of specific ideology, is driving each of us to adopt that fascist style, and in turn, find comfort in any leader that mirrors it back to us.

I’m most interested here in the idea of action, because this is the simplest for the modern politician to understand. Fascists have always worshipped action for action’s sake, because to think is to emasculate oneself with doubt, critical analysis, and reasonableness. “Action being beautiful in itself,” explains Eco, “it must be taken before, or without, any previous reflection”.

It would be difficult to write a better definition of a mad rampaging Twitter mob than this. And by that I include the multitudes that ‘call people out’ and think they are the good guys. I suspect the majority of people who shark around righteously demanding people be fired or cancelled rarely give much thought to the matter before their pronouncements. Absolute, instantaneous, and without reflection.

We are secretly coming to admire – demand, in fact – politicians that move quick and do something. Anything! It means they are cutting through the foggy confusion and draining noise that surrounds us. Donald Trump intuitively understands this. This is why his first few weeks were a blur of Executive Orders. They were generally popular too, not because of the content per se, but because he was a man of immediate action. If anything, I suspect the madder the Order, the more popular they were. Not even social mores or common sense or expert advice can get in the way of the man of action!

There is little doubt that a malaise now haunts many democracies: that nothing serious or meaningful can ever really change. Small boats can’t be stopped. Railways can’t be built. Spending can’t be cut. Bills can’t be reduced. Immigration can’t be managed. Prisons can’t be reformed. Fraud can’t be tackled. Bins can’t be collected and potholes can’t be filled. Even though almost every election and opinion poll tells politicians that these are the things people generally want, and we pay vast amounts of tax to pay for it all.