Ballot box secrecy is good for democracy – and true love

Iwitnessed a conversation the other day, between a little girl and her grandmother, that felt like the last of its kind. “Granny,” said the girl, “how did you vote on Brexit?” “That,” said the grandmother kindly, “is a rather rude question. You must never ask anybody how they voted. It’s private.”

So it is! I had almost forgotten – along with the rest of the country. The longstanding taboo against grilling other people about their voting habits has been shattered by Brexit. These days, you can barely ask someone to pass the salt without being expected to state your position on Europe. That’s if you haven’t already volunteered the information to put yourself above suspicion. (“As a Remainer, might I please have the salt?”)

Still, one would hope to at least get through a first date without having to produce your ballot paper. No such luck. A team of academics has just produced a list of questions that would-be lovers should ask each other to test compatibility. Top of the list is: “How did you vote on Brexit?”

Dr Eric Robson, a psychologist at the University of Liverpool, says it is important to establish a partner’s voting record early on, because couples with opposing political views are less likely to stick together. “This is most prominent among the younger generations, with reports showing 22 per cent of millennial couples break up over political differences,” he says.

That is indeed a troubling statistic – though not quite for the reason Dr Robson suggests. What it demonstrates is the growing, corrosive power of political tribalism. And what we should learn from it is to be less upfront about our voting habits, not more.

The old prohibition on discussing the secrets of the ballot box existed for good reason. It prevented people from trying to bully each

other into voting a particular way. More broadly, it allowed new acquaintances to get to know each other without making crude judgments based on party loyalty. It left the way clear for all the other things that can bring humans together – jokes, gossip, shared experiences, sexy pheromones.

Although married couples have always ended up with many of the same opinions, they used to do so through a process of evolution. Now, they expect to start off in perfect accord. In 1973, the level of political agreement among American newlyweds was 54 per cent. By 2014, it had risen to 74 per cent. Perhaps one day, if everyone follows Dr Robson’s advice, it will reach 100 per cent. Nobody will ever divorce, but romance – along with liberal democracy – will be dead.

Secrecy isn’t always a virtue, of course. Internet anonymity is one of the curses of the modern age. It has created a form of public discourse twisted by pomposity and spite. It has also, perversely, done grave damage to free speech. The right to speak your mind used to be counterbalanced by an expectation of good manners. Internet anonymity, which encourages us to be far nastier than we would be in person, has put the balance out of whack.

In Austria, politicians are introducing modest curbs on internet anonymity, requiring users to sign into big websites such as Twitter with their real details. Critics have described this as an attack on freedom. But we don’t have the right to anonymity in the real world. Why should we expect – or meekly endure – it on the internet? follow Jemima Lewis on Twitter @gemimsy; read more at telegraph.co.uk/opinion