Politicians must use power of speech more carefully

IT’S harder to be a politician today than perhaps any other point in history.

At the same time, political leaders have fewer tools at their disposal to address the problems of the world than they’ve ever had.

Climate change, the rise of China and the pandemic are just three of a multitude of urgent issues requiring global solutions that domestic politicians lack the power to address.

Domestic politics is less relevant than ever despite the resurgence of nationalism, in its many forms.

Whether we take a leader seriously or not no longer depends on their record in government – we care more about what they say and how they say it.

In times of political upheaval and sweeping social change our leaders (keen to appear more in command of events than they really are) still have one trick up their sleeves where exerting political influence is concerned – good old-fashioned rhetoric.

Hammering a simple message home consistently can create the rather false impression they are skilfully wresting us from the jaws of certain chaos and decisively seizing the agenda in our interests.

What they choose to emphasise says a lot about them.

If the response to Covid-19 has taught us anything, it’s that we are suckers for their slogans. “Stay Alert, Stay Home, Save Lives”, “We’re all in this together” – nothing regiments the public mind quite like the mind-numbing repetition of an offensively straightforward but effective call to action.

In a matter of months, political rhetoric around the threat of coronavirus has completely shifted the public mood in a few important areas – demonstrating the power that politicians of waning relevance still retain where setting society’s general tone is concerned.

At the onset of lockdown, the UK Government (hardly famed for its commitment to social solidarity), all but reversed the polarity of the bitter public mood previously created by the mean-spirited nature of Brexit.

In the face of coronavirus, we were commanded, encouraged and inspired, not to prioritise our own petty, individual desires and prejudices but to think of our neighbours. To help the vulnerable. And to practise love and compassion.

A tidal wave of goodwill was unleashed as a result. Over one million volunteers signed up to support the hardest hit. Low-paid, undervalued workers were deemed “essential” and applauded.

It was a national moment to behold, made possible because political leaders made a very conscious effort to set a certain kind of tone.

The messages our leaders have been reiterating every day for months have profoundly altered our individual and collective perceptions of everything from our physical proximity to others in public spaces to the mental conceptions we each now hold of our microscopic enemy.

We have, in a sense, been re-educated about what it means to live in a society.

We see ourselves and the world through new lenses – that is the power of rhetoric. Imagine every week our leaders reminded us that many of the people begging on the street are victims of historical abuse?

That addiction is an illness of mind and body and not a character defect. That work no longer guarantees a path out of poverty.

Or, God forbid, that most people trying to enter the UK illegally are doing so because they are desperate?

There is, after all, a great deal of evidence to support all four of these assertions. So much evidence that I find it rather odd that our political leaders choose not to make special emphasis of these facts more often.

Do they only “follow the science” when it suits them? I believe that’s a rhetorical question.