All posts by James Graham

George McFly from Back to the Future, with a "kick me" sign on his back.

“Ballots, butts and Battlestar Galactica” – ten years on from the AV referendum

Tomorrow marks the 10th anniversary of the AV referendum, and I felt I should mark the date somehow. For me, the AV referendum was the event that finally broke me, in terms of my political career. It’s possible that if I hadn’t had such an awful experience being involved in Yes to Fairer Votes I would have burned out and quit anyway, but it wasn’t so much the straw that broke the camel’s back as it was the wrecking ball.

It’s a date which has been largely ignored, save for a single a documentary on Radio 4’s Archive series by Chris Mason. You can read my own contemporary account of what happened in my article for Liberator Magazine (issue 346) and my follow up review of Don’t Take No For An Answer by Ken Ritchie and Lewis Baston. I don’t especially recognise the person who wrote those articles; my life is very different now. After quitting the Lib Dems in 2012 and taking voluntary redundancy from Unlock Democracy in 2013, I had a breakdown, went through a period of long term depression and finally found myself in my current career, selling tabletop games in my local game shop. I’ve occasionally dipped a toe back into politics and campaigning since, but it hasn’t stuck and, if anything, merely served to remind me that I’m better off out of it.

But I do have a few observations about the whole affair, which I thought I would try to summarise here.

1. I should never have been anywhere near the campaign

Back in February 2010, at a time when I was writing regular pieces for the Guardian’s website, I wrote the following:

Very few people who think AV would be an improvement are actually passionate about it, so who will fight the campaign for a “yes” vote? 

It’s a good article and, unlike a number of the articles I wrote afterwards attempting to roll my position back, I stand by it. Nick Clegg famously described AV as “a miserable little compromise” and on this, I Agree With Nick. The problem was, I found myself shortly thereafter tasked with the job of helping to actually win a referendum campaign for AV.

One thing that quickly became apparent, as mentioned by Clegg in the Mason broadcast, was that none of the keen proponents for AV, particularly some of the loudest voices within Labour, were anywhere to be seen when the referendum kicked off. The Electoral Reform Society, which had done much to lay out the groundwork for persuading Labour to back the adoption of AV as a manifesto promise in 2010, found itself in the midst of a power struggle when the director at the time, Ken Ritchie, was in the process of being eased out of the organisation. The only people willing to spend the best part of a year working long, thankless hours in an attempt to achieve this minor reform, were people who would have preferred something more. Again in the Mason program, Nick Tyrone is very keen to put the boot in here and dismiss these activists as “comic con types” (Tyrone appears to think he’s living in an early 80s teen sex comedy in which he gets to be a jock laughing at the nerds, about which more later), but these were literally the only people willing to do the work, more often than not unpaid.

We knew this was a strategic problem for the campaign. The question therefore remains: why did the Lib Dems make a referendum on AV a key sticking point in the coalition negotiations? You could be forgiven for thinking, based on Clegg’s interview in the Mason programme, that he viewed it as a way of fobbing off the activists so he could get on with the Important Work of governing with the Conservatives, and set us up to fail. You will have to make your own mind up about that. Nevertheless, as he acknowledges, it would go on to poison the coalition well and undermine his work subsequently.

Either way, it wasn’t a campaign that I should have been involved with. It’s not that feel I screwed up the job before me as the social media manager, just that I contributed to the accusation that the Yes to Fairer Votes campaign was dominated by hypocrites who didn’t want AV either.

My personal problem was that in order to not be involved, I would have had to quit my job at Unlock Democracy. Alternatively, if Unlock Democracy had taken the brave decision to stand by and let the other organisations get on with it, it would have almost certainly lead to it losing its funding from the Joseph Rowntree Reform Trust (a point which had been made to us obliquely on more than one occasion). In the event, by 2013, JRRT chose to withdraw funding and as a result I was made refundant. Hindsight is a beautiful thing, but if I’d had my time again, I sorely wish I had leapt before I was effectively pushed out.

2. No-one ever talked to me about the EU referendum

It’s hard to disagree with Chris Mason’s opinion that this “forgotten referendum” was a dress rehearsal for what was to come in the form of the EU referendum five years later. What I found interesting was quite how quickly it was forgotten. In the immediate aftermath, I remember there being a lot of talk about political reformers and politicians needing to learn the lessons from the disastrous campaign so as to never repeat the same mistakes. I remember the ERS commissioning a group of academics to produce a report which I was interviewed for, although I’ve never seen this report.

It was genuinely surprising to me that in the run up to the EU referendum, no-one from the Remain campaign ever approached me about my thoughts on what they should and should not do. Perhaps this is ego talking, but I’m not aware of anyone in the campaign being approached.

It seemed remarkable to me that no-one seemed to think they had anything to learn from us. But then, if I was a Cameron-supporting, pro-Remain Tory who had been on the No to AV side and was aware of what a brutally effective campaign that had been, I would have moved the earth to avoid holding a second national referendum in the first place. It isn’t just the Lib Dems who were guilty of hubris.

3. It was Lord Sharkey’s campaign

I’m not writing this to especially condemn the man – there has been far too much water under the bridge since – but it seems very weird to me the degree to which Lord Sharkey‘s role in the campaign has been downplayed and even airbrushed out of history. He isn’t mentioned once in the Chris Mason programme, not even in a side note that No to AV Matthew Elliot’s analogue in the Yes to Fairer Votes campaign had declined to be interviewed. And yet it was my recollection that every single significant appointment or campaign decision had been made by him. No one has ever challenged this as far as I know. He’s just been essentially scrubbed from the record.

This was very much at his request. Right from the earliest stage I recall him saying that he had two conditions: that he be in absolute control, and that his name be kept out of everything. But ten years on, it is hard to see why this omerta is still being respected by all involved. It isn’t as if he is a private figure; he’s a member of the UK legislature. As far as I’m aware, he remains the honorary treasurer of the Hansard Society.

The fact is, while I think the campaign was pretty doomed from the start, it remains my belief that he made a number of decisions that only served to make the situation worse. But more than anything else, what I found hardest to take was his complete disappearance after the referendum had concluded. I guess I’ve never encountered a situation where a leadership figure has refused to be held to account either in public or in private to such an extent before.

4. Matthew Elliot is an evil genius

While Matthew Elliot’s role as director of No to AV is less of a secret, I feel that his contribution to the political norms we now live under has been massively understated. The Chris Mason documentary does a lot to correct this record, particularly with regard to his contribution to the Vote Leave campaign, but in general he is allowed to continue unmolested in his career.

Contrast that to Dominic Cummings. My namesake’s political drama Brexit: the Uncivil War, sought to portray Cummings as the sole genius behind Vote Leave, with Elliot as something of a witless stooge going along with Cummings’ schemes. This was to entirely ignore Elliot as the person behind the No campaign of the North East Assembly referendum in 2004 as well as the director of the Taxpayer’s Alliance; he is one of the architects of that style of campaigning and he has honed his skills over many years.

It’s no great surprise that Cummings has since emerged as a bumptious buffoon, incapable of surviving in government, and one whose sole belief – in himself – has proven to be woefully inadequate. I suspect that Elliot likes it this way, and is perfectly happy for Cummings to steal the limelight and brickbats while he gets on with actually achieving things (which in his case is currently destroying the British state from the inside out).

While Elliot hasn’t managed to keep himself out of the headlines to quite the same extent as Lord Sharkey, his ability to evade scrutiny is nothing less than remarkable. He deserves credit as one of the key figures behind this new doctrine of politics, that being that it should be entirely shameless and regard the truth and honourable conduct as inconveniences to be shed at the drop of the hat. I hope posterity won’t forget him in the way that contemporary media frequently does.

5. Nick Tyrone was the biggest winner of Yes to Fairer Votes

My career weirdly mirrors Nick Tyrone’s. While the AV referendum was the finishing of my political career, it was the making of his. He went from an obscure film producer with almost no political or campaigning background who just happened to be the husband of Nick Clegg’s Director of Policy, to the head of the Radix think tank. He fell out with the Lib Dems pretty quickly post-2015 as the party sought to distance itself from the “coalicious” period and these days has very much positioned himself in the same right wing circles as, well, Matthew Elliot.

I found his contribution to the Chris Mason piece interesting. There’s a point in which he talks about the campaign’s “plans” to buy a number of inflatable bottoms and invite members of the public around the country to kick them so as to “kick their MP up the behind”. It’s an old story, presumably true, and emerged soon after the campaign had concluded. But Tyrone must know that for all its mistakes, it was never seriously considered by the campaign as an option; rather it was a suggestion by the increasingly hapless advertising agency that had been hired by the campaign (Lord Sharkey, an alum of Saatchi & Saatchi, insisted that traditional advertising would win us the campaign). Tyrone must know that this was never seriously considered, let alone implemented in any way.

His loathing for the campaign is pretty obvious, and his ire seems particularly focused on the “electoral reform geeks” who dominated it (despite this, and his personal antipathy towards electoral reform, his first job following his work on the campaign was for the Electoral Reform Society). There’s a weird story he tells on his own blog about how, after the referendum campaign, he came across a group of campaigners playing a game based on Battlestar Galactica. He was so outraged about this that by his own admission he went around telling everyone who would listen about its, quote, “insidiousness,” presumably as some kind of proof of how inept the pro-AV activists were.

I know what he’s referring to, as the game was hosted by me (after work hours, regardless of how much he insists otherwise). Indeed, the Battlestar Galactica board game is beloved by many and is still one that I play from time to time.

It’s a fascinating insight to me, because it shows quite how far apart we are. What he calls insidious, I regard as a pretty innocuous attempt by a group of colleagues to let off some steam after a pretty awful few months. But it also highlights quite how inept his attempts at damaging us was; as he acknowledges himself eventually the story grew in the telling until the legend became that Clegg himself had been involved. No-one cared that a bunch of staffers had been minding their own business enjoying themselves one evening; it just became another stick to beat the deputy prime minister with.

I’ve obviously managed to turn my geeky gamer interests into a career, which I’m sure Tyrone would regard with contempt and confirmation of all his prejudices if he found out. All I can say to this is, that as far as most members of the public are concerned, Tyrone’s past decade of greasy pole climbing is likely to be regarded as far more “insidious” than my own career change in that time. It is remarkable to me that someone who is now paid to advise politicians on what they should think and do should have this blind spot.

In Conclusion

If this feels like I’m blaming others for my misfortune, believe me: no-one feels more responsible for how the AV referendum went down, or has wracked their brains over what I could have personally done better more than me. If I didn’t feel responsible, and inadequate, my political career would not have imploded the way it did.

Rather, for me, the AV referendum marks the changing of an era in politics, in which the shameless populist style of campaigning that Matthew Elliot and the like took hold, and people like me found they lacked the temperament even to stick around. I have enormous respect for people on the moderate left who continue to persevere for a more principled, open and honest politics but the AV referendum made it clear that I lacked both the patience and wisdom to continue under this current climate.

I don’t really know what the way forward is. The genius of Matthew Elliot’s style of campaigning is that while it is unfair and uncivilised the worst response to overly focus on that fact. At some point, some savant in political ju jitsu will hopefully be able to somehow find a way to counter that. In the meantime, the public’s response seems to simply be to switch off entirely and give the most corrupt government in history a free pass.

Is there anything to learn from the AV referendum? Maybe not; or at least, those lessons needed to be learned before the EU referendum. But we should at least remember it as the time that something fundamentally broke in British politics. Who knows? Maybe our culture war loving government, in asserting that history can only be remembered by public statuary, will commission a bronze politician’s bottom for people to kick in Trafalgar Square?

Judge Dredd Snapshots: War Games (prog 854)

Dredd to control request back-up…

We’ve got a nest of Sino-Cit Judges right here in Mega-City!

Judge Dredd

Date: 25 September 1993

Script: Mark Millar; Artist: Paul Marshall; Letters: Tom Frame

Summary

Judge Dredd finds himself under attack; first by Sino-Cit Judges, then Sov Judges and then finally zombie judges. It turns out that he is part of an experiment. Chief Judge McGruder and SJS Judge Stone explain that he has been given an experimental drug to heighten aggression. The people he attacked and killed are ordinary citizens who had been brought in for minor offenses, who they unleashed the drugged up Dredd onto as part of the experiment. McGruder explains that Psi Division predicts a major crisis to happen in approximately 18 months and that they need judges to “toughen up”.

Commentary

I’m struggling to write this installment, mainly because this is not only my least favourite period of Judge Dredd but this particular episode is possibly the worst of a bad bunch.

Mark Millar will presumably be known to the vast majority of people reading this and you will no doubt already have made your mind up about him. By any measure, he’s an incredibly successful writer. One of the things I find interesting about him however is that, despite having had so many of his works adapted for the screen, such as Wanted, Kick-Ass, Kingsman and, after a fashion, Captain America: Civil War, one of the first things those adaptations tend to do is make all the characters more likeable, punch up the motivations and generally make them less cruel. As a repository of great ideas, he’s rightly highly regarded. But you have to get past the extreme sadism first.

This story is a case in point. Dredd casually kills half a dozen basically innocent people on an extremely flimsy context and basically no-one, least of all Dredd, seems to care. One of the problems is, like Ennis, Millar seemed to have the caricature version of Dredd who shoots people for jaywalking and looking funny, and wasn’t particularly interested in exploring any other idea despite this being an increasing concern of John Wagner in the years running up to it. Unlike Ennis, his strips tended to lack any vestige of humanity at all.

It is, to be fair, a very 90s take. We are in the post-Watchmen period, which easily lasted until the mid-2000s, in which a whole army of British and American comic writers seemed to be determined to “deconstruct” any character they could get their hands on. What it tended to result in is a lot of sameiness: Millar’s Dredd is virtually identical in outlook to his version of Captain America in The Ultimates. It certainly became quickly clear to me during this period that edginess was generally a byword for saminess.

This is Mark Millar very early in his career; his only previous notable work was the Trident Comics’ Saviour and reviving Robo-Hunter, another John Wagner creation, in 2000AD.

He was the main Dredd writer in 2000AD from progs 829 to 880, although his work would continue to appear intermittently up to prog 1030 in 1997. During this period he co-wrote two stories with Grant Morrison. “War Games” in fact immediately follows “Inferno” (progs 842-853), which Millar wrote a seperate series leading into it, Purgatory (progs 834-841).

2000AD was really struggling at this point with a bit of a talent drain. There has always been a sense that British writers and artists would do their apprenticeships in 2000AD before moving onto bigger things in the US, but during this period 2000AD stalwarts were also to be found working at Deadline (created by Dredd artists Brett Ewins and Steve Dillon), Crisis (2000AD‘s “political” sister title) and Revolver (2000AD’s more “trippy” sister title heavily influenced by Deadline). There was of course the recently launched Judge Dredd Megazine, where John Wagner was focusing his Dredd energies. And finally, there was creator owned anthology comic Toxic!, set up by Wagner, Alan Grant, Pat Mills and artists Mike McMahon and Kevin O’Neill – a very explicit attempt to take on 2000AD on their own terms.

As a result, 2000AD was busy trying out new writers and artists, many of whom were frankly a little green. Some would go on to much greater things; a lot came and went. It would take the best part of a decade – and the cancellation of all of the aforementioned rival titles (except the Megazine) before the title began to recover.

Finally, this episode foreshadows a major upcoming crisis; one which, for whatever reason, never actually took place. It’s possible that this talk of a “crisis” starting “in the eastern blocks” within eighteen months is meant to refer to “Crusade” (progs 928-937), a strip Millar co-wrote with Morrison, but it doesn’t really fit. What’s most likely is that there was half an idea for another “mega epic” written by Millar to appear in a couple of years time, but it never really came to anything and he simply moved on. But, given that the only thing the judges seemed to do to prepare for it was give their top judge a bunch of psychosis-inducing experimental drugs, it’s probably for the best it never happened. An epic storyline would appear in 12 months time, but it would have nothing to do with Mark Millar and instead draw of plot threads which had been unravelling over at the Judge Dredd Megazine.

Judge Dredd Snapshots: Muzak Killer – Live! part 1 (prog 837)

Music is only cool when it’s old.

Marty Zpok

Date: 29 May 1993

Script: Garth Ennis; Artist: Dermot Power; Letters: Annie Parkhouse

Plot Summary

Marty Zpok, a serial killer with a grudge against popular music is currently serving 60 years in an Iso-Cube for a previous massacre, where he is regularly beaten up by his fellow inmates. A gang of his admirers lead by Indiana Saddoe break him out. They are shot down, but Indy and Marty escape. After Marty expresses his distaste for Indy’s taste in modern alternative music, Marty spots a new vid show being aired called Word Up and announces his plan to take over the show.

Commentary

I was pretty critical of Garth Ennis in my last post, but to be fair he had his moments, and the two Muzak Killer stories, which started with “Muzak Killer” (progs 746-748) are some of them, even if they are a little on the nose. In that respect they are no worse however than, for example, Wagner and Grant’s “The Game Show Show“.

The first story is a vicious send up of the state of pop music at the time, and in particular Stock, Aitken and Waterman’s so called “hit factory“. Marty Zpok manages to massacre thinly veiled caricatures of pretty much all of the big pop stars at the time such as Jason Donovan, Kylie Minogue and Bros. In “Muzak Killer – Live!” Marty turns his attention to the state of youth-targeted TV at the time, and in particular The Word – a magazine format show which covered music, film and celebrity.

It is clear from reading both stories that Garth Ennis is having fun, and has an axe to grind – not just at the state of pop music and youth TV but also at a certain type of cultural snob that will be all too familiar to anyone who grew up in Britain and Ireland at the time. Marty Zpok himself is clearly modelled on Morrissey (although he actually kills an even more thinly-veiled Morrissey in “Muzak Killer – Live!” part 2), while Indy Saddoe is modelled on Robert Smith, the lead singer of The Cure. As such, these strips have a certain energy that most of Garth Ennis’s scripts during this period sadly lacked, although I don’t think they have aged very well: aside from the digs at long forgotten celebrities, the scripts are peppered with misogyny and homophopbia.

As it turns out, this would end up being almost Ennis’s last published Dredd story. He would only write two more: “Goodnight Kiss” (progs 940-948), a fairly forgettable story which was presumably only delayed due to the time is took for Nick Percival to paint it; and, much later, “Helter Skelter” (progs 1250-1261). During this period, John Wagner would continue to write Dredd but for the most part his work was restricted to the Judge Dredd Megazine.

Dermot Power does the painted artwork for both stories, an artist probably better known now as a concept artist on Episodes II and VII of Star Wars, as well as many other films. “Muzak Killer” was actually only his second published 2000AD strip, and he went on to greater acclaim taking over as the artist on Sláine (my personal favourite strip of his being “The Treasures of Britain” in progs 1001-1010, 1024-1031).

Trivia

  • I’m not going to pretend to remember all the references this strip is peppered with, but the driver of the getaway vehicle Marty flees prison in, Karl Shamen, is clearly modelled on Kurt Cobain – and the Shamen were an band most famous for the song “Ebeneezer Goode” which mainly existed to prank music programmes into playing a song extolling the virtues of the recreational drug Ecstacy (you can also see a poster for a band called “Shame” on Indy’s wall which is another thinly veiled reference to them).
  • No idea who the fourth gang member is meant to be, sadly, but his name Bili Blur is similarly a reference to a popular music combo of the time.
  • Indy lives in a block called “Peel Acres”. Peel Acres was the nickname that Radio One DJ John Peel called his home. John Peel’s late night radio show was for decades the programme that people seriously into independent music would have listened to every week.
  • Other bands referenced are Judas Priest (“Judas Smith”), Cud (“Fudd”), Nirvana (“Montana”) and The Pixies (“The Fairies”).