A love letter to a better kind of pavement politics - the last line of defense in the culture war
Reflections on the role of 'pavement politics' and community campaigning. Community politics in a time of community divides.
Previously published at LibertyEqualityStrategy.wordpress.com. Notably featured in a talk by a Cambridge academic on the past and future of Liberal Democrat campaigning and on the Twitter feeds of every Lib Dem worth listening to.
Local government is plagued by a terrifyingly prevalent brand of ‘community politicians’. Councillors who think being a community politician begins and ends with pointing at pavement parking, potholes and poo. Spicing things up on occasion by opposing some affordable housing, or paying for a flower bed.
When I originally wrote this I was drowning in the tough final stretch of my successful campaign to become a Councillor. A year, a promotion to the youngest cabinet member in my council's history, and big wins under my belt haven't shifted my views an inch. I still love pointing at potholes as much as any proud pavement politician.
But.
Doing ’pavement politics’ without also fighting for systemic progress is like trying to fight a forest fire with a watering can. It's rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic.
It is easy to think MPs are the front-line in the fight against the systemic challenges facing marginalized communities. In reality, Councillors have far greater influence over the most immediate challenges. If only they learn to use it.
Policing, youth work, housing, education, access to green spaces, clean air, affordable healthy diets, economic opportunity - they're local issues at their core.
Being explicit about tackling systemic challenges - racism, economic inequality, gender inequality... - is a surefire route to losing. Stick to potholes, everyone hates potholes!
There is some truth to this. But to allow it to police our politics is to allow it to police our communities. Our ever more polar ‘culture war’ climate further marginalizes the needs of marginalized communities.
This is entirely intentional. Not an unfortunate bug, but a feature for those who know that the only way they get their way is by dividing our communities.
They win every time we regard campaigning for the interests of those on the margins as pandering to the ’metropolitan elite’ over the caricatured ’working class’. When pandering to a core vote that doesn't share our core values becomes more important than our values.
They win every time we stand candidates in our name that we know aren't liberals. Dave from the community centre may be very enthusiastic about campaigning for residents' parking. That doesn't make up for the fact that he gets a bit racist after a pint. He's racist sober too - and you're hearing it now because you've created an environment he feels safe to be racist in.
Every single time we draw a line between 'us' and 'them' we draw a line between us winning and us losing.
Because the culture war is all about communities - and powered by a fear of the power we hold if we work together. It's a war between liberating the marginalized vs keeping them in the margins.
When we tell people that being a community politician means tackling narrowly defined ’local issues’, and select candidates, and elect politicians, based on their ability to campaign on those issues, we bypass the community entirely.
We’re pointing at potholes on dead high streets.
’Defending green space’ while offering no solutions to a burning housing crisis.
We’re at pride parades that our trans constituents can't go to because they can't use public bathrooms that match their gender.
Scowling at pavement parking while those in need scrape together pocket change for expensive bus services. If it arrives, or if they get one at all.
We’ve forgotten the roots of community politics. The ’left behind’ starting social housing co-ops and community centres. Fighting for fairer funding and empowering themselves as they fought the system for equality.
By refusing to fight in the 'culture war' we are simply refusing to fight for those the culture war was whipped up to harm. We're letting the other side win.
There is no pavement politics without marginalized communities. It's like a stick of rock: Bite it all the way down, it'll still read Brighton.
Even pothole stories - that good old faithful - are class and accessibility politics in action.
They decide how safe it is to cross a road. They decide whether people can cycle where they live. They decide who can travel safely around their community. Impacting everyone, but hitting those who need it the least the most.
How a road looks and how accessible it is impacts local investment. It impacts how many people visit an area, which impacts footfall in local shops, which in turn, impacts what kind of shops you have in your area. Fewer shops, and a range of shops that cannot meet the needs of a community, means food desserts, more driving, and a harsher hit to the climate.
When poorer areas have more potholes people who have less money end up spending more to repair damage created by councils spending less on them.
Multiply the reality that different communities are impacted differently by every aspect of pavement politics - parking, planning applications, sports facilities, green spaces, recycling... - and you have the making or breaking of modern Britain.
I've spoken to too many Lib Dems who look at former Lib Dem wards and scowl at the people. They’ve gone ’blukip’, the students have moved in, the good ones have all moved, it's all just too transient now...
Underneath all that, if you were to rewind every leaflet they delivered and every conversation they’ve had, in too many cases you'd have to gauge the year by the amount of hair the last Councillor had at the time.
They’re having the same conversations via the same dated mediums about the same problems with different people with different problems who consume information in different ways. All while expecting it to work, and blaming someone else when it doesn't. The world moved on, and their voters with it.
These are the areas I love to campaign in. The toughest conversations I have on the toughest doorsteps often have one thing in common - two words - ”it’s fine”.
I've spoken to people trapped on endless waiting lists. People without the basic necessities. People who can't afford the heating. Who can't travel around their area and see their friends anymore. People who have told me that the way things are is 'fine'. It is as it always has been.
Because that's the standard we’ve given them. Someone in Whitehall who couldn't find their address on a map stamped a stack of paper deciding that's what they're worth.
If what they're worth isn't enough to get the urgent medical care they need on their doorstep, or to have somewhere safe for their kids to play, then that's fine. Not good. Not great. Not an environment people can flourish in. But fine.
Westminster politicians can have a field day with excuses and distractions for this. They'll wrack up the culture war dial until it falls off of their media machine - because they're not the ones who have to look them in the eye.
In a world of divide and conquer politics, we don't have any choice but to play the game. You can convince yourself that you aren't playing until the ink from your not quite dry Risographed Focus rounds seeps through your fingers into the very core of who you are. But, the moment you knock on your first door, you’re on the board.
You can use the work you do to empower your community. You support those marginalised by the system. Take the fight to the people who have decided that good enough is good enough for the people you represent. Fight for equality for all and quality of life for everyone. Or you can lose.
Social progress is not linear. Pushing forward and not being pushed back means playing whack-a-mole against people who stand to profit from a less equal world. Every single day. Every single Focus round and committee meeting. For as long as you live.
Point at those potholes until you get carpal tunnel - but never lose sight of the bigger picture.