It’s all about the game

For weeks the flag referendum has been a debacle. Nobody understands why we’re not having a simple “do you want to change the flag” vote first, nobody understands how the hell two identical corporate logos got into the final four, nobody has a good explanation for why the government which re-introduced knighthoods suddenly got all aflutter about asserting our independence as a nation by scrapping the Union Jack.

Until Monday’s post-Cabinet press briefing, where John Key, half-Prime Minister half-circus contortionist, went from “Stop trying to make Red Peak happen, it’s not going to happen!”

“I love your enthusiasm, folks, but I’m SUPER SERIOUS about this! … Well, okay, technically we could.”

“In fact, we totally would, but they’re not playing ball.”

And in a moment in which apparently none of the Press Gallery’s heads exploded (they’ve clearly all maxed their Fortitude):

So in less than half an hour, as I sat checking Twitter on an early bus home, the flag story turned. From a $26 million ego trip, with Julie Christie, the woman who didn’t see value in having John Campbell on the telly, entrusted with the identity and ~brand~ of the nation, a PM who used every weasel word in the book to avoid spelling out that yes, he wants a fern on the flag, “public meetings” with an absolutely dismal turnout and a popular, grassroots campaign for a better option …

Suddenly, this is a problem of Labour’s doing.

It’s nonsensical. Wasn’t it just a week ago that John Key was dismissing the idea of changing the shortlist, because he’d have to change the law, which is obviously impossible for a government to do?

Brook Sabin found his own explanation:

Now, if you’re on the left, you just don’t believe that. Labour could have immediately said “hell yes, let’s do this thing!” and we just know, deep in our guts, where we’re still bitter about frankly made-up stories about Donghua Liu paying $100,000 for a bottle of wine, the line would be “Key, the great gameplayer, has masterfully turned the Opposition’s own arguments against them and come to a compromise which all New Zealanders will agree is decent and common-sense.”

The house always wins. John Key wins. Because we’ve come to accept that politics is a game, and political commentary is like sports commentary: more about how things occurred and whether the players are competent than what actually happened.

So we don’t get a lot of people with mainstream platforms pointing out that the need for a law change is a red herring, the waste of parliamentary time is a red herring, the demand for cross-party support in a red herring.

clue communism red herring

What gets reported is that Key played it really, really well.

And we’re all part of it. I’ve seen more lefties than journos saying “wow, that was masterful”, “dammit Labour, play the game better.” This entire post is about the political meta, not the facts!

This all leads people to say that John Key has magical political powers. And if you look at the results he gets, at the speed with which he turned a weeks-long tale of his own political machinations and frivolous spending of public money on a vanity project into a nationwide debate about whether or not it’s playing politics to point out he’s playing politics … it seems pretty magical.

But it makes me sad. Politics should be more than a game, and we should judge our leaders on what they achieve, not how brilliantly they cover up the fact they’re achieving nothing at all.

Makes for a catchy song though.

Getting the flag we want

eddie izzard flag

I admit I’m a latecomer on the Red Peak bandwagon. It’s not Red Peak’s fault. It’s a fine flag.

One funny little irony is that the anti-Red Peak criticism I’ve seen most often is “you’re trying to gerrymander the referendum because of your kneejerk hatred of John Key”. But the reason I initially didn’t like Red Peak is that it’s quite similar to the winner of Gareth Morgan’s $20,000 ego trip flag design competition.

And I definitely have a kneejerk hatred of Gareth Morgan.

But Red Peak has a lovely bandwagon full of fine people like Toby Manhire and Lachlan Forsyth. Red Peak has a great back story which reflects New Zealand in a way that mashing together a bunch of face-value cultural touchstones doesn’t. It just feels right.

Kids can draw it, which is such a Kiwi criterion for something that it makes me feel national pride every time I say it.

It’s not on the shortlist, but if you look at the shortlist, that’s a massive point in its favour. After all, the flag consideration panel ignored their own advice about the principles of flag design when they selected it. And it’s not likely to be added at the last minute (as Canada’s winning design was) if only because John Key can only handle so many embarrassing backdowns in one month.

But not all is lost. We can get the flag we want. The first referendum is clearly rigged; some people have ideas of which flag will be the least likely to defeat our current one, and going by iPredict (I assure you, I do know how iPredict works) and Twitter it’s the most-soulless corporate logo one. But it’s a preferential vote and in all likelihood one of the soulless corporate Lockwoods will get it.

Not THIS Lockwood.
Not THIS Lockwood.

So bugger the first referendum. The place to start is the second: with a vote to keep our current flag, and an implied “so we can try this again in a few years”.

Then the Red Peak campaign keeps going. Keep using it in avatars and profile pictures, take it to rugby tests and Twenty20 matches, fly it on Waitangi Day next to a tino rangatiratanga flag. Make it the de facto flag Kiwis use when they want to show a bit of patriotism – god knows not many of us are using the current one that way, and plenty of us would like to not be mistaken for All Blacks fans.

Then, when we have to make this decision again – probably, and fittingly, at the point we become a republic – the decision is all but made. There’s already an alternative ensign people are happy to call theirs.

And it doesn’t have a bloody silver fern on it.

I have to leave the final word to the glorious Eddie Izzard.

Political resistance is the opposite of gerrymandering

A slightly odd headline at the Herald this morning:

Revealed: Plots to gerrymander flag referendum

Four shortlisted flag designs will be put to the vote in November but plots to gerrymander the referendum results are already under way.

Deborah Russell’s response makes the point pretty clearly:

See, the chair of the Flag Consideration Panel, John Burrows, doesn’t like the fact that people are saying he did a piss-poor job, by delivering a shortlist of two practically-identical, already-commercially-used silver ferns, one alreadyused-by-apparentlyeveryone silver fern, and the plainest, least-scarily-“cultural” koru in existence (All hail Hypnoflag!).

John says:

“I hope there won’t be much gerrymandering because I think people have got to see what an important occasion this is.

“It’s the one chance people have in their lifetimes to do it. So to actually waste a vote for political or other reasons I think will appear to most people as unpalatable and unattractive.”

Indeed, god forbid people get political about the sovereign symbol of their nation’s identity.

britney confused

There’s a worrying idea at work here, and it’s become a familiar one since John Key became Prime Minister: democracy is only democracy when people are forced to participate and deliver the results John Key wants.

So it’s not democratic when the people of Canterbury elect a regional council which wants to impose restrictions on just how much the farming sector can plunder natural resources. Out they go. It’s not democratic when thousands of people march against the TPPA because they’re just a “rent-a-crowd”.

And it’s definitely not democratic for people to refuse to hush, keep their heads down, and give John Key the flag he clearly wants. Frankly, how dare you think that the democratic process of determining what flag flies in our country’s name involves you having any kind of say in the process? How dare you think that you have some kind of right to protest the obviously rigged competition being run in your name?

Spoiling a ballot paper or refusing to fill one out is not gerrymandering. Gerrymandering is a process for the powerful to entrench their power by rendering the votes of the people meaningless. Gerrymandering, in fact, could look a lot like giving people an incredibly limited set of options and bullying them into taking part by attacking their patriotism if they don’t.

Oh god, is this whole flag referendum is a metaphor for First Past the Post?

Vote however the heck you want to, people. Vote for the design you like best. Vote for the design you think has the best, or worst, chance of winning the final showdown against our current one. Randomly assign numbers. Flip a coin if you really just like filling out boxes.

But remember: Not voting can also be an act of democratic participation. Whether that means you just don’t “show up” (I know, it’s a postal ballot) or you deliberate spoil your ballot by (ideas I’ve actually seen): writing “I want our flag” on your ballot, crossing out all the options, or stapling a copy of your preferred flag design to the ballot paper – if you’re making a choice not to play John Key’s game, you’re sending just as powerful a message.

When the people in charge are getting upset because a lot of ordinary folk are saying things they don’t like, and have the power to create change: you’re doing something very, very right.

you go glenn coco

~

A side note: This is also why I reject the condescending way some on the left talk about non-voters – the “sleepy hobbits” attitude. Choosing not to exercise your vote because you do not have trust in the system, or because there are no options offered which you support, is as much a political act as voting. Our current system doesn’t offer a “no vote” or “no confidence” option. I think it should. Until it does, we have no way of determining whether or not someone’s lack of voting is indicative of laziness or active dissatisfaction, and we shouldn’t make assumptions about it to justify our elitist posturing.