Why can’t politicians tell the truth… ever?

“Politics,” said George Orwell, “is a mass of lies, evasions, folly, hatred and schizophrenia.”

British politics – to run with this theme – is founded on the goofy notion of collective responsibility.

For reasons too ludicrous to explain, every member of Britain’s government pretends to share the same brain. This helps explain the vast majority of legislation that gets passed.

More on Britain’s pre-election follies from Dominic Hilton:

“His Majesty King Blair I”

“Trust me, I’m a politician”

“If it’s politics, it’s just not cricket”

If you find Dominic Hilton’s articles valuable, please consider supporting openDemocracy by sending us a donation

No cabinet minister may have a thought of their own without the expressed consent of their colleagues. Late at night, when ambitious politicians embrace down deserted corridors of power, “No” means “NO!!!”

A minister who publicly owns up to being an individual is expected to resign. Try explaining that to a child.

Inglorious consequences abound. As robotic politicians stay “on-message”, the press feed off rumours of “splits”, and the public become “bloody sick of the sight of the lying hounds”.

Add the black art of “spin” to the mix, and you’ve got a recipe for the biggest public hangover since Jesus turned water into wine. “Spin doctors” think that by covering up a lie with another lie we’ll be dumb enough to believe the original lie. They do this openly. Politicians appear on news shows in order to say nothing, talk guff, say things everyone knows they don’t think, and “control the message”. Then they spin a new story, proclaiming an end to spin.

We can be as clever and “adult” about government and politics as we like, but the fact is politicians (even, or especially, the best ones) are A1 bullshit artists. We know it, they know it, any child would spot it in an instant – which is an excellent reason for lowering the voting age.

Politicians dodge questions like Keanu Reeves dodges bullets. The manufactured unity that politicos obsessively display makes us loathe their shameless phoniness. And then, to really rub salt into our wounds, they hold workshops about “public trust”, and poor sods like me have to go cover them.

Everyone is to blame for this sorry state of public affairs, you and I included. But must democracy be predicated on bullshit? Can’t someone stand up and tell the truth?

This week, in Britain, someone tried. Within hours he’d lost two jobs and his political career lay in ruins. His name, somewhat ironically, is Howard Flight. He was deputy chairman of Britain’s Conservative party and (for now, at least) MP for the delightful constituency of Arundel & South Downs. His crime was to suggest at a private meeting at London’s Adam Street Club that, following an electoral triumph, the Conservatives – historically, the party of low taxation and small government – might cut public spending. Michael Howard, Conservative leader, wasted no time stripping Flight of his position and, even more controversially, his right to be an MP. Be open in a democracy and bang goes the democracy part.

What was Howard thinking? That we, the public, are dodos. These days, the last thing you tell the electorate is that their supping from the public trough might ever be diminished. Howard is caught in a bind. His party stands against the current orthodoxy of bloated, interfering government. But he wants power, so dash the principles. He fired Flight to look tough – “I stand for no dissent amongst the ranks!”

“Michael Howard has shown he can match anyone for ruthlessness,” judged the Daily Telegraph. “Mr Howard is taking no chances.”

No, he’s not. The axing was all about truth and trust – two things one immediately associates with politics. Trust means vote-for-me and no surprises. Truth is trickier.

Flight’s defence was simple: he was telling the truth that he and his party were not going to tell the truth. The true extent of Tory tax and spending cuts was being concealed, he suggested, because “whatever the fine principles, you have to win the election first.” The same day, in the Times, Michael Howard had written: “Conservatives aren’t planning to cut public spending. We want to increase it.” So, was Flight lying about lying? Are truth and trust now the preserve of the bigger public spender? What the devil is going on here?

Explaining Flight’s sacking, Michael Ancram, deputy leader of the Conservative party, said: “This election is going to be about trust.”

Ancram’s boss, Michael Howard, has raised his standard: “to counter distrust in politicians.” As regards Flight, he decreed, “If you believe in honesty, you have to act on it”.

If your head isn’t rolling, it’s being spun.

This is far from a Tory exclusive. In person, Michael Howard strikes me as an almost unreasonably fair-minded fellow. The real lunacy of democracy is that while we all know politicians will do anything for power, and we hate them for it, most of us fall every time for their bribes. Why?

In his last budget before the election, Gordon Brown, Britain’s Chancellor of the Exchequer, offered a £200 council tax “rebate” to the nation’s old fogies. Cynical sweetener, thought I. No one will be fool-enough to fall for a temporary return of their own money. Fogies figured otherwise. Fossilised support for Labour shot upwards.

Encouraged by the bird-brained idiocy of the public, Brown was at it again this week. Britain’s Muslims are turning away from the Labour party, angry at its role in ousting Saddam Hussein, the 20th century’s biggest single murderer of Muslims. Cue Brown: “I want to honour you and members of the Muslim community as our modern heroes: standing for the highest ideals, bearing burdens, and bringing hope to Britain,” he slobbered. “What we share in common is the belief in fair play, in social justice and in the equality and potential not just of some but of all.” (Meanwhile, my government is locking loads of you up…)

In jumps Populist Tony Blair pledging more holidays for trades union members.

Up pops Michael Howard promising to “reward people who do the right thing.”

Politics as prostitution.

Who, in a situation like this, is taking the principled stance? £200 on no one to win.