My problem with the polls

Chasing the polls hobbles the leadership we really need.

Jean Kabasomi

Jean Kabasomi works in financial services in London. She also writes and broadcasts.

A graphic shows two political opinion poll questions and bar graphs.

Political opinion polls.

YouGov.

Recently reviewing the media’s coverage of the riots in the UK, I came across an article in The Telegraph that both surprised and annoyed me. It outlined an opinion poll conducted on the government’s response to the riots. It claimed that 49 per cent of the population were unhappy with the Prime Minister’s response to the riots.

Now, you might be wondering why I was annoyed by the article. For me, IF opinion polling is to be used it has three principal applications. First, it might be used to understand how people intend to vote in an upcoming election. Secondly, polling might be used to inform governments or public organisations. They might want to understand how a policy could impact the general populus or a specific group of people. Or measure whether a policy is having its intended impact or not. Lastly, polling might be used by a government to gauge how its overall programme is being received by the population it was elected to serve.

Polling, in my view, is not supposed to be used to ask the general public about the day-to-day functioning and decision-making of a recently elected government. Again, you might wonder - why does this matter?

Well, you don’t need to be a polling expert to know that trust in politicians in developed democracies around the world is at an all-time low. The prevailing view is that politicians are out for themselves, lack integrity, do not believe in anything in particular. They are happy to provide their opinion based on whichever way the wind is blowing.

The blame for this is often placed at the feet of those politicians. The argument is that the calibre of people choosing politics is far lower than it has been in previous generations. As such we have a group of leaders who do not believe in what they tell us. Others argue the toxic culture of social media, the overall decline in moral standards in Western democracies and the rise of the culture of the individual, also contribute to fewer common norms on moral expectations.

All of these are true and do intensify the situation we find ourselves in. But I think there might be a more fundamental problem that is rarely addressed. Instead of politicians getting on with the job they have been elected and therefore delegated to do, they are constantly trying to please people instead of serve people.

Politicians are having to constantly try and not say the wrong thing on social media or in a tough interview. They are, more and more being urged to respond to polls (often commissioned by the media) and the resulting stories about the day-to-day functioning of government. In any sphere of life, it is virtually impossible for any leader to make a good decision if they are constantly forced to question whether they are making the right decision not because it might harm the people they are leading or serving but because it might not be received well.

If we want the calibre of our politicians to improve, our current crop needs the freedom to govern, oppose and lead without the need to please us.

Both Jesus and St Paul spoke of the contrast in pleasing people instead of being led by God (or your convictions). Jesus said that you cannot serve two masters. You will either hate one and love the other or be devoted to one and despise the other. Here, the contrast in question is between money and God. But the principle remains the same. Politicians cannot govern effectively if they are trying to win a popularity contest at the same time.

This does not mean that politicians should not be held accountable. They should be able to explain and justify the policies and decisions they make within the confines of the system that they have been elected into. In the UK, this includes Parliament, engagement with constituents, in-person surgeries and meetings, party management, and dialogue and examination by the media. It should not include weekly polling data which seems to serve the purpose of generating cheap content and fleeting headlines. It prevents the politicians from taking difficult but necessary decisions and stifles debate on challenging topics.

If we want the calibre of our politicians to improve, our current crop needs the freedom to govern, oppose and lead without the need to please us. They need to feel compelled to serve us. Not only will this lead to better decision making but it will also encourage ‘stronger’ candidates to enter politics knowing that they have the freedom to contribute to a better society for all.

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Psychology

12 July 2024

7 min read

How to get the best time out of your downtime

The joys and perils of taking time out for summer holidays.

Roger Bretherton

Roger Bretherton is Associate Professor of Psychology, at the University of Lincoln. He is a UK accredited Clinical Psychologist.

A pair of sunglasses beside a swimming pool.

Jakob Owens on Unsplash.

For the first few days of any summer holiday there seems to be something wrong with my brain. Having looked forward for months to the moment when I can finally down tools and get some rest, having yearned for weeks to be free of the relentless schedule of emails and meetings, the moment finally arrives and I, well… hate it. I’ve wanted to stop for ages and then when I get the chance, I don’t want to. The flywheel momentum of the to-do list somehow carries over into the holiday and turns the first few days into an obsessive nightmare of drivenness.

This usually manifests in the agitation of wanting to rest while being unable to do so. My schedule says stop but my mind hasn’t got the memo. Instead of gently sculling across the pool, I’m swimming time trials through an obstacle course of inflatable beds and dayglo sea creatures. My family is quick to remind me that the languid currents of the pool were designed for relaxation, not for achieving a personal best. ‘It’s called the lazy river, Dad, not Verstappen at the Nürburgring.’ It makes me laugh, but it doesn’t make me stop. Nor does it stop them shouting things like ‘He’s taking the apex’, and ‘Dad’s got DRS’ from their sun loungers every time I sluice past.

In the old days, psychiatrists used to call it the Sunday Neurosis, the mild state of agitated low mood that afflicted people on their day off. The inescapable feeling that we should be doing something on days when there is nothing to do. The realisation that we’re not quite sure who we are when we are freed from the daily demands we can easily resent. I don’t know what you have planned for the summer- a beach party in the Bahamas or an Airbnb in Bridlington or the classic post-Covid staycation- but if you’re planning to take a break of any kind there are a few things you should perhaps keep in mind to make the best of it.

If we must work full throttle to the final hour – we may have to accept that we’ll spend the first few days on holiday getting used to being on holiday.

First. Slow down slowly.

We have a tendency to think that life can change at the speed of thought. Just because our diaries say holiday, doesn’t mean that our bodies are working to the same schedule. The autonomic nervous system that governs our state of physiological arousal largely operates automatically. It isn’t synched to our Outlook calendar and can’t deliver relaxation on demand, no matter how much we would like it to. Psychotherapist Deb Dana likens changing our state of physiological arousal to taking a lift down a few floors. It takes time to move from a highly active state, to a more relaxed and connected way of being. It doesn’t happen at the flick of a switch and we only agitate ourselves more thinking it should. She says we should befriend our nervous system. Instead of impatiently asking ourselves why we aren’t more relaxed, we should simply ask whether we need to be this agitated right now. And if we don’t, accept that it may take us some time to adapt to a less demanding environment.

When it comes to holidays, this suggests we should allow ourselves some time to acclimatise. Our bodies don’t automatically relax the moment they hit the beach, or hike the mountains, or lie under canvas - they need some time. We can do this before the holiday starts, by slowly decelerating as time off approaches. Like a car approaching a junction, if we want to stop smoothly, we might want to hit the brakes long before we reach the stop sign. And if we can’t do that – if we must work full throttle to the final hour – we may have to accept that we’ll spend the first few days on holiday getting used to being on holiday. It may not make us a pleasure to be with, but we can at least understand that it’s just how our bodies work. We are not droids, there isn’t an off switch on the back of our heads.

On holiday, we can take time to savour the experience of living- to be in our bodies, not just use them.

Second, get into your body (and out of your mind).

There’s a reason people spend so much time on holiday exercising their bodies: surfing, climbing, walking, riding. And weird stuff too, that you’d never dream of doing at home. One time in Normandy we booked a hand-pumped locomotive and huffed/puffed our way up and down a railway line for an afternoon. If I didn’t have the blisters to prove it, I’d think I’d dreamed that. Why do we do these things? Because it feels good to be aware of our bodies. Even my laps around the lazy river had a certain logic to them.

Many of us spend most of our time in disembodied thought. We can sometimes feel like the involuntary participants in a workplace time and motion study, in which worth is measured by output. It doesn’t matter where you work – home, school, office, a boat, the woods – sooner or later a spreadsheet will find you. You can run, but you cannot hide your data. And the impact this has on us is that we tend to be more aware of whether we have hit our targets than we are of the toll these targets take on our bodily wellbeing. Just recently I was asked to support a management team going through a stressful restructuring. One guy claimed he didn’t feel the stress of it- he just got on with the job. But when I sympathetically suggested he might be paying for it with his body, the litany of physical ailments he produced sounded like the list of side effects in a 1980s pharmaceutical commercial. He didn’t think he was stressed, but his body kept the score.

Let’s face it, going on holiday itself is stressful. It’s ranked 42 on the Holmes-Rahe Life Stress Inventory, just above ‘minor violations of the law’. Apparently packing for Marbella is more stressful than being pulled over by the cops. But it’s worth it if it creates a space in which we can de-stress, a space in which we can remember that we have a body, a body that needs to be looked after. Of all the benefits of bodily awareness – the positive sense of how our body feels, not the crippling consciousness of how it looks – perhaps the greatest is its capacity to turn off the hyperactive judgement of our minds. On holiday, we can take time to savour the experience of living- to be in our bodies, not just use them.

If we are defined by our output, who do we become when our output drops to zero?

Third. Make time to connect.

What happens when we slow down and learn to live in our bodies again? We become open to connection: socially, emotionally, even spiritually. Back to Deb Dana. She notes that when we take that slow elevator down from the souped-up state of busyness to a more relaxed and open state of mind, we activate the ventral vagal nervous system. She calls it our ‘home away from home’- which seems especially apt for being on holiday. In this state we are happier to be seen by others and therefore to be in relationship with them. Whether it’s a conversation while walking, or an evening card-game, or a meal together, all of them offer a chance for us to dwell in our home away from home in connection with others.

One of the things that can keep us so obsessively busy, is that we are not always sure who we would be if we stopped. We’re not certain we have a right to exist when we’re not being productive. If we are defined by our output, who do we become when our output drops to zero? This is why for thousands of years the practice of rest has been enshrined in spiritual practices. Without space to detach ourselves from the hectic pace of life we will inevitably confuse who we are with what we do. The Judeo-Christian tradition called it sabbath, not just a day of rest, but a way of being in which there is nothing left to prove. Holidays can offer us that opportunity, if we are willing to take it. Because after all what do we call someone who becomes more relaxed and embodied and connected? I think: more human.