Is there a danger that our politics is spiralling into a moral void?

I don’t consider myself to be an exceptionally good person. I have, I admit, flaws. I have an erratic attention span, don’t always deliver entirely what I promise to, and could be better organised. But I like to think that I’m pretty loyal, prefer facts to rhetoric, and that I care about the people around me. If given a choice, I will tend to avoid personal attacks and make a positive case for the things I believe in rather than tear down my opponents.

And that, perhaps, is why I find modern retail politics so uncomfortable. I almost enjoy canvassing for myself, meeting voters and finding out what worries or concerns them. Putting out leaflets explaining what I think might be done reminds me that local government can potentially be a force for good. The problem is that, faced with opponents who make false claims, my first thought is to combat them with more positivity rather than confront their claims. The anecdotal evidence, unfortunately, is that such an approach doesn’t appear to work that well.

So, when my Conservative opponent in 2011 claimed to be the local candidate despite living miles away from the ward, I merely emphasised my local connections, leaving her misrepresentation to stand. I lost, albeit respectably, but I still lost. I am told that I should have raised the issue of her lack of connection to the ward early on, but it felt uncomfortable. Ultimately, my moral scruples may have cost me victory.

But I now find myself watching from the sidelines a contest where one side is running a campaign seemingly utterly lacking in moral scruples but without apparent consequence. Either voters have reconciled themselves to this, and polling numbers appear to suggest that, or the choices offered to them are so lacking in appeal that lying and misrepresentation are seen as legitimate tactics. That’s about as dispiriting as can be if you believe in politics as a potential force for positive change. For, if a politician is not tangibly punished for knowingly committing falsehoods, and indeed appears to be being rewarded for doing so, what incentive is there for others to play by the usual societal rules?

And thus, we see a political environment where those with integrity and decency are driven out, leaving those with the thickest skin, the least self-awareness or the greatest avarice left to “represent” us. Are such people actually what we aspire to in governance terms?

Don’t get me wrong. I still believe that many politicians are broadly decent and honourable. But tolerating such behaviour tarnishes the soul, and risks making you guilty by association. If your senior colleagues lie and dissemble, they are doing so in your name and, if you stay quiet, your complicity must be assumed.

I have no expectation that some of the more egregious committers of falsehoods will suddenly see the light and admit that they were wrong, indeed, I expect them to prosper, at least in the short term. But, in doing so they will coarsen our political debate, and the price will eventually be paid by us all, in poor government and resultant waste, inefficiency and expense. Because rules matter, and when times are tough, they matter even more...