“Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!”
Fans of The Wizard of Oz will no doubt remember Professor Marvel’s last ditch attempt to preserve the illusion of the ‘Great and Powerful Oz.’ Regrettably, it turned out that the awesome Oz was just a meek, middling magician.
A good film allows the audience to put aside its skepticism and believe in a fantasy world. It’s called the suspension of disbelief. The film Star Wars, for instance, created an implausible world of Jedi Knights, loquacious droids and death stars. But because audiences suspended their disbelief, it became a huge success. So what do films have in common with election campaigns?
In a successful campaign, the campaign manager is a lot like a movie director. He or she spins a narrative and hopes the voter will buy into the premise.
We usually don’t know their names, but they are, in effect, the men and women behind the curtain.
Take for example, the election of 1980. The price of oil had skyrocketed and the Clark government imposed a 4.5 cent per litre gas tax. The man behind the Liberal curtain was Keith Davey, known as the Rainmaker. He ran the entire Trudeau campaign on the promise of eliminating the gas tax and the premise of a ‘made in Canada oil price.’ It was a masterful example of prestidigitation and it gave Trudeau a majority.
Another prime illustration was the 1986 provincial election. The Social Credit campaign poobahs promulgated the premise that Bill Vander Zalm represented a “fresh start.” They promised a populist government and lower beer prices. I remember many young males of my ken buying into the premise. “Cheap Beer, man! I’m voting for the Zalm! Woo hoo! Party Hearty!”
Needless to say, the immensely popular Vander Zalm won a majority government.
The art of the promise, it seems, is to always tell the voters what they want to hear. Stephane Dion didn’t get the memo. His proposed green shift tax in 2008 went over like a solar powered zeppelin and the Liberals were decimated. Whether he was right or wrong is beside the point. It comes down to this: if you have gangrene, who do you believe? The doctor who says, “I’ve got to amputate your leg,” or the one who hands you a vial of penicillin?
To use the movie analogy again, some premises strain credulity. Take the expensive movie extravaganza, The Conqueror. It starred a hilariously miscast John Wayne as Genghis Khan. Naturally, it didn’t wash. It’s the same in politics. During the 1988 presidential election, diminutive Democrat Mike Dukakis tried to emulate the aforementioned Wayne by posing in a tank. If America didn’t buy the Duke as Khan, it certainly wasn’t buying Dukakis as the Duke. The good senator lost 49 of 50 states!
So what about the 2011 federal election? Which premises will be effective and which will not?
The Tories promising competent economic management? Effective. Stephen Harper as a warm cuddly teddy bear in a blue sweater? Not so much.
Jack Layton promising to be a compassionate voice for families? Effective. Jack Layton as the voice of fiscal probity. Not at all.
Michael Ignatieff promising fiscal prudence mixed with progressive social policy? Effective. Ignatieff as Captain Canada. Not even in a beer commercial.
I’m reminded of a story Carol Burnett once told. She was trying to discipline her daughter Carrie and sat her down for a talk. Much to her amazement, Carrie seemed spellbound paying complete attention. Burnett was delighted until Carrie asked breathlessly, “Mom, just how many teeth do you have?”
At this early point in the campaign, the voters aren’t really listening. They’re still counting the leaders’ teeth.
In the meantime, pay no attention to that man behind the curtain.
Ray Smit is a regular columnist with The News. He lives in Parksville.
