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Voters still like poshness in their politicians

We keep hearing that the electorate is in revolt against the elite, but in fact it depends how educated the voters are

The Times

‘I know what my mother would say across the dispatch box,” said the prime minister pointing at the leader of the opposition. “Put on a proper suit, do up your tie and sing the national anthem.”

Writing jokes for prime minister’s questions used to be my job and I’d judge this a pretty good one. Even if it had been prepared in advance (you can’t rule that out, part of the job is being good at anticipation), when David Cameron was heckled about his mum’s views, the riposte seemed spontaneous. And it brought the house down. You can’t ask for more than that. No more to be said.

Except that there is. As occasionally happens with political quips, some people have decided to take this seriously. As if it provided a deep insight into Mr Cameron’s personality.

There is something more than a little ludicrous about this. It was a joke for goodness’ sake. It’s like complaining that it is unnecessary for Bruce Forsyth to say “to see you, nice” when he has already affirmed that it is nice to see us. Yet I think the theory behind the complaints is quite a deep one and quite common. And that it is therefore worth tackling. So here goes.

There are two instincts that cover our response to people’s dress in general, and the dress of politicians in particular. The first is that we tend to like people who are like us. If they dress like us we are more likely to trust them. So a study has shown that someone was more likely to sign a petition protesting against the Vietnam war if the person asking for their support was dressed like them.

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Yet at the same time we respect authority and associate it with certain kinds of dress. A fascinating piece of research in Texas involved experimenters crossing the road against the traffic signal. The researchers recorded how many other people would follow them. Three and a half times more people copied the jaywalker when they were wearing professional business attire — they wore a proper suit and did up their tie — than when they were wearing ordinary work clothes.

As a result we expect two incompatible things from politicians. To be like us and yet not like us. To be ordinary and yet extraordinary. We want them to have authority and yet be one of the gang.

It is now common to argue — indeed it has almost become a cliché — that we are seeing a revolt against elites in politics. In other words, Cameron’s joke was ill-judged. Not because it appeared to sneer at his opponent but because it failed to understand the public mood. We are moving towards a greater emphasis on people looking like us, being like us, and there is increasing distrust of people wearing posh clothes.

A week after Cameron’s joke, Jeremy Corbyn’s followers were still going on about it on social media. We now communicate with each other, runs the argument, without the so-called authority of the mainstream media. The elite of the Labour party in all their poshness couldn’t persuade Labour’s grassroots that electing Jeremy Corbyn was a bad idea. And look at Bernie Sanders. And Donald Trump. And Nigel Farage. Everywhere the elites, them with their proper suits and ties, are taking a beating.

Yet subject this idea to more than the most cursory examination and it begins to crumble.

Trump, the billionaire son of a millionaire, must be in the elite

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No one wears a suit quite like Nigel Farage wears a suit. And how can Donald Trump, a property billionaire son of a property millionaire, possibly be seen as anything other than a member of the elite?

Jeremy Corbyn won his victory by appealing to affluent supporters. Internal party data reveals that a disproportionate number of Labour’s new members since 2015 are “high-status city dwellers”. The Corbyn campaign was a revolt by the elite and not against it. The same is true of the Bernie Sanders campaign. His base is the affluent and the educated.

Another problem with the theory about the revolt against the elites is that all these people are going to lose. Bernie Sanders will not be the Democratic nominee. Neither Jeremy Corbyn or Nigel Farage will be prime minister. And while I guess anything is possible, I do not believe that Donald Trump will be president.

Yet something is clearly going on. For all the confidence I have just shown about future outcomes, I wouldn’t have predicted Jeremy Corbyn would become leader of the Labour party (indeed I didn’t) or that Donald Trump would do anything like as well as he has done. The rise of Ukip may not have produced many seats, but it is obviously significant. So if something has gone on, what is it?

As more people are being more highly educated it is putting a strain on existing political coalitions. Take the Labour party. It has always been a coalition of educated liberals and those who are less affluent. Now, in a global free market, the interests of these groups, always different, is diverging rapidly.

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Less affluent Labour supporters seek protection for their income and status. They worry particularly about immigration and “political correctness”. They are keen on security. Meanwhile the affluent leftist seeks a liberal society in which there are few barriers to success for those with education. Immigration is in their economic and cultural interests and they are bemused by those who talk of security and do not share their faith in global peace.

Hillary Clinton is able to unite people from diverse communities

The Republican party coalition is similarly creaking as the interests of the affluent business supporters diverge from the less well educated, less well-off Super Tuesday voter. Like Nigel Farage, Donald Trump isn’t a traditional conservative. He attacks past Republican leaders, repudiates their policy on tax cuts for the rich, and rests his appeal on control of immigration and increased security.

As coalitions break up, the new groups are big enough to take over their party and to make a substantial public impact. Yet they are not big enough to win power. Power goes to those with the skill to hold together diverse groups.

Hillary Clinton, for instance, may be a poor candidate but she can still unite ethnic minorities, the American middle class and higher end liberals. David Cameron has brought new affluent liberal voters to the Tories while keeping just enough blue collar support. Both appeal as national leaders.

For all the talk of the revolt against elites, the spoils in politics still go to those able to dress both ways.