• Five Thoughts On Losing Elections (and a referendum)

    Everyone has their own speciality. Mine is losing elections.

    It seems to have become a primary passtime. More than a hobby, less than a national identity but part of who I am.

    I’ve lost elections in school, university, the church and civic society. I’ve not become president of my College student association, nor a Member of Parliament, nor a Councillor, nor a Rector of the Univerity of Glasgow and I’ve recently not become a bishop.

    I am proficient at it. It is my own special skill. I’ve done it so often that I’m sure I’ve forgotten some of my most triumphant defeats.

    I can’t say that losing elections is easy. Each comes with its own particular disappointment; its own lasting murmer of what might have been if only things had been a bit different.

    But it is from this perspective that I want to say something about how to lose an election and in particular how to react to having lost one particular referendum.

    For a significant moment occurs today. At 11 pm this evening Britain will leave the European Union – and become the only nation in world history ever to have declared economic sanctions against itself.

    I was in favour of remaining for all the same reasons that I was in favour of Scotland remaining in the UK. I’m predisposed to think that we should be in anything.

    I remain of the view that the poor in the UK will pay the highest price for coming out of the EU.

    So I was on the losing side of this one. I mourn our departure from the EU.

    As an experienced expert on losing elections then, I tentatively offer the following reflections on how to lose.

    1. When you are beaten, it may be because the other side was better at it than you were.
      Oh, I know that this is difficult to accept. I’ve felt the pain of feeling robbed time and again. But one of the things I’ve learned from those who I’ve fought alongside in the liberal/left/pro-European corner of the political vineyard is that many of those I’ve been very close to just can’t accept the basic reality that those who have different ideas just might be better at getting them across. People who think differently might be clever. Might indeed be cleverer than thou. Accepting this hideous reality is the first step in coping with losing. It is far easier to claim that the other side cheated than that they were better. It is relatively rare that they did.
    2. Change happens.
      New opportunites present themselves. As soon as the dust clears from one battle, the pathway to the next becomes clear. There’s no going back. The world only spins one way. But one of the features of the way the world spins is that change is still always going to be part of the journey.
      In 2005 I took no small pleasure in nearly doubling the Liberal Democrat vote in Stirling and knocking the SNP into fourth place. The fact is that the seat has been held by Labour, Conservative and now SNP members since then. And I took tiny scintilla of pleasure in seeing how it changed hands at the last election, even though it wasn’t a party I’ll ever vote for who won. Change has always happened and always will happen. Recognising this is the first step towards getting back on board and standing publicly for something again.
      I hope that the UK forges a path as close as possible to the EU and ultimately rejoins. I’m in the minority here but that’s what I hope for. And learning what one hopes for is a large part of poltical participation.
    3. You don’t have to win an election to have an effect.
      Getting a higher turnout in an election is a good thing. Getting more votes for what you are standing for than people expected is a joy. Losing elections can be part of turning the tide in a wider movement for change. I cannot count the number of votes that those of us campaigning for equal marriage in the Scottish Epsicopal Church lost but each was a step along a journey that eventually led to change that has brought joy into the lives of people who didn’t know how much their hearts could sing. You are part of something. Try to see the bigger picture.
    4. You don’t have to win an election for it to have an effect on you.
      I’ve been changed by all the elections that I’ve fought and mostly for the better. I’ve probably been changed for the better more by those I’ve lost than the few that I’ve won. Participation in an electoral system is an invitation to learn from others. I’ve learned skills of persuasion and learned that people are interested in original ideas no matter how off the wall they first seem to be. I’ve learned that being able to see over the horizon is no guarentee of electoral success but I’ve learned to see a little bit further over the horizon all the same. There’s much  to be gained by standing. That isn’t invalidated by losing.
    5. It is about winning, all the same.
      There’s a time and a place for bitter regret. And that place is never in public. The tough reality is that sometimes one simply has to suck it up and accept that one lost. Whether one wanted a particular democratic event or not, sometimes the fact remains staring us in the face that this time it was a loss.
      It is particularly difficult seeing people and organisations who claim to be hugely committed to democracy finding it so difficult to accept that the Brexit referendum didn’t go the way they expected it to. Yes, some of the reasons some people voted were about xenophobia. Yes, some of the reasons were to do with reasserting a sense of Englishness which has gone sour in recent years. Yes, some of the reasons for voting in the recent election were, however misplaced, about a sense of self-interest. But they were real feelings. Change won’t begin to happen until ideas emerge from the losing side that capture or recapture the hearts of those who voted differently.
      All elections are won on hope. Even hope that you despise.

    If rightwing populists can win the hopes of people across the world then anyone can win the hopes of an electorate. But that won’t happen automatically. It needs imagination, inspiration and those prepared to take risks, dream dreams and stand up for what they themselves hope for in public.

    And it needs people prepared to lose elections.

    Until one day they win.

9 responses to “RSA Animations”

  1. annie t Avatar
    annie t

    Fascinating stuff; like watching a (very) animated Paulo Freire! Loved the insight ‘collaboration is the stuff of growth’. Interesting implications for a congregational paradigm for theological education. Thanks Kelvin.

  2. kelvin Avatar

    Yes – I was also reminded of my synod question about TISEC, which I still don’t think I’ve received an adequate answer to, which was something like this: “Is learning through TISEC driven by normalised marking or learning outcomes?”

  3. Kimberly Avatar

    presumably neither, but by the grace of God?

    (‘normal’, ‘outcomes’, and ‘TISEC’ all in the same sentence could lead to much fun. But I suspect I’d head down the via negativa again.)

    1. kelvin Avatar

      The answer that I got was “both” though I’ve never believed that can be possible. I do believe that TISEC at one time or another took on the trappings of each of those learning models, but that is not the same thing at all.

  4. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
    Rosemary Hannah

    Can I gently suggest that the Tisec you love to hate has over the years changes significantly?

  5. kelvin Avatar

    TISEC has always claimed to be changing – in that way it always is the same.

    I do accept that things have changed but have no way of knowing whether they have changed for the better. I still know people whom it appears to suit and I still know people who get distressed by what is done to them within it. In that respect at least, again, it remains the same.

    I’ve said before now that one of the reasons that TISEC is something that still presents unresolved issues for some of us who went through it is that there was never any public accountability within the church over what was done to us. No-one was ever held responsible and even though TISEC itself went through several reviews, the reasons for those reviews being carried out were never transparent.

    I’d still be happy to receive a coherent answer to the question. Incidentally, when I was in TISEC, the answer was clear – it was driven by learning goals and outcomes.

    I was at the General Synod where we voted for TISEC to cease to be a teaching institution. That was a pretty strong decision and one which was enthusiastically celebrated by some. (I went to the celebratory lunch afterwards and some folk came up from England for it). That does make it hard to understand what has happened subsequently.

  6. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
    Rosemary Hannah

    More than it would be appropriate for me as a staff member to answer to, and more than I am the most appropriate person to answer to, educational theory not being my speciality. However, FWIW I can answer to the fact that normalised marking is firmly in place, and that our external examiner is more than happy with the standards our students achieve. Beyond doubt all those who get a diploma from us have achieved the educational equivalent of the first two years of University education.

  7. kelvin Avatar

    Well, this isn’t comparing like with like as the current external examiner acts for an institution (albeit one which may have a financial interest) that had nothing to do with TISEC when I was in it, however, I can say that the external reports on TISEC were always astonishingly good.

    All the more astonishing for those of us who were in TISEC at the time I was, actually.

    It would be interesting to compare the quantifiable academic achievements of Scottish ordinands over time. I’ve a notion that two years of university study falls short of the standards for ordinands which the General Synod was hoping for when it last voted on a report about TISEC.

  8. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
    Rosemary Hannah

    The current external examiner is, it is true, employed; however he is not a member of the qualifying institution. He is a member of another independent academic institution, thereby bringing to his examination direct knowledge of at least three bodies (theirs, ours and his as it were). The work of our students is scrutinised by two markers at Tisec, and each piece of work scrutinised by the external examiner who checks it is achieving the same standards as YSJ. The over-all standard of YSJ is likewise scrutinised to ensure it too is achieving work of the same standard for the same level as other Universities.

    The question of whether standards nationally have risen or fallen is a different question, and harder to ascertain. We may indeed have our own different opinions. But I think it beyond doubt that the general level of the work of Tisec students is the same as the level (qualification for qualification) as the standard of students nation wide. So very much work goes into ensuring this.

    Personally, I would not be prepared to grant a degree in anything involving Biblical studies without knowledge of the Biblical languages. However it is a fact that the Universities now often do this – and indeed even forty years ago it was possible to obtain a M. Theol at St Andrews with only Greek. However regrettable this is, insisting on a full degree will not restore this.

    For those who study for a qualification with Tisec while working, as indeed for those who study with other bodies while working, to achieve two years of degree level study while in a full time job is a considerable achievement. To reach degree standard would take another 18 months I suppose – and that is a decision for the church to take.

    While I would be very sympathetic to the idea of encouraging more students to undertake a full time degree at a University, the funding of such things is a decision for the denomination, not Tisec. To ensure this in the present economic climate would be expensive, and for students who already have personal commitments, not always possible. This is why most English dioceses offer part-time training. The brief for Tisec is to offer a course that those NOT taking a full-time a course can follow, together with specifically vocational study which the Universities do not provide.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Previous Posts

  • The Special Synod on Family Life

    Something significant is going on in the Vatican this week. A series of conversations has started about how the Roman Catholic Church deals with issues that arise in family life. It is hugely significant because such conversations simply don’t happen very often. Another interesting thing is that it started off with a questionnaire that was…

  • Why outing [some] bishops must remain an option

    Last weekend, an extraordinary letter was published in the Sunday Telegraph. It came from 300 Christians, mostly Anglicans who were offering support to their bishops should any of them decide to come out. It was described by some as a love letter to gay bishops. I had the chance to sign the letter and, though…

  • Can you backdate a marriage?

    How interesting to learn about the new rules that will govern couples in England and Wales who have been in a Civil Partnership who wish to change (upgrade?) their relationship status to a marriage. It seems that they are going to be able to do so easily and will receive a “backdated” marriage certificate which…

  • Sermon preached on 28 September – Who do you think you are?

    Who do you think you are? In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. “Hello, can you help me, this is ICM and we are conducting a telephone poll in connection with the recent referendum would you be willing to answer some questions.” And I said yes –…