The allegory of the iCave: social media, political campaigns and Obama

Did we really know what Obama, Rudd, Bush Jnr, Clinton or Blair stood for at their time of election? Or did we just elect them because we felt they were kind of like us, or in base terms, they met our expectations of a cult celebrity? If the uncomfortable answer to the latter is yes, then it suggests that contesting politics from the “cultural ground”, rather than a defined and coherent political philosophy, is far a better strategy for securing victory.

It is this political pandering to our unreflective contradictory desires that leads to the absence of campaign-message clarity: to gain our favour, our “leaders” must pat us on the back and assure us that our grievances are just, as well as tend to our double-think desire for more government funding of public facilities - and a simultaneous draw-down in government taxes; stricter control for financiers - but less red-tape for business; a more caring society - but less money for welfare; relaxed and straight-talking politicians - in a 24/7 news cycle run by descendants of the Spanish inquisitors. It's no wonder that vagueness with a smile beats certainty with a grimace.

George Orwell characterised this style of leadership - power without clear social purpose - as responsible for the declining use of clear language in political rhetoric, “the whole tendency of modern prose is away from concreteness.” And in a visual environment that has oscillated away from deep analysis of issues and policy, we can see that the composition of the visual image itself has become the core campaign focus.

When it comes to our heart strings, a well-choreographed photo-op can strum us like a harpist from the Vienna Philharmonic, whereas a detailed policy discussion is as appealing as a crack addict on a banjo.

And yet, why should our politicians bother making promises about complex things like foreign policy when we clearly prefer those who stick to pleasant-sounding, but ultimately empty, dogmatic beliefs in “unity” (Bush Jnr) or “hope” (Obama) and a general belief in “Yes we can”? If you’re a politician, then why read the book, as it were, when we just want the movie?

The long-form printed word is the chief tool we’ve been handed to escape the caves of myth and tribalism. Yet the more we elect our politicians based on their ability to serve as unifying avatars in an incoherent medium like the internet, and not as genuinely decisive and purposeful leaders, then, like Obama, the vaguer and weaker will be their platform, and as is increasingly apparent, their mandate.

So be the book, not the tweet.