Joseph Muscat’s government today has the same aura of inevitability and of being electorally unassailable that Ronald Reagan had throughout his presidency (1981-89) and that, in the UK, was enjoyed, for a period, by Margaret Thatcher (1983-1989) and Tony Blair (1997-2005). How does Muscat do it?
Let’s put more detail into that question. Muscat’s government is mired in scandal and sleaze. Yet none seems to affect Muscat’s trust rating, apart from the occasional blip. Meanwhile, there seems to be no realistic alternative to him – either within his party or from the Opposition.
I don’t think we can understand how he does it without seeing how Labour communications draw upon some findings of contemporary psychology.
This doesn’t mean that obvious factors, which need no reference to psychology, don’t matter. The Nationalist Party has often inflicted unnecessary wounds upon itself. Its freedom of action is hampered by both an identity and a financial crisis. It is some way from being a de facto government in waiting.
The economy has a strong feel-good factor. There are reasons to be cautious about the strength of its foundations, given the growing exposure to risk. But such considerations rarely feature in the considerations of voters in modern democracies.
And, of course, it’s easier to be untouchable if State authorities, like the police, are afraid to put a finger on you. And if you collude with private-sector cronies in imposing SLAPPs on scrutinising journalists.
So much for the obvious. But there is more.
There were conditions which predated Muscat but which were ripe to be exploited by 2008, the year in which he became Labour leader. Two in particular were problems facing the successive PN governments, recognised by some figures in the party as long ago as the late 1990s.
There was always a tension felt between the liberalising economic and political policies and the socially conservative communitarianism of the Fenech Adami and Gonzi governments. The political-economic policies underwrote greater innovation and individualism and freedom of choice and expression but then the loss of ‘traditional’ and communitarian values were decried.
The second problem had to do with the oddity of certain Maltese political allegiances when compared with the rest of Europe. In Europe, for example, teachers often have a greater affinity with centre-left parties. In Malta, the self-proclaimed centre-left party, Labour, had problems attracting them in great enough electoral numbers.
Such an allegiance was of course a legacy of the 1980s, when a Labour government had declared a class war on Church schools. But by 2008 that legacy was due to expire.
In other words, for these two reasons, among others, a realignment of votes was already up for grabs. Massive voter shifts, at general elections, were already taking place under most people’s radar.
These various answers are enough to explain Muscat’s victory in 2013. They don’t explain the years since: how people can simultaneously recognise the sleaze but not mind it; or how they can mind it, see its insidiousness, but feel ‘switched off’ from politics.
Explanations based on ‘traditional Maltese mentality’ are no explanations at all. Anything and everything isblamed on ‘national mentality’: bothapathy and fanaticism; both amoralism and fundamentalism.
Instead of chasing the peculiarities of ‘the Maltese mind’ (assuming there’s one and only one), we should perhaps focus on the traits of the human mind. Then we can see how Muscat, probably relying on a team of political consultants, has systematically drawn on the results of modern psychology.
First, he has drawn on the psychology of motivation. In the name of rationalising elections, he has radically overhauled the electoral cycle. General elections still occur every five years or so, of course. But local council elections now occur all at once, and councils enjoy a term almost twice as long as it was originally.
No one has commented on the confused justification. The rationalisation was meant both to avoid voter fatigue and to avoid the social polarisation of excessive partisanship. Well, voters are either tired of voting or else itching for a fight. It can’t be both.
The very multiplicity of scandals, on a weekly basis, help the Muscat government by blurring the lot of them
The real reason, however, is twofold. It minimises the bruises a Labour government is likely to get from disenchanted supporters in mid-term.
It also prevents the Opposition from being able to mobilise its supporters for an election. Being able to land a blow on Labour – no matter how inconsequential – energises and motivates supporters. It keeps a certain narrative alive. It also enables an Opposition party to conduct electoral ‘field research’ - both through door-to-door and by testing particular strategies.
No frequent elections means a less energetic Opposition with no electoral results to show to boost hope. Labour appears more untouchable.
A second set of psychological techniques have to do with making voting for Labour (or not voting for the PN) seem legitimate.
One technique is to re-frame the choice. It’s no longer said to be between Labour and the PN. It’s between ‘progressives’ and ‘conservatives’. Or between Muscat, who transcends the differences, and the PN as a whole.
Another technique recognises that people think of their life as a story, and that they want that story to be one of integrity and wholeness. They don’t just want to do what they want, unofficially; they want it to be legitimised by law.
The laws on gay marriage, ‘gay adoption’, and IVF are all laws perceived, by those who directly benefit from them, as contributing to their life’s integrity. That matters to them more than all other issues.
That doesn’t mean that those laws are therefore necessarily right. But it does mean that politicians are likely to be seen as out of touch when they don’t even recognise that integrity matters to such voters as well. Not just by the direct political beneficiaries but by others.
A final set of techniques rely on the psychology of attention. It is reckoned that the mind can only handle seven different items at once before losing focus. In politics, however, it is usually calculated that proposals should not number more than five at a time.
Ironically, or not so ironically, the very multiplicity of scandals, on a weekly basis, help the Muscat government by blurring the lot of them. Even journalists forget to follow up on whatever happened to Sai Mizzi, or to the Marsaxlokk inhabitants protesting against the gas tanker in the harbour, or to this or that critical businessman who has now unexpectedly fallen silent.
The very speed of developments can also blur the very different answers that were given by, say, Keith Schembri, in response to Neil Chenoweth of the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists and to the BBC’s flagship Newsnight.
These, and several other psychological techniques (such as how the mind discounts gains and losses), help explain Muscat’s current dominant political position. They can be countered. But first they need to be recognised.
ranierfsadni@europe.com