The bloke next door

(For the time being) I’ve stopped reading the news sites, I’m off twitter, I don’t watch TV or listen to the radio. There are numerous good reasons for this, but all I’ll say for now is that I don’t think being well informed makes me happier or more constructive.

My almost exclusive source of news is the Betoota Advocate, a satirical news instagram account / Beer marketing strategy. This is surprisingly effective for staying up on world events. I managed to know about the resurgence of the Taliban, who won the Grand Final and that NSW had a new premier all without having to find out what 500 talking heads THOUGHT about it.

Reading Betoota today I see there is a new Quarterly Essay out on a topic I think about a lot:

I’m keen to read this one, and I’ll blog my comments if i do. I’ve read many political books and essays over the years on why elections are won and lost, and I’m getting more convinced it’s less to do with policy and more to do with which leader the voters can most identify with. I love me some George Megalogenis, Electorate Demographics and all that, but I worry that the electorate gets too much credit for rational thought, and that it really comes down to who best taps into our psyche. Recent results in WA, QLD and VIC state elections suggests we’re very supportive of whomever best embraces our collective identity at that precise point in time.

Take Scott Morrison for example. Here is a bloke who 1) grew up in the Eastern Suburbs playing Rugby 2) Only real jobs were running Tourism Australia and the state director of the NSW Liberal Party (I don’t count child actor as a job) and 3) only started following his football team when he ran for his current electorate. Your average Aussie bloke he ain’t. But dammed if he doesn’t Cosplay hard as the most vanilla uncle you ever met at a family BBQ.

Now typically most people can see through the ‘knocking up a chook shed’ shtick. But I’m starting to think that being a daggy bloke dressing up as a truck driver or a farmer like you’d rather have that job is actually a pretty relatable thing to do. Maybe Australians identify with that? What is more Australian than falling into a job you are unqualified for, pretending to cook dinner or posing for cheesy shit photos with a beer in hand.

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