Olympics bounce: Cameron may be wrong to play down his chances

Rule one of politics: never assume people are "sensible".

David Cameron is probably right to play down an Olympics polls bounce, but the reason why is not as obvious as he makes out.

The Financial Times reports that the PM told colleagues:

People are too sensible to confuse a sporting event with their day-to-day lives.

Which is just not true. New rule of politics: never assume people are sensible.

A 2010 paper by political scientists Andrew J. Healy, Neil Malhotra, and Cecilia Hyunjung Mo (via WonkBlog), titled Irrelevant events affect voters’ evaluations of government performance, shows just that:

Does information irrelevant to government performance affect voting behavior? If so, how does this help us understand the mechanisms underlying voters’ retrospective assessments of candidates’ performance in office? To precisely test for the effects of irrelevant information, we explore the electoral impact of local college football games just before an election, irrelevant events that government has nothing to do with and for which no government response would be expected.

We find that a win in the 10 d[ays] before Election Day causes the incumbent to receive an additional 1.61 percentage points of the vote in Senate, gubernatorial, and presidential elections, with the effect being larger for teams with stronger fan support.

The authors also find that the more surprising a win, the stronger the incumbency affect; that the effect seems to occur because the happier people feel, the more likely they are to vote for the incumbent; and that if they are made conscious of their reasoning, the effect of irrelevant events diminishes.

So the real question for Cameron isn't whether people are "too sensible" to confuse a sporting event with their day-to-day lives; it's whether the sporting event makes them happier, and, if it does, who they attribute (subconsciously) that happiness too.

The former question is something we'll have to wait until the end of the games to properly answer. The Opening Ceremony, certainly, resulted in a tremendous outpouring of goodwill nationwide, and while it is still a bit too early to tell (literally – the morning rush hour has not yet begun as I write this), it seems unlikely that the much-feared transport chaos will hurt too many people. Partially, admittedly, because many, fearing the worst, have already gone on holiday/arranged to work from home/told their bosses they are planning to contract smallpox for a couple of weeks, so don't expect them in, OK? But also because most of the nation does not actually live in London, and is experiencing most of the games as a televisual event with no real downsides.

National pride will also play a part in any Olympics boost. If Britain wins a lot of medals, then expect at least some people to wander around feeling a lot cheerier than they might otherwise.

The latter question, though, is harder to answer. If the Olympics does make people happier, is it going to be on such a subconscious level that they just attribute it to whoever's in charge? But unlike most sporting events, there is actually some political relevance to consider. It was, after all, Labour who chose to bring the games to London, and who ensure the bid was a success. But it was the Conservatives who oversaw the high-stakes final stretch. And does more of the credit go to the successive Mayors of London, or to the Governments who were ultimately in charge?

Ultimately, the goodwill effects of the Olympics are likely to be too small, too diffuse, and too unclear in provenance to give Cameron much of a boost in the polls. But the reason for that is emphatically not because people are too sensible. Cameron's just lucky he's not being blamed for a tornado.

A spectator walks past the Olympic Stadium. But is she happy? Photograph: Getty Images

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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Let's face it: supporting Spurs is basically a form of charity

Now, for my biggest donation yet . . .

I gazed in awe at the new stadium, the future home of Spurs, wondering where my treasures will go. It is going to be one of the architectural wonders of the modern world (football stadia division), yet at the same time it seems ancient, archaic, a Roman ruin, very much like an amphitheatre I once saw in Croatia. It’s at the stage in a new construction when you can see all the bones and none of the flesh, with huge tiers soaring up into the sky. You can’t tell if it’s going or coming, a past perfect ruin or a perfect future model.

It has been so annoying at White Hart Lane this past year or so, having to walk round walkways and under awnings and dodge fences and hoardings, losing all sense of direction. Millions of pounds were being poured into what appeared to be a hole in the ground. The new stadium will replace part of one end of the present one, which was built in 1898. It has been hard not to be unaware of what’s going on, continually asking ourselves, as we take our seats: did the earth move for you?

Now, at long last, you can see what will be there, when it emerges from the scaffolding in another year. Awesome, of course. And, har, har, it will hold more people than Arsenal’s new home by 1,000 (61,000, as opposed to the puny Emirates, with only 60,000). At each home game, I am thinking about the future, wondering how my treasures will fare: will they be happy there?

No, I don’t mean Harry Kane, Danny Rose and Kyle Walker – local as well as national treasures. Not many Prem teams these days can boast quite as many English persons in their ranks. I mean my treasures, stuff wot I have been collecting these past 50 years.

About ten years ago, I went to a shareholders’ meeting at White Hart Lane when the embryonic plans for the new stadium were being announced. I stood up when questions were called for and asked the chairman, Daniel Levy, about having a museum in the new stadium. I told him that Man United had made £1m the previous year from their museum. Surely Spurs should make room for one in the brave new mega-stadium – to show off our long and proud history, delight the fans and all those interested in football history and make a few bob.

He mumbled something – fluent enough, as he did go to Cambridge – but gave nothing away, like the PM caught at Prime Minister’s Questions with an unexpected question.

But now it is going to happen. The people who are designing the museum are coming from Manchester to look at my treasures. They asked for a list but I said, “No chance.” I must have 2,000 items of Spurs memorabilia. I could be dead by the time I finish listing them. They’ll have to see them, in the flesh, and then they’ll be free to take away whatever they might consider worth having in the new museum.

I’m awfully kind that way, partly because I have always looked on supporting Spurs as a form of charity. You don’t expect any reward. Nor could you expect a great deal of pleasure, these past few decades, and certainly not the other day at Liverpool when they were shite. But you do want to help them, poor things.

I have been downsizing since my wife died, and since we sold our Loweswater house, and I’m now clearing out some of my treasures. I’ve donated a very rare Wordsworth book to Dove Cottage, five letters from Beatrix Potter to the Armitt Library in Ambleside, and handwritten Beatles lyrics to the British Library. If Beckham and I don’t get a knighthood in the next honours list, I will be spitting.

My Spurs stuff includes programmes going back to 1910, plus recent stuff like the Opus book, that monster publication, about the size of a black cab. Limited editions cost £8,000 a copy in 2007. I got mine free, as I did the introduction and loaned them photographs. I will be glad to get rid of it. It’s blocking the light in my room.

Perhaps, depending on what they want, and they might take nothing, I will ask for a small pourboire in return. Two free tickets in the new stadium. For life. Or longer . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 16 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times