Voter registration reform risks enfeebling UK democracy

We could follow the US into electing an illegitimate government.

I write these lines from the United States, where the public drama of the election campaign still has over three months to run. But the real election drama has been fought behind the scenes – and it may already have decided the next President. The UK should heed the lessons while we can.

For over a decade, the two main parties have fought a bitter partisan war over voter registration. At the risk of simplification, the Democrats have been trying to get voters on the ballot, especially among the groups most likely to vote for them, and the Republicans have been trying to keep them off. The Democrats did especially well among the 18 million or so new voters who registered between 2004 and 2008: an estimated two thirds of them chose Barack Obama. This year the Republicans are determined to prevent a repeat.

In 20 crucial swing states Republican governors and legislators have made strong efforts to keep voters off the ballot.  They have been marshalled by a well-organized lobby, the American Legislative Exchange Council, funded by the ultra-rich, ultra-conservative and ultra-secretive Koch brothers. Their prime targets are poor people, African-Americans, Hispanics, students and young people generally, and voters born outside the United States – all groups more likely to vote Democratic. One Republican legislator, Mike Tuzai of Pennsylvania, admitted openly that his party’s tough new voter identification laws were designed to deliver the state and its 20 electoral votes to Mitt Romney.

The Republicans have used four methods. One is to introduce new restrictions on volunteer organizations which conduct voter registration drives. The highly respected, non-partisan League of Women Voters has 70 years’ experience of registering new voters. The Michigan legislature decided that their volunteers required prior state training, although state training courses were non-existent.

Two crucial battleground states, Florida and Ohio, clamped down on early voting, especially on the Sunday before election day, long used by African-American churches to get their congregations to vote after attending services.

Five key states, again including Florida, introduced new measures to purge or exclude former felons (the tactic which delivered Florida – and the United States with it - to George W Bush in 2000).

However, the crucial Republican tactic has been to introduce stiff new demands for photo-identification for voters. As many as fifteen key states have done this. Their rationale is the prevention of voter fraud, although in reality this is extremely scarce.  George W Bush’s Justice Department hunted for cases from 2002 to 2007 and found only one to prosecute.

Republican measures target the 11 per cent of Americans who do not have the standard form of photo-ID, a driver’s licence. They tend to be young, or poor, or non-white, and to obtain alternative photo-ID they are often forced to travel to remote state offices with limited opening hours, and to pay large fees. The Republicans have also made it hard or impossible to use a student ID to vote. In Wisconsin they attached conditions to this which no Wisconsin college can meet. Texas bars the use of student ID for voter registration, but allows the use of a concealed-gun permit.

Some Republican states, including Florida and Pennsylvania, face legal challenges to parts of their measures, but the great majority are likely to stay in place in the run-up to the election. On election day itself, poor and non-white voters in Republican-held states will almost certainly find it harder to get to their voting stations than affluent white ones – a factor which helped George W Bush take the vital state of Ohio in 2004.

This month the Brennan Center for Justice produced a study of the likely impact of the most restrictive voter ID laws in the ten states concerned. It confirmed that poor and non-white voters were less likely to hold photo-ID than the general population, and revealed that 1.2 million eligible black voters and 500,000 Hispanic voters lived more than 10 miles away from their nearest full-time ID issuing office. It also found poor people likely to be deterred by charges of up to $25 for a birth certificate or a marriage license. It noted that the ten states concerned provide 127 votes towards the 270 needed to win the Presidency and concluded “the ability of eligible citizens without photo ID to obtain one could have a major influence on the outcome of the 2012 election.”

To put it more bluntly, the Republicans could win the election and introduce a fiercely partisan programme afterwards by denying millions of potential victims of that programme their right to vote against it. No friend of the US could think that a good outcome. These are the methods of Vladimir Putin, not the leader of the free world.

However, we in Britain have no right to lecture the Americans about electoral process and voter registration. The Parliamentary boundary changes would remove 20 non-Conservative seats before a single vote is cast, and changes in the powers of returning officers have led to the disqualification of thousands of votes on election night. However, the greatest worry is that our next general election could see additional millions of voters excluded from the already incomplete register. This would not be the result of partisan manoeuvring, but the unintended consequence of the government’s introduction of individual voter registration.

The House of Commons select committee studied this issue in depth last year. We received powerful evidence about the extent of under-registration not least from the impartial Election Commission and the Association of Returning Officers, who said up to a third of electors could be deregistered. Other authorities believe that as many as six million eligible voters may not be registered, rather than the 3.5 million normally cited. The non-registered are most commonly poorer people, especially the unemployed and those on the minimum wage, inner-city residents, especially in rented housing, and people from minority ethnic or language communities.

Individual registration could make this problem even worse and the select committee recommended a range of changes to prevent this, including a penalty for non-registration combined with a major public information and outreach effort directed at the groups least likely to register. We have the opportunity to get this right since the Bill is still before Parliament.

Without such measures, our country could follow the US into electing an illegitimate government from an unrepresentative democracy.

Graham Allen is Labour MP for Nottingham North.

David Cameron walks with his wife Samantha as he leaves a polling station in London on May 3, 2012. Photograph: Getty Images.

Graham Allen is Labour MP for Nottingham North.

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The decline of the north's sporting powerhouse

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Now, things are different.

On a drive between Sheffield and Barnsley, I spotted a striking painting of the Kes poster. Billy Casper’s two-fingered salute covered the wall of a once-popular pub that is now boarded up.

It is almost 50 years since the late Barry Hines wrote A Kestrel for a Knave, the novel that inspired Ken Loach’s 1969 film, and it seems that the defiant, us-against-the-world, stick-it-to-the-man Yorkshireness he commemorated still resonates here. Almost two-thirds of the people of south Yorkshire voted to leave the EU, flicking two fingers up at what they saw as a London-based establishment, detached from life beyond the capital.

But whatever happened to Billy the unlikely lad, and the myriad other northern characters who were once the stars of stage and screen? Like the pitheads that dominated Casper’s tightly knit neighbourhood, they have disappeared from the landscape. The rot set in during the 1980s, when industries were destroyed and communities collapsed, a point eloquently made in Melvyn Bragg’s excellent radio series The Matter of the North.

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Yet today, we rarely get to hear the voices of Barnsley, Sheffield, Doncaster and Rotherham. And the Yorkshire sporting powerhouse is no more – at least, not as we once knew it.

This should be a matter of national concern. The White Rose county is, after all, the home of the world’s oldest registered football club – Sheffield FC, formed in 1857 – and the first English team to win three successive League titles, Huddersfield Town, in the mid-1920s. Hull City are now Yorkshire’s lone representative in the Premier League.

Howard Wilkinson, the manager of Leeds United when they were crowned champions in 1992, the season before the Premier League was founded, lamented the passing of a less money-obsessed era. “My dad worked at Orgreave,” he said, “the scene of Mrs Thatcher’s greatest hour, bless her. You paid for putting an axe through what is a very strong culture of community and joint responsibility.”

The best-known scene in Loach’s film shows a football match in which Mr Sugden, the PE teacher, played by Brian Glover, comically assumes the role of Bobby Charlton. It was played out on the muddy school fields of Barnsley’s run-down Athersley estate. On a visit to his alma mater a few years ago, David Bradley, who played the scrawny 15-year-old Billy, showed me the goalposts that he had swung from as a reluctant goalkeeper. “You can still see the dint in the crossbar,” he said. When I spoke to him recently, Bradley enthused about his lifelong support for Barnsley FC. “But I’ve not been to the ground over the last season and a half,” he said. “I can’t afford it.”

Bradley is not alone. Many long-standing fans have been priced out. Barnsley is only a Championship side, but for their home encounter with Newcastle last October, their fans had to pay £30 for a ticket.

The English game is rooted in the northern, working-class communities that have borne the brunt of austerity over the past six years. The top leagues – like the EU – are perceived to be out of touch and skewed in favour of the moneyed elites.

Bradley, an ardent Remainer, despaired after the Brexit vote. “They did not know what they were doing. But I can understand why. There’s still a lot of neglect, a lot of deprivation in parts of Barnsley. They feel left behind because they have been left behind.”

It is true that there has been a feel-good factor in Yorkshire following the Rio Olympics; if the county were a country, it would have finished 17th in the international medals table. Yet while millions have been invested in “podium-level athletes”, in the team games that are most relevant to the lives of most Yorkshire folk – football, cricket and rugby league – there is a clear division between sport’s elites and its grass roots. While lucrative TV deals have enriched ruling bodies and top clubs, there has been a large decrease in the number of adults playing any sport in the four years since London staged the Games.

According to figures from Sport England, there are now 67,000 fewer people in Yorkshire involved in sport than there were in 2012. In Doncaster, to take a typical post-industrial White Rose town, there has been a 13 per cent drop in participation – compared with a 0.4 per cent decline nationally.

Attendances at rugby league, the region’s “national sport”, are falling. But cricket, in theory, is thriving, with Yorkshire winning the County Championship in 2014 and 2015. Yet Joe Root, the batsman and poster boy for this renaissance, plays far more games for his country than for his county and was rested from Yorkshire’s 2016 title decider against Middlesex.

“Root’s almost not a Yorkshire player nowadays,” said Stuart Rayner, whose book The War of the White Roses chronicles the club’s fortunes between 1968 and 1986. As a fan back then, I frequently watched Geoffrey Boycott and other local stars at Headingley. My favourite was the England bowler Chris Old, a gritty, defiant, unsung anti-hero in the Billy Casper mould.

When Old made his debut, 13 of the 17-strong Yorkshire squad were registered as working-class professionals. Half a century later, three of the five Yorkshiremen selec­ted for the last Ashes series – Root, Jonny Bairstow and Gary Ballance – were privately educated. “The game of cricket now is played in public schools,” Old told me. “Top players are getting huge amounts of money, but the grass-roots game doesn’t seem to have benefited in any way.”

“In ten years’ time you won’t get a Joe Root,” Rayner said. “If you haven’t seen these top Yorkshire cricketers playing in your backyard and you haven’t got Sky, it will be difficult to get the whole cricket bug. So where is the next generation of Roots going to come from?” Or the next generation of Jessica Ennis-Hills? Three years ago, the Sheffield stadium where she trained and first discovered athletics was closed after cuts to local services.

This article first appeared in the 19 January 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The Trump era