Movement towards reforming the voting age seems inevitable. Photo: Getty
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The policy few people want remains irresistible: lowering the voting age

Lowering the voting age should have been consigned to the political junkyard, so why is it still gathering momentum?

These are extracts of a chapter from a new book out last week, Sex, Lies and the Ballot Box, edited by Philip Cowley and Robert Ford. The chapter is called "The policy few people want remains irresistible: lowering the voting age" and is written by Andrew Russell.

. . .

The voting age is one of the few elements of the constitution that most voters know and support. The Hansard Society’s Audit of Political Engagement shows better knowledge of the voting age than any other aspect of political awareness. Electoral Commission surveys have found the public firmly against lowering the voting age, with even a small majority of the principal beneficiaries – those aged 15 to 18 – against it. The YCC reported similar levels of hostility from the public and only lukewarm support among those aged 16 to 17. A 2013 YouGov survey revealed that 60 per cent of the public are still against lowering the voting age.

Yet the movement towards reform seems irresistible. The Lib Dems, SNP, Plaid Cymru, Greens and now Labour have all moved to support votes at sixteen. There have been several attempts to bring laws to reduce the voting age in Westminster and the enfranchisement of 16- and 17-year-olds in the Scottish Independence Referendum makes further reform likely.

. . .

But if you think there is a raft of rights gained at 16 making an overwhelming case for enfranchisement, think again.

Lord Adonis recently repeated many of the most familiar claims: "Given that 16-year-olds are judged old enough to leave home, to marry, to lead an independent life, and even join the Army, it is hard to argue in the modern age that they shouldn’t also have the vote". However, a rudimentary fact check shows that each of Lord Adonis’s claims is fallacious.

Very few 16- and 17-year-olds leave home nowadays (ONS figures show more than 90 per cent of them lived with parents in 2012) and those that do must rely on someone aged 18 or over to sign a tenancy agreement for them.

According to the latest official figures, 92 per cent of 16- to 17-year-olds now stay in education. Furthermore, the English law raising the Participation Age means that from 2015 young people must stay in education or training tied to formal educational qualifications until aged 18, which will further reduce the proportion of eco- nomically active and tax-paying 16- to 17-year-olds.

The "no taxation without representation" mantra is often used in support of votes at 16 but high tax thresholds and poor youth wages mean under one-tenth of under-18s actually earn enough to pay income tax. Anyway, why single out direct taxation? The Boston Tea Party protested about indirect tax; and indirect taxation applies to all consumers whether eight, 12, 16 or 78.

Those under 18 need parental permission to marry in England, Wales and Northern Ireland. Moreover the number of young marriages has fallen dramatically over 50 years. In England and Wales in 1959 there were 184 weddings of boys, and 3,973 marriages involving girls, aged sixteen. In 2009, there were just 18 weddings of boys, and 88 of girls aged 16.

The Protocol of the UN Convention of the Human Rights of the Child means armed forces volunteers are kept out of active service until 18. Recruitment at 16 (but only with parental permission) continues but this seems a very good argument for raising the age for enlisting rather than lowering the voting age.

. . .

Perhaps the political class sees the possibility of electoral advantage? Harold Wilson’s government felt that reducing the voting age from 21 to 18 in 1969 would benefit them – unless young Scots turned to the SNP. Maybe it’s difficult to deny the claims of an organised and connected set of people who are continually said to be the future of the parties themselves. The Votes@16 coalition is certainly engaged but as the YCC concluded they might not accurately represent the constituency they speak for – the distance between the views of engaged and disengaged youth is enormous and growing.

The process of lowering the voting age is hard to stop once it has begun. Public opinion, international experiments and a move to enshrine 18 as the age of adulthood ought to have consigned the idea of lowering the voting age to the political junkyard but yet it is still gathering momentum. It may happen because it’s cheap, looks radical and encouraged by some organisations poised to benefit from the change.

Andrew Russell is professor of politics at the University of Manchester. Sex, Lies and the Ballot Box was published by Biteback Publishing last week. Buy it here.

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The idea that sitting all day behind a desk increases your output is a fantasy

If you don’t trust people, at least make sure that you imprison them, seems to be the idea.

Scruffy and tieless, I was the odd one out. Taking a break from research in the London Library, I settled at the bar of an Italian restaurant and resumed reading Tony Collins’s excellent book Sport in Capitalist Society. While the hedge-fund managers looked askance, the young Hungarian waiter recognised one of his own. “That was the subject of my PhD,” he explained, before giving me a sparkling history of sport and Hungarian society.

He now juggles waiting tables with writing articles. It’s not easy. He tells me that when he rereads his old academic work, “Sometimes I need a dictionary!” Like many other people in today’s economy, he balances different jobs, the remuneration and fulfilment varying significantly.

As you have probably noticed, it seems that almost everyone is employed but hardly anyone has a job. Of the 42 million people of working age in Britain, 23 million are in a full-time job; roughly 14 million are full-time parents or carers; most of the rest work part-time, or are self-employed, or work for a business that is so small that it is, in effect, a form of self-employment. The “job” – the salary, the subsidised canteen, the pension – is on the wrong side of history. That is both liberating and scary.

There are two separate points here. The first, deriving from the privilege of choice, is that some people (I am one of them) are happier with the variety and freedom of self-employment. The second is that many people do not have a choice: solid, dependable jobs are a dead concept. We had better get used to fending for ourselves, because we are going to have to.

The phrase “portfolio career” was popularised by the management thinker Charles Handy. “I told my children that they would be well advised to look for customers, not bosses,” as Handy put it. “The important difference is that the price tag now goes on people’s produce, not their time.”

This transition from time-serving to genuine contribution can be good news for workers and employers alike. The art of being an employee is to string things out while pretending to be busy. The art of being self-employed is the opposite: getting things done well and efficiently, while being open to taking on new work. Employees gain an incentive to look effortful, the self-employed to look effortless.

The idea that sitting constantly behind a desk increases output, which underpins the old concept of a job, is a fantasy derived from control: if you don’t trust people, at least make sure that you imprison them. As an unfortunate consequence, the projection of phoney “busyness” consumes more energy than actual work and brings a kind of compound stress: always bustling around, never moving forward. “Never walk past the editor’s office without carrying a piece of paper,” young journalists are advised.

When I turned pro as a cricketer, an old hand told me that if I ever felt lost at practice, I should untie my shoelaces and then do them up again. “We don’t measure success by results but by activity,” as Sir Humphrey quips in Yes Minister. Ironically, I had never realised that my career as a sportsman – apparently playful and unserious – would prove to be the outlier for opposite reasons. Where most careers have drifted towards freelance portfolios, professional sport has tightened the leash. When you have to eat, sleep and train according to strict rules, your job is at one extreme end of the control-of-freedom spectrum. Yet even in elite sport there is more room for semi-professionalism than the system usually allows, especially in games – such as cricket – where physical fitness is necessary but not sufficient.

Yet the reality of the portfolio career inevitably brings new problems that are bound up with wider forces. A life that is spent moving from one institution to another – from school, to university, to a lifelong job – is becoming exotic, rather than the norm. For most of us, there will be no retirement party, no carriage clock. It is not just finding income that is being devolved downwards; so, too, is the search for meaning, purpose and identity. We live in what Handy calls a “de-institutionalised society”.

There are civilising aspects to the trend. First, the new employment landscape reduces the likelihood of people wasting their lives in the wrong job just because it is safe. Handy cites data suggesting that 80 per cent of employees feel dissatisfied in corporate jobs while 80 per cent are happy leading freelance lives. Nor does the old lie – that of backloading happiness, with corporate sacrifice giving way to happy retirement – stack up. We are better off balancing duties and pleasures all the way through.

Second, the decline of the job-for-life may gradually undermine the assumption that everyone’s wealth and prospects (let alone their value) can be determined by a couple of questions about an employer’s address. Social assumptions based on (apparent) occupation are increasingly ridiculous. Guess who the scholar is in the Italian restaurant: the waiter. It’s a good lesson. Your Uber driver could be a landscape architect, funding his professional passion with part-time top-ups.

The language of employment (“Where do you work?”) has been slow to catch up with this reality. When asked, “What do you do?” a freelancer can give a full and interesting answer, only to prompt the follow-up question, “So, what do you do, then?” If conversation becomes less like a mortgage questionnaire, that can only be a good thing.

Hugo Rifkind, writing recently in the Times, admired the Scandinavian-inspired decoupling of taste from wealth. “It is a ­better world . . . where you are not judged on the lineage of your sideboard.” I am more radical. It is a better world when you are not judged on your job.

Better or not – and like it or not – we will have to get used to it. 

Ed Smith is a journalist and author, most recently of Luck. He is a former professional cricketer and played for both Middlesex and England.

This article first appeared in the 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war