Despite all the non-stop talk about the misuse of political robocalls, the best question has not been asked. Why do political parties use them at all?
Robocalls are telemarketing of the worst sort. People phoning you at dinner time to sell something you have no interest in buying are annoying enough, but at least one can have some sympathy for those trying to make a living by doing this unappealing work, and some people really do need their ducts cleaned.
Annoying political phone messages are quite another thing. It's difficult to believe that a recorded message could persuade a voter to support a particular politician. It's much easier to believe that excessive phone calls could cost votes.
Naturally, the companies that make good money providing this service swear by it. And they have proof of its efficacy. The party that wins will inevitably have used robocalls, enabling the companies that sell the service to say the calls work. The argument is weakened by the fact that the losing parties used them, too.
When I ran in the provincial election last year, the No. 1 voter complaint was the sheer volume of calls people were receiving from all parties. It was often difficult to identify the source of the calls. Local campaigns can only afford a limited amount of calling, but the provincial party calls too, and the federal party is always looking for money, even during a provincial election.
All of this is well beyond the control of the candidate himself. It is the stuff of campaign managers and central party strategists.
Candidates spend months knocking on doors and talking to voters. The ultimate goal is to build a list of your supporters. It's an imperfect process because so many people are not home and a lot of others are cagey about who they support. Nevertheless, a list will be created and the people on it can expect a call to remind them to vote. If robocalls were limited to that, it wouldn't be so bad.
Instead, robocalls are used to remind those on the list of upcoming events, pearls of wisdom from the party leader and any other messages the campaign can afford to share.
The political pros will tell you that the value of the call, robo or live, lies in getting the candidate's name out there. Letting people know you are running is actually a big challenge. It's amazing what people don't know. Early in last year's provincial campaign a popular question at the door was the name of the Liberal candidate in my riding. Since he was a cabinet minister and former mayor, one would have assumed that people were aware that he was their MPP. Not necessarily so.
Even if a candidate is lucky enough to receive some media attention, it's fleeting. The alternative is advertising, but it is expensive and there is no guarantee people will see it. During the official campaign, lawn signs help, but even then some voters profess ignorance of something as simple as the identity of the candidate.
When it comes to repeating the candidate's name, the theory is that more is better, and robocalls are a relatively cheap way to deliver volume. It's the same premise that leads to the endless repetition of certain ads on television. For example, whether we want to or not, we know that Boston Pizza sells an amazing variety of meals, all the same colour of orange, and that twits in green jackets enjoy the company's wings.
Unfortunately, this approach reduces the selling of politicians to the level of the selling of soap. While both can be quite slippery, politicians aren't products.
Or maybe they are. Political parties talk about "branding" all the time.
Perhaps that's the heart of the problem. If we didn't sell politicians like soap, people might have a little more respect for the individuals and the ideas they represent.
The worst manifestation of this is negative advertising. It has become standard operating procedure for political parties to imply that their key opponent is remarkably akin to Satan. Again, the justification is that "it works."
It's true that one of the negative ad parties will win, but does it really work? The Ontario PCs spent a fortune reminding voters of Dalton McGuinty's various flaws. Didn't matter, in the end.
Robocalls and negative advertising both treat people like consumers, not citizens. The policy of all parties is tailored to so-called "pocket book issues," as if nothing larger mattered. It's no wonder that so many people choose not to vote. In effect, they are choosing not to buy a political product.
It's disturbing that some might have used robocalls to distribute misleading information, but on their best day, robocalls dehumanize politics and politicians. That's what's really wrong with robocalls.
Randall Denley is a member of the Citizen's editorial board. He ran as a PC candidate in the 2011 provincial election. He blogs at ottawacitizen. com/randalldenley and tweets at twitter.com/randall_denley. Phone: 613-596-3756. Email: rdenley@ottawacitizen.com
Original Article
Source: ottawa citizen
Author: Randall Denley
Robocalls are telemarketing of the worst sort. People phoning you at dinner time to sell something you have no interest in buying are annoying enough, but at least one can have some sympathy for those trying to make a living by doing this unappealing work, and some people really do need their ducts cleaned.
Annoying political phone messages are quite another thing. It's difficult to believe that a recorded message could persuade a voter to support a particular politician. It's much easier to believe that excessive phone calls could cost votes.
Naturally, the companies that make good money providing this service swear by it. And they have proof of its efficacy. The party that wins will inevitably have used robocalls, enabling the companies that sell the service to say the calls work. The argument is weakened by the fact that the losing parties used them, too.
When I ran in the provincial election last year, the No. 1 voter complaint was the sheer volume of calls people were receiving from all parties. It was often difficult to identify the source of the calls. Local campaigns can only afford a limited amount of calling, but the provincial party calls too, and the federal party is always looking for money, even during a provincial election.
All of this is well beyond the control of the candidate himself. It is the stuff of campaign managers and central party strategists.
Candidates spend months knocking on doors and talking to voters. The ultimate goal is to build a list of your supporters. It's an imperfect process because so many people are not home and a lot of others are cagey about who they support. Nevertheless, a list will be created and the people on it can expect a call to remind them to vote. If robocalls were limited to that, it wouldn't be so bad.
Instead, robocalls are used to remind those on the list of upcoming events, pearls of wisdom from the party leader and any other messages the campaign can afford to share.
The political pros will tell you that the value of the call, robo or live, lies in getting the candidate's name out there. Letting people know you are running is actually a big challenge. It's amazing what people don't know. Early in last year's provincial campaign a popular question at the door was the name of the Liberal candidate in my riding. Since he was a cabinet minister and former mayor, one would have assumed that people were aware that he was their MPP. Not necessarily so.
Even if a candidate is lucky enough to receive some media attention, it's fleeting. The alternative is advertising, but it is expensive and there is no guarantee people will see it. During the official campaign, lawn signs help, but even then some voters profess ignorance of something as simple as the identity of the candidate.
When it comes to repeating the candidate's name, the theory is that more is better, and robocalls are a relatively cheap way to deliver volume. It's the same premise that leads to the endless repetition of certain ads on television. For example, whether we want to or not, we know that Boston Pizza sells an amazing variety of meals, all the same colour of orange, and that twits in green jackets enjoy the company's wings.
Unfortunately, this approach reduces the selling of politicians to the level of the selling of soap. While both can be quite slippery, politicians aren't products.
Or maybe they are. Political parties talk about "branding" all the time.
Perhaps that's the heart of the problem. If we didn't sell politicians like soap, people might have a little more respect for the individuals and the ideas they represent.
The worst manifestation of this is negative advertising. It has become standard operating procedure for political parties to imply that their key opponent is remarkably akin to Satan. Again, the justification is that "it works."
It's true that one of the negative ad parties will win, but does it really work? The Ontario PCs spent a fortune reminding voters of Dalton McGuinty's various flaws. Didn't matter, in the end.
Robocalls and negative advertising both treat people like consumers, not citizens. The policy of all parties is tailored to so-called "pocket book issues," as if nothing larger mattered. It's no wonder that so many people choose not to vote. In effect, they are choosing not to buy a political product.
It's disturbing that some might have used robocalls to distribute misleading information, but on their best day, robocalls dehumanize politics and politicians. That's what's really wrong with robocalls.
Randall Denley is a member of the Citizen's editorial board. He ran as a PC candidate in the 2011 provincial election. He blogs at ottawacitizen. com/randalldenley and tweets at twitter.com/randall_denley. Phone: 613-596-3756. Email: rdenley@ottawacitizen.com
Original Article
Source: ottawa citizen
Author: Randall Denley
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