Polling Day in the UK
by Louis Cooke

MANCHESTER, England — Neither hanging chads nor questions over a tangible paper trail will weigh heavy on the minds of British voters today. Their ballot boxes are still sturdy physical objects, and for the most part decisions are still made by marking an X on a non-virtual document. But old-skool voting doesn't guarantee a glitch-free process. The Electoral Commission managed to send out a polling card to an 8-month-old baby, whose mother quipped: "She hasn't shown any interest in Mr. Blair or Mr. Howard or Mr. Kennedy. She quite likes Thomas the Tank Engine."

An alternative method to vote, by mail, has been followed by its own brigade of troubles. Postal votes were once used only by those who really needed them, such as expatriates, those serving in the military or people who live on one of the islands off Scotland that are miles from the nearest speck of modern living. But in recent years postal voting has become more widespread, partly because it has been encouraged to increase participation — it was the only way you could vote for local and European elections in North West England last year — and partly because people don't feel they have the time to visit their nearest polling station, all of which are open from 7 a.m. to 10 p.m.

Between 5 million and 6 million people applied to vote by mail in this General Election, but thousands of their ballot papers have been lost — unsurprising considering the Royal Mail loses an estimated 14.5 million letters a year. Thousands more were printed with the wrong identity numbers for voters in Lancashire. Several other blunders have been reported in the media, and two cities have been hit by fraud scandals over postal votes in local elections, with other areas being investigated.

But bah! That will not stop the British public from enjoying their day of democracy. For those making the trip to their polling station it is unlikely to be as jovial as Australia, where cheap burgers and soft drinks are on offer for voters (presumably to soften the blow of being forced to vote). But everyone will be able to exercise their right without fear of militant attack; long, thirst-inducing queues in the sun (clouds are a safe bet in a British May); or rumored disenfranchisement for unpaid parking tickets.

The only pressing concern, as it should be, is who to vote for. In some seats, though, it's a thorny, tangled issue, and the question is rather who to vote against. Britain's three-party system means tactical voting, to prevent a candidate from winning, not only exists but is openly acknowledged. Tacticalvoter.net is one of a few websites that allow vote swappers to register their democratic right for exchange.

The practice is controversial (Guardian columnist Polly Toynbee has raged against it, calling for changes to voting rules), but some see it as pragmatic. Lots of would-be Liberal Democrat voters convince themselves that to vote with conviction is too great a risk because it might let the Conservatives sneak in. Labour has played on that fear this year to tubthump that only voting for them will preclude another Tory government. In turn, Conservative leader Michael Howard has suggested that voters — even those who wouldn't go near his own crew wearing a radiation suit — should "send a message" to Blair, knowing that could fragment the vote enough to give the Tories an unlikely fighting chance in some areas.

In marginal constituencies, tactical votes are like spanners thrown into gear cogs. Things can get complicated. Fortunately, the TV coverage once the polls have closed should do its usually good job of explaining everything in layman's terms.

The BBC's approach is typically sterling — the channel tries its hardest to make the drabbest returns announcement seem relevant. This is important, because in large parts of the country, politics suffers from a horrendous image problem, despite the best efforts of all involved. For a start, the word "constituency" sounds positively unromantic, and the names of some are equally tawdry: Tweeddale, Ettrick & Lauderdale, anyone? Once the votes are counted, there will be no grandstand declarations such as "The Great State of Louisiana is called for George W. Bush!" followed by a brass band, 99,000 red balloons, yards of bunting and buckets and buckets of confetti. Instead, in some down-to-earth location such as a drafty, dingy sports hall, a man will read the total votes into a tinny microphone while the candidates behind him fiddle with their rosettes and the crowd claps politely. Anyone cheering will most likely be intoxicated. In a lot of cases the victorious MP will show about as much enthusiasm as if they'd won a school raffle.

The razzmatazz is injected back in the BBC studio, where the team has the advantage of the great advances in 3-D TV graphics made in the past few years. Election statistics maven Peter Snow will gleefully clamber over huge bar and pie charts he cannot see in front of him, with a skill to match the weather presenters who know unerringly where parts of the country are when faced with nothing more than a blue screen. He will sweep poll and graph data back and forth across the screen like Tom Cruise in Minority Report and wrap his tongue around a phrase like "margin of error." And when he's given permission to play with his trademark Swingometer, the enthusiasm on his face will be unavoidable.

Peter Snow and the Swingometer are a double act that only gets a serious gig every few years — they reform for the US election, too — but they're so well-known that it's difficult to imagine an election without them. The Swingometer's trump-card is its simplicity: By nudging one pendulum back and forth to represent a shift from one party to another, the outcome of the election can be predicted, including majorities, vulnerable high-profile seats and the exact amount of swing required for a hung parliament.

Used with poll data from a variety of sources, it's heaven for a political junkie, and they are likely to be the only ones awake, albeit bleary-eyed, in the early hours of the morning when the final results are announced. Everyone else will be sensibly asleep, knowing that by all accounts they'll wake up to a very similar political landscape.

E-mail Louis Cooke at louis at mintcake dot com.

— graphic by Harsho Mohan Chattoraj (harshomohan at yahoo dot com)