Political scientists are supposed to be interested in elections. Elections are supposed to be our grand final. Our World Cup. The fruition of all that reading and writing and teaching. At least they’re supposed to be. Outside of campaigns and we envisage elections as boasting witty ads and fiery debates and penalty shoot-outs. They rarely do, of course. At their best and it’s weeks of handshaking at shopping centres. Mediocre speeches. Meaningless platitudes. At worst and Plucka Duck is involved.

Outside of election cycles and I reflect on voting with fondness. I have memories of returning to my old primary school with my Dad. About scowling at Liberal party candidates thrusting literature: do we look like we’d vote conservative? Fond memories about buying lamingtons. About sausage sizzles. And then the election comes around and it’s just so much less exciting. I live in the CBD. For me, voting means long queues at the Town Hall. No lamingtons. No fried onion. Large crowds and interlopers aplenty voting absentee.

Outside of election cycles and Australians think of ourselves as righteous. Under the Bush administration we were preoccupied with proving how cultured we were compared to the Americans. We’d quote “statistics” about how so few have passports. Mouth off about how they don’t know where Canada is. Fervent was our fondness for noting how few bothered to vote. We felt righteous that no matter how uninterested in politics we are, at least we vote.

Ah. Yes, we do vote.

We vote because we have to.

Masterchef has taught me numerous things this year. It taught me that eating toast while watching other people cook can be entertaining. It taught me how to make an Opera Cake which I did with aplomb. It taught me that no matter how drawn out the show is, no matter how many irritating pauses and ad breaks and clichés and tense music, that it’s still more interesting than an election campaign.

I’m the kind of academic who is fascinated by the minutiae. While I’m interested that the spuriously titled Great Debate was moved because of Masterchef, I’m thoroughly fascinated by what this says about Australians.

If people – myself included – would rather watch a cooking show than a political debate, what does this say about our relationship with politics?

We don’t discuss compulsory voting much in Australia. We appear to accept it as our civic duty. We get our name ticked off, we buy our lamingtons and get on with our Saturday. But if it wasn’t compulsory, just how many of us would actually turn up?

Just how slack are we?

Slack-arseness is a factor here, but there are also some bigger problems at hand. Let me do something outrageous and blame the politicians. Where are our great orators? Where are the stirring speeches? Where is the wit? The charm? The gusto? When a glorified squiggle is as exciting as a debate gets, maybe it’s not just about slack-arsery. Perhaps our vote for Masterchef isn’t so much a statement against politics as much as a statement against campaigns. A statement against bad ads. Against bad speeches. Against bad choices. A statement against wasted money. Wasted time.

That, or hey, maybe we just like watching the cookin’.

Dr Lauren Rosewarne
School of Social and Political Sciences, 24 June 2010