Hand-written Elections
The Information
Technology revolution is changing the world. Whether it be in the class-room,
the office, the factory floor or the home, our lives are being changed daily
by the wonders of modern science.
Scotland is a land that has given the world much, and we are no slouches at
the invention, development and introduction of the computer and its benefits
of speed with accuracy. The concept of the paperless office may be a myth, but
the technology has reached down to even the humblest corner shop. A few entries
each day on a specially tailored screen and at the end of the month it will
be added, reconciled, analysed and reported in the time it used to take to copy
out the letters in a big round hand.
One area of life alone appears to remain untouched by the benefits of electronic
wizardry - the parliamentary polling station.
I spent last Thursday as a polling clerk at the local polling station. I last
performed this task as a callow youth in 1955. Not much has changed in the intervening
fifty years. In 1955 I was supplied with a free lunch. In 2003 I carried a bag
of sandwiches and a bottle of ginger ale. That was it. The permanent staff from
the local authority offices were helpful, friendly, efficient and capable. But
they were working with one hand tied behind their back by the methodology adopted
by the Scottish Office.
The computer and all its manifest works were completely absent from the scene.
No matter how long the queue [and at times it was very long] nothing
could move faster than the pieces of paper that had to be called out, numbered,
stamped, passed out, scrutinised, marked but not defaced, and finally pushed
into a tin box like your granny used to keep biscuits in. It would have been
quicker if all intended voters had been obliged to read their electoral number
from their polling card and arrive with it tattooed, or applied with a felt
tip pen at least, to their forehead. It wouldn't have made the process any more
ridiculous.
I understand that there was difficulty in the counting of the papers at some
sites. Recounts were called for and I guarantee had every ballot box in the
country been recounted, more than a few would have yielded a different total
each time. One began to understand the fracas of Florida in 2000.
I know nothing about the workings of electronic voting machines, but the rest
of the world does - so it wouldn't be hard to get advice. Properly programmed
and the result would be known in a couple of hours if not minutes. We might
even be able to record our vote on the internet from the comfort of our own
home, or send an e-mail. There would be no need for recounts because the computer
would never give a different answer from the last time.
The Members of the Scottish Parliament are justly proud that they vote electronically
- and so they should, anything must be better than spending the night walking
through lobbies at Westminster to be counted like sheep. Do you think they could
be persuaded to extend the principle to cover their initial election? There
seems little logic in boasting of an all-singing, all dancing voting system
if you get to use it only after some conjuring tricks with pieces of coloured
paper and wee pencil stubs tied to the bench with string. You might be trusted
to vote, but you're not trusted to leave the pencil.
And don't let the civil servants tell you that it wouldn't work here, or that
it would compromise security. I challenge anyone to swear that the declared
result of last Thursday was a one hundred percent reflection of what the electors
really meant. Anything must be better.
Copyright © Alan Sinclair 2003