The latest political polls have proved it again: negative advertising works. We are powerless to resist the lure of anything told to us in an ominous baritone over sinister music.
The Conservatives are pushing 40 per cent thanks to their depiction of Michael Ignatieff as the greatest threat to the federation since gays were allowed to have parades and also rights. The Liberals are mired in the 20s. The NDP are, at last report, still the NDP. Stephen Harper is so upbeat these days that he often waits until after lunch to yell at his staff until they cry.
The Tory rise confirms what political strategists have long known—that it’s far more effective to dump on your opponent than to, you know, do things or believe stuff.
But how does negative advertising work? Are there really people out there so ideologically fragile that 30 seconds of dubious accusations are enough to alter their world view?
Voter: I intend to vote for the Liberals.
TV: Michael Ignatieff lived in the United States and liked it! Also, he sometimes uses effete hand gestures!
Voter: I’M A TORY MAN NOW.
Intrigued by this phenomenon, I have conducted painstaking research to develop a comprehensive theory that offers insight into the precise mechanism by which attack ads are able to affect popular opinion. My theory is as follows: people are dumb.
It’s important that you take this finding in its proper context. I am not saying you’re an idiot if you switch parties because of an ad you saw on television. But I am thinking it.
Our national dumbness transcends party lines. Politicians of all stripes have come to rely on it.
Our dumbness empowers Jack Layton to stress for months his party’s commitment to ending corporate tax cuts—then present to the PM a list of budget demands that doesn’t include ending corporate tax cuts.
Our dumbness allows Michael Ignatieff to give speeches in which he pledges to solve every plague known to humankind, from poverty and inequality to unemployment and Nickelback—and to somehow do it all while reducing the deficit.
Our dumbness guides us to be impressed instead of irritated when the federal government spends millions of our dollars on advertisements and thousands of our dollars on promotional signs to tell us they’re spending billions of our dollars on stimulus projects.
But the best recent example of a party banking on our national not-smartness is the latest Conservative fundraising letter.
The document purports to be a secret memo to Irving Gerstein, the party’s money man, from campaign chief Guy Giorno. “Irving, here is a little more on the critical pre-election situation,” it begins. It’s marked “URGENT” and says the Liberal leader will “stop at nothing” to win power. Holy Christmas, Dolores, that Ignatoohosit is at it again! It says so right here in this confidential letter that arrived via bulk mail. To the chequebook!
What’s that? You doubt the memo’s authenticity? Well, then, skeptic, I direct your gaze to the rubber-stamped words “Confidential Copy.” Obviously no one other than the legitimate head of the Conservative election campaign or a low-level staffer who lives near a Staples could produce such an imprint.
Question: is there a person alive who will believe this to be an actual confidential memo? The answer, terrifyingly, is yes. More shocking still, many of these same people have their own keys and are permitted to drive.
The Conservatives long ago learned that general requests for cash don’t work as well as pitches portrayed as urgent and specific. Giorno claims that, to ensure the party is “prepared” to fight an election, he needs $243,900. Exactly $243,900.
To be fair, that number actually holds up when you do the math:
• cost of shady attack ads: $243,900
• a human smile the PM can use during the campaign: free from McDonald’s.
If you send money to the Conservatives, that’s fine. You should be proud to donate financially to the political party you support. But if you send money based on this “confidential” memo, you’re saying you don’t mind being thought of as an idiot.
Then again, it’s refreshing to see that the Conservatives think as little of their own supporters as they do of their political opponents.















