Are we there yet? Are we there yet?

Is it just me or is this election campaign, even in its infancy, shaping as the political equivalent of one of those primary school music concerts that parents have to sit through when their kids are really young?

All the adults in the audience, sitting impatiently in their plastic chairs, checking their programs every two minutes to see how many more “performances” they have to endure before they can get the hell out of there, go home and drink wine. Lots of wine.

It’s even worse when your child is on early – then you’re just biding your time, listening to other people’s kids mangle their musical instruments.

At least primary school concerts only last two hours – we’ve got another four weeks of the current political discord – Scomo banging away on his battered banjo, and Albo huffing and puffing into his trusty recorder. What melody. What joy for the audience.

This drawn-out election campaign is only music to the ears of TV, radio and newspaper organisations, revelling in the extended influx of political advertising revenue. Good to know somebody is benefitting, because the real winners are few and far between.

In all my years, I can’t remember a mood of greater ambivalence in the lead up to a federal election.

Scomo’s greatest asset in his fight for political survival is Albo. And the only reason Albo started the campaign as a hot favourite is that he’s up against Scomo.

Then of course there’s Clive. As I said, the influx of political advertising revenue. I must have seen, heard and read 200 of Clive’s carefully placed political posturings, and I still don’t have the faintest idea what he’s talking about. Freedom? Freedom from what exactly? I’m seeking freedom from Clive’s lame 1970s-style jingle advertisements.

Yes, it’s a keenly contested race to the bottom.

Have we always had such little regard for our political pundits or have we in recent times, plunged to new depths? And if so, why?

Perhaps it’s how politics is now reported in the mainstream media – across the 24 hour news cycle, everything has to be explosive or heroic or catastrophic or calamitous to achieve cut through. Nothing is “just news”. There’s one source of aggravation – we’re encouraged to have “heightened emotions”.

Throw in the psychological sewer that is social media – so many people incensed, outraged, demanding to be heard – that some of our pollies, in the quest to appeal to everybody, no longer know which way to turn. Instead of taking a position and proceeding purposefully, they start listening to the peripheral noise. They get distracted and lose their bearings, even their sense of self.

Look at Albo. He’s spinning around in circles, his mind almost frozen by the fear of what’s waiting for him around the next corner. That’s the only plausible explanation for him not being able to reproduce those key economic figures — brain freeze. Our politicians are briefed to within an inch of their lives – he must have known.

On that theme, I’ve long marvelled at the role the army of policy and media advisers – the spin doctors – play in the presentation of their runner in the election race.

With such an abundance of riches, how do the party leaders get it so wrong so often?

Scomo’s “I don’t hold a hose” moment, for instance. “Sure Prime Minister, you go off to Hawaii on holiday while the county’s ablaze – it’ll be fine. Nobody will miss you.” Did one of his staffers actually suggest that? Or perhaps the advisers are presenting sound strategic advice that is simply being ignored?

“Mr Morrison, I swear… it’s a really bad look. Stay here, Go get some gum boots. Help hight some fires.”

“Nah – I’m promised Jenny and the girls. See you in fortnight.”

I know it’s along time ago, but the electorate still hasn’t forgiven him.

It’s one of those defining political moments, like Mark Lathan’s ugly intimidating handshake with John Howard in 2004. Shocker. Latham from that point on was seen as a troglodyte.

There was another stunning political foot-fault last week – Albo stepping up on stage at the Byron Bay Blues festival to treat music lovers to a bonus election address.

Who came up with that stroke of genius? Can you can imagine all the Blues Fest revellers marching through the gate thinking “I know Jimmy Barnes is performing tonight – I hope we get a little political content as well..” Must have been thousands with their fingers crossed, hoping Albo got up for chat. Another shocker.

To give all our stumbling, stuttering political aspirants, from all sides of the political divide, the best chance of success in the marathon run the electoral finish line, I asked one of Brisbane’s best creative advertising minds Pete Cunningham what he thought the various parties and their candidates should be doing to capture our hearts and minds (and attention) over the coming weeks.

Pete runs “Pitch Camp”, a business which specialises in helping “presenters” getting their message right when they’re on their feet, under the glare of the spotlight.

He says the job of every presenter, whether it’s a politician, a sales rep, or movie script writer, is to take “what’s authentic and make it compelling”.

And a good place to start is by remembering to be “kind rather than clever”, each time you stand up in front of an audience.

“One is a lot harder than the other,” he says, pointing to Scomo’s foot fault in this week’s debate, when rather than empathising with a woman with a four year-old autistic son, the PM defaulted to his own circumstances – “Jenny and I are blessed….”

“Presenters too often see themselves as the stars of their own show and forget that it’s actually the people in the room who hold all the cards, have all the power, and the final say,” Pete says.

“That moment in the debate was a perfect example. Scomo missed an opportunity to connect on a human level, choosing instead to talk about himself.

“Show us you’re listening, show us you understand, answer questions with genuine empathy. There’ll be times to tell your own story – we love stories, particularly before and after stories. Life after all is just a series of stories, strung together. Personal stories are also what make our politicians human, authentic. But they have pick the right moment.”

One final word of warning from Pete – pollies across the country would also do well to remember their audiences don’t care how hard they’ve worked.
Again… a little empathy… “I’m sure in your professional life, you’ve got just as much on your plate…”

There you have it, folks. What a thrilling battle it’s going to be – ScomO v AlbO.

All I can say – bring on May 21. And may the best “O” win.

Are we there yet?

Post script: Can somebody please offer Albo a decent feed? He looks hungry.