Tomorrow, America decides – and the world is holding its breath.
2016 has already been one of the most astonishing, unpredictable and turbulent years in politics.
Tomorrow, it may get even stranger.
Who could imagine that the decision about who sits in the Oval Office as one of the most powerful people on our planet has descended into a contest to pick the one disliked least?
Because, astonishingly, both the main protagonists have negative net approval ratings. Both have unpopularity ratings.
In other words, neither commands a majority of public support. I know that only a handful of US presidents have ever actually received over 50% of the popular vote, but that is because there are other candidates who stand.
But approval ratings are not who you would vote for – they are just a measurement of whether a candidate is, on balance, ok.
Your may prefer the other candidate to actually do the job but can still rate both positively.
They measure relative, not absolute preference. But this time around America doesn’t like either Hillary or The Donald.
Both Clinton and Trump have their ardent and committed backers.
The “come what may” brigade. But it is in middle America and the swing voters in the swing states where the contest will be decided.
It seems that many in the US who will decide which of them is to lead the free world are doing so not on who they prefer but instead on who they dislike most.
A case of who do they want to lose most.
More of an ugly parade than a beauty one.
A choice between the lesser of two evils.
Although I fear the winner might be the evil of two lessers.
The son of an immigrant who admonishes Mexico and admires Putin.
So God bless America. And God bless us if you get it wrong.
Tough choice America. We are watching.
Contentious issues: Matters for heart and head
The US presidential election has also been a reminder that we can’t let our hearts rule our heads. That ideals worth defending come at a price.
This week, two events have made me question my gut reactions.
First there was the question about the Scottish and English football teams wearing poppies in this week’s world cup qualifier. Or not, if FIFA has its way.
Outrageous, I thought. The poppy is not a political symbol. It is an act of remembrance. We must defy FIFA. How dare they dictate to our footballers. Etc etc etc.
And then there was the ruling that Article 50 on Brexit cannot be triggered without the express approval of the UK Parliament.
My heart stirred again.
Damn judges interfering. Parliament voted by 6-1 to let the people decide. Democracy has had its say. Who are they to interfere. Etc etc etc.
By the way, the vitriol of some screeching newspaper headlines in response was dangerous, totalitarian nonsense.
But hold on. Is there another way of looking at these issues?
The right to wear a poppy is also the right not to wear one.
Once again our simple and beautiful personal Act of Remembrance risks becoming a row about who wears what and when.
The poppy police are out in force again. Can you seriously believe that any footballer would now dare not to wear one at the match if all his teammates are?
What about his rights? The truth is that some people choose not to wear poppies, or to wear white ones. Does that make it a political issue? If so, is FIFA right?
And what about our learned judges and Brexit?
The people should hold parliament to account, not the other way around goes the logic. My heart agreed.
But who holds the executive to account my head asked?
Our parliamentary democracy has evolved to replace the absolute rule of the monarch or their proxy, the prime minister, with important checks and balances.
It is parliament’s duty to hold the government to account, especially when it comes to the removal of constitutional rights such as EU membership. I don’t like the judges’ decision. But they have the right to make it.
Just like you cannot change the electorate if they get it wrong, neither can you replace the judges.
Our precious, hard fought, beautiful democracy is such a simple concept. It has literally been worth fighting for.
But it is not simple in practice. It throws up contradictions. It means we can’t scream at its consequences just because we don’t like them. We can’t cry foul because someone else’s beliefs clash with ours.
Democracy is about letting your heart and your head have a say. But never letting either get all its own way.
So I will wear my poppy with pride. But whether out footballers follow suit or not, We Will Remember those who fought for our right to decide for ourselves.
Talking a game
My regular reader (thanks big sis) will know that I like to try and bring a little light relief to these Monday muses. Its not all doom and gloom out there.
My great escape from the woes of the world is rugby.
Not that I play, although I did at school, adequately, a long time ago. I even refereed for a couple of seasons. I also managed the Scottish Women’s Team to a Grand Slam once.
My not so guilty pleasure is watching. I try and get my “fix” every Saturday afternoon and either watch my nearest team, Edinburgh Accies or, preferably, my beloved Heriot’s.
Our biggest rivals are Watsonians so I was naturally cock-a-hoop with our thumping demolition of them a couple of Saturdays ago.
At the game, it was great to catch up with some real legends. Iain Milne, Andy Irvine and other home team heroes were there.
But best of all was seeing Scott Hastings. He is as ardent a Watsonian as you will find.
He was therefore the perfect person to win the main raffle prize at the pre-match lunch. A kitchen apron emblazoned with the Heriot’s logo.
But since this was rugby, and not politics, he wore it with pride and posed for the cameras alongside “Baby Bear”, Kenny Milne. Two rivals, bound together by their love of the game.
Well played big fella, well played. Can’t wait for the dinner invite to see it in use.
