Into the void

Democracy and the death of mass politics

Featured in

  • Published 20240806
  • ISBN: 978-1-922212-98-6 
  • Extent: 216pp
  • Paperback, ePUB, PDF

THERE REALLY SHOULD be a German word for it – maybe there is: when you know something should shock you, but it just doesn’t anymore. You’ve become desensitised. In politics, this feeling has become increasingly familiar. Over the past few years, all that was thought solid has melted into air – hot air in most cases. 

The first sign of serious political climate change arrived in June 2016 when a majority of Britons voted for Brexit, giving the proverbial two-fingered salute to almost the entire British political class. This was a huge surprise from which British politics is arguably yet to recover. But when later that year in the US presidential elections Donald Trump, a boorish, self-aggrandising businessman with a penchant for lying, defeated Hillary Clinton, doyenne of the American political establishment, the shockwave that rippled through newsrooms and political-science departments could have triggered seismometers. Hardly anyone predicted the outcome, but there it was. Decades of political convention were upended.

Already a subscriber? Sign in here

If you are an educator or student wishing to access content for study purposes please contact us at griffithreview@griffith.edu.au

Share article

About the author

Shahar Hameiri

Shahar Hameiri is Professor of International Politics and Australian Research Council Future Fellow in the School of Political Science and International Studies, University of...

More from this edition

Finding the right phenotype

Non-fictionAs a recently diagnosed transgender person, I was already part of a highly online, over-educated and underemployed cohort, routinely blamed for stifling free speech as well as both maintaining the gender binary and destroying it. The alt-right discourse was already aflame, decrying the social scourge of everyone wanting to be seen as a ‘special snowflake’ and the creeping ‘politics of victimhood’. Did I really need to inhabit a second suspect identity? Did I need another personal attribute I felt deeply ambivalent about to become a public part of my persona?

New shoes

FictionThis is where I work: the kind of sneaker store that stocks shoes with the names of famous American rappers or athletes. The kind of sneaker store with plywood everywhere and hip-hop and young staff who look like customers except for their fluoro lanyards.  Tomorrow a famous American basketballer will drop his new line of shoes.  At our morning catch-up, Corrine reads out a list of names. It’s the staff who have pre-paid for the shoes. I am on the list, and Jules and Ruby are too. Corrine reminds us that this is a ‘privilege’ for staff.

Radioactive fallout

Non-fictionThe quake lasted six minutes – the office floor jolted convulsively; metal shelves rattled, files fell with a cacophony of thuds, and the structure of the building seemed to be squeaking. And then it stopped. My office building hadn’t collapsed. Neither had our apartment; my husband and son weren’t hurt. But it wasn’t the end. The Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant had lost power, which was required to cool both the reactors and spent fuel rods. The government was braced for the worst: massive explosions or core meltdowns. A nuclear emergency was declared at 7.03 pm.

Stay up to date with the latest, news, articles and special offers from Griffith Review.