PN comparisons are not odious

At this stage of the leadership race, the Nationalist Party has reason to be pleased with its much-criticised rules of engagement.

Tonight, the first debate shall be broadcast but, until now, the rules have forbidden either candidate from debating or even referring critically to his opponent. The immediate effect has been to give the PN a respite from its fractious image.

Yet, there has also been a cost.

The PN has been the first major Maltese party to experience serious dissent in the age of social media. Before that, party bosses controlled access to the party newspapers, TV and radio; undisciplined critics could be frozen out. Social media have destroyed that control.

But the leadership election rules have catalysed a change. Instead of binding only the contenders, a quasi-consensus has emerged that the rules should constrain even PN supporters when opining online.

If a known PN sympathiser posts something critical of one of the candidates, a flock of PN voters gather to criticise the very act of criticism, as though it’s a threat to party unity beyond voting day on September 6.

No sanctions penalise the critic. It’s just conventional wisdom, group disapproval and self-censorship: a candidate may be promoted but his rival may not be criticised; the party must emerge unified from the contest, with no wounds to heal.

The benefits of this new-found self-discipline are obvious. But there are costs as well.

One is a trap that lies beyond the race. There’s a very thin line between exercising public restraint and refraining even from internal criticism. The second is misguided and could endanger the PN’s outreach beyond its core.

As both Adrian Delia and Alex Borg remind their listeners, the moment the race is over, the PN shall have to switch to election mode, since it expects a snap general election within months. Once more, message-discipline will be expected.

But a campaign message is one thing; the process that leads to policy decisions and outreach is another. Choir-singing is an asset in the first; argument and discordant notes are necessary for the second.

Without vigorous argument, no political party can correct mistakes and reach out beyond its conventional boundaries. Without internal criticism, you have a sect. General-election voters will take note.

Both Delia and Borg understand this well. Delia says that he’s learned to pay particular attention to the silent people in the room and to encourage them to voice their concerns. But, for people to speak up, the current taboo on criticism needs to be relaxed. Otherwise, what began as a self-protective rule will end up being self-sabotaging.

Before we get to the post-leadership-election phase, there is the campaign itself. Here, the de facto rules of social engagement – or, rather, disengagement – have come at the cost of the quality of discussion of the relative merits of the contenders.

It has a strange airy-fairy quality. The supposed strengths of one candidate are never compared with those of the other. In place of comparison, there is the ritual announcement that both would make good leaders and that, whatever the result, both should be involved in the party leadership. The outcome: discussion in a vacuum.

It is a myth that the ideal voter makes up their mind in reflective solitude, while shielded from the thoughts of others- Ranier Fsadni

Take the issue of the youth vote. The PN continued to win every general election (but one) over a 26-year period partly because, up to 2008, it managed to win some 60 per cent of the first-time voters, which made up for the votes lost to people fed up of PN hubris.

But the youth vote was won by a combination of vision, policies, narrative and campaign strategy – not because of the age of the leader.

Eddie Fenech Adami was 69 in his last general election; Lawrence Gonzi was 54 in 2008. It was the promise of the EU that won the former and Gonzi’s combination of competence, optimism and good humour that won it in 2008 (an image Joseph Muscat then destroyed within two years).

Fast-forward to 2025. A rational evaluation would seek a critical comparison of Delia and Borg, ticking the boxes. Whose vision appeals more to youth? Who is more capable of adapting his rhetorical style to the relevant media?

Instead, the debate among PN members on social media is stuck discussing age (as though young voters vote mechanically for people closer to their age) and surveys whose results are meaningless (since they are open to wildly different interpretations). Magical thinking has largely replaced critical thinking.

There is a strong case that Delia is better placed to attract the youth vote. His policy proposals add up to a coherent vision of spatial and environmental justice – issues that are important for youth.

His rhetorical style – blending quick-witted repartee, personal anecdote and statistics – reflects the forms developed by social media influencers on X (formerly Twitter) and YouTube. It is ideal for both long-form podcasts and the clips, soundbites and highlights that emerge from them.

What about Borg? He has chosen a different campaign style – modelled on the enthusing fitness coach – which is earnest, joke-free and repetitive. He’s policy-lite; the rhetoric could be from 2008. But does this reflect his personal limitations or a deliberate decision based on the age of his electorate?

Hopefully, the debate tonight will give more clarity. However, a debate without open comparison by its members loses half its value.

It is a myth that the ideal voter makes up their mind in reflective solitude, while shielded from the thoughts of others.

The truth is we often discover what we really think in conversation. The PN owes itself a good one.