A miserly democracy is a miserable one; robust democracies cost money. A representative democracy is living a lie if half its population only features as 15 per cent of its House of Representatives.
I like the aim of the gender parity bill, passed last week, and I’m unbothered by its expense. It introduces a mechanism that kicks into effect at the next general election. It’s expected to add a dozen women MPs (six Labour, six Nationalist) above the 65 MPs elected according to the usual procedure.
But I don’t think we’re being given the underlying story straight.
Ramona Attard, the president of the Labour Party, says that, had the bill not passed, we would have seen a repeat – in terms of women elected to parliament – of the 2017 general election. But the total proportion of women MPs is not the whole story of that election.
Four out of 11 Labour women candidates were elected. That’s one out of three. Men did better since one in two were elected (in a Labour landslide) but the gap isn’t great. If you want to explain why Labour had only four women MPs elected, you should start with the choice that voters had: a list of candidates with roughly six men for every woman.
The PN was buried in that election. Yet, it elected more women MPs: six. More enlightened voters? Who knows? What we do know is that, nationally, voters had a better mix of candidates: one woman for every three men.
The PN elected more women even though its female candidates had a lower chance of being elected than a female Labour candidate. A Nationalist woman only had a 20 per cent chance compared with a Labour woman’s 33 per cent (taking the respective candidate lists as a whole).
The bill is touted as addressing prejudice in the voting booth. Yet, it’s clear the problem begins with the supply of candidates by the political parties themselves. The political parties should fess up.
I realise the problem is more complicated. Even when they try hard, political parties do genuinely have difficulty in attracting women candidates.
Doing the right thing for gender parity, though, involves recognising that women are disadvantaged for reasons that don’t have to do with gender as such.
How do women win a seat in parliament? It helps if they already have one. Incumbents, men and women, have inbuilt advantages: an electoral machine, funds and experience.
If you’re not already an MP, being mayor of a large town is a good springboard. So is a prominent role in the media, particularly your own party’s media.
And coming from a politically involved family (in-laws included) obviously helps. You don’t have to ‘inherit’ your seat. Coming from a family of canvassers isn’t bad, either.
Yes, Miriam Dalli, Julia Farrugia Portelli, Rosianne Cutajar: I’m looking at you. Though I could also look at Claudette Buttigieg, Maria Deguara and others.
Yes, society does have a gender bias that would be challenged by seeing more women in parliament- Ranier Fsadni
I’m not denouncing the system. I’m describing its resources. Even here, men have better access. But it’s clear political parties could do a lot more in granting better access to women.
Dalli says the system needs a “shock” and that the “progressive” government she’s part of had to deliver – to give people role models.
Put aside the easy quips about how her sleaze-ridden and scandal-bitten government has already delivered enough shocks to our political system. Its claim to offer role models is, shall we say, ambitious.
It’s Dalli’s own government that has greatly strengthened the system that privileges incumbent MPs, most of them male. It has given great resources to its own MPs: two-thirds of them are ministers and most backbenchers have plum executive posts and resources.
It’s become greatly more difficult for new Labour women candidates to challenge their male incumbent colleagues at a general election. We can be sure these male candidates will not shy away from telling voters that the women candidates don’t really need the votes because, under the new system, they’ll be elected anyway.
Besides, Dalli’s side voted against the opposition amendment that would have increased the chances of women MPs being considered for cabinet roles. Labour also voted down an amendment to make it possible for women candidates of small parties to benefit from this law.
You have to wonder, therefore, if the new law will really be a shock to the system. Is it rather the system taking care of itself, changing a little so that things can remain fundamentally the same?
Therese Comodini Cachia has been more candid about what the game is. She doesn’t expect the law to change the incentives for women to run for office. The incentives depend on other things.
In practice, the structures and proceedings of parliament and political parties are stacked against women’s participation. Women need more organised support to be able to access the system’s resources. And, yes, society does have a gender bias that would be challenged by seeing more women in parliament.
If I read Comodini Cachia right, what she’s really saying is this. The problem is indeed about getting women on the candidate lists. For that to happen, parliament and political parties need to reform themselves. The male politicians, however, have proven they will never undertake the necessary reforms on their own.
The solution lies, therefore, in getting enough women into parliament to get those reforms debated and passed.
In short, the law is really the result of an unholy alliance between unreconstructed MPs, thinking they’re saving their skins, and feminists with a cunning plan to roast them.
See? I told you it would feel better to be told the truth.