It’s customary during election campaigns for politicians to hit the streets. They will meet “ordinary” people on the doorstep, feel their pain, or be heartened by their random stories of success. Prospective parliamentarians will put up with the occasional slammed door if the hard yards translate to votes on polling day.
Decent constituency MPs (there are some) will say that all this is nothing but an extension of their usual work, getting out and about to meet the people they represent. But it’s hard sometimes not to feel that in many cases, MPs don’t so much get out of the Westminster bubble as bring it with them wherever they go. And it means they are still viewing everything through the same filter.
Not long ago, I found myself in Watford for a meeting. I know the town a bit, having shopped occasionally for big ticket items in the Harlequin Shopping Centre (now rebranded as the Intu Watford), and been stranded frequently at Watford Junction station when electrical faults, leaves and the like have caused the main line from Euston to grind to a halt.
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