Another email drops into the inbox of The Voice from A Liberal Democrat Organiser Who Wishes To Remain Anonymous. You can catch up with the cheeky chappy’s earlier offerings by clicking HERE.

The interviewer looks at me over his clipboard, rather sternly. “Tell me – this role requires the candidate to be able to be apolitical, to take a neutral stance to better further the aims of our organisation. Given your background, how would you ensure you achieved this?”

The interviewer has a point. I attempt to look like someone who doesn’t think the Tories are the footsoldiers of Satan, and end up looking slightly deranged. “Working in politics has given me a very clear sense of how language is politicised to serve various causes. In many respects I would be able to reverse what I have learned for this role, to ensure that my efforts were dedicated towards furthering the organisation’s objectives, rather than political goals.”

Meaningless pap, of course. Most pressure groups are under the rather bizarre illusion that what they do is in some way apolitical, even though it’s all to do with how power should be exercised. As though the political sphere ends where the parties begin! The interface of political parties with the public is what politics is all about, and pressure groups – being ostensibly caught in the middle of that – are the most political thing you can do without actually joining a party.

However, an interview is not the place to argue the toss about that sort of thing, and so I did not. Regardless of my answer, though, I fell victim to the same trap that always seems to crop up when applying for this sort of role – although they were happy with my experience and skills, they felt I would’ve been too biased to be effective. To be fair, I can’t claim that I wouldn’t have had a cold clenching sensation in the pit of my stomach whenever I had to listen to a Labour member talk about all the wonderful work they’d done in deciding how peoples’ lives should be run, but I feel that wouldn’t necessary affect my behaviour. Maybe.

This brings me to my point: the role of an Organiser is one that is very difficult to escape from. I know from anecdotal discussions with my colleagues that this is a common factor across people trying to leave the role – not simply because we’re perceived as too political, but because the role itself is so different to anything outside politics that it defies easy summary. Employers simply don’t know what we are, like some sort of externalised existential angst in which you’re very certain of your own identity but no-one else is. This has been true before the recession, and will be true after. And during, even more so.

Looking for advancement within the party structure itself is largely an exercise in futility – there are too few regional organiser positions to make them a meaningful goal for the vast majority of organisers, and for those that do come up a particular person is typically ‘invited’ to apply in any case.

This wouldn’t necessarily be a problem if the role didn’t require working extremely long hours for very low pay. As it is, we have a position that:
(a) Involves working nearly as hard as a stockbroker for approximately 5% of the reward;
(b) Is ‘political’, so is ironically unhelpful to those of us seeking an elected position as it’s not a ‘real job’ – quite how many ‘real jobs’ involve working 70 hour weeks is anyone’s guess, but such is the world;
(c) Has very little prospect of internal advancement, and actively hampers efforts to gain work outside the party.

So why then be an organiser? To be fair, the role itself is very rewarding in terms of the perspective it supplies on local and national politics, but much the same can be garnered from simply volunteering for your local party while holding down a different job. You will meet many wonderful people, and gain an very broad understanding of how our political system works – but the role is not unique in that. There’s also the fact that very little beats the thrill of being in charge of an election campaign.

Regardless, however, the fact that the role as it’s currently constructed is going nowhere in terms of advancement and financial reward means that there is no reason for anyone to do it, beyond a sense of loyalty and service to the party. And forgive me if I speak out of line, but that’s simply not good enough.

I would therefore urge anyone considering applying for an organiser position not to do so, until the role is reformed to include at least steps toward the following:

(1) A guaranteed annual pay rise, no matter how meagre. There is currently no reason why it’s worth an organiser’s while to stay beyond a year, as a year is sufficient to garner all the experience that one can do so from the position. The role itself takes a toll; I know at least one organiser who has been doing it for a few years now and is at the point where they survive exclusively on cigarettes and whiskey.

(2) Additional provision for training within the party that’s not necessarily related to role itself, to ensure that organisers have as wide a skill base as possible when the time comes for them to leave.
These steps won’t be earth-shattering, but they would make the role at least a useful stepping-stone, rather than the blank wall it is right now. They’re changes that need to happen, otherwise the party will continue to bleed trained staff and to demoralise the ones it has now.