Political rallies are on the rise. People are on the move and the destination is Canberra. That is a good thing. Democracy means more than just casting your vote. No one should object to citizens becoming more active.
The relatively small Convoy of No Confidence descended on Canberra from rural Australia last week to rally in support of country interests generally, against the ban on live cattle exports, the carbon tax and a whole catalogue of the Labor Government's alleged sins.
There are alternative democratic options. What can rallies do that voting or focus groups and public opinion polls can't? What can citizens achieve by travelling to Canberra that they can't achieve by going to see their elected representatives in their local electorate offices?
First, the rallies are cathartic, even a bit of fun, for those involved. They enable participants to let off steam and to release their frustrations. Liberal Senator Chris Back from Western Australia said of the convoy idea that it was 'driven by sheer frustration' that those involved are not being heard. Whether they are or not is not the point; they don't believe that they are.
Importantly such supporters are given something much more active to do than the parliamentary system generally allows. This is a welcome change. Inside the Parliament House chambers the rules strictly specify that citizens may be seen but not heard. Even outside the building and on the lawns there are strict rules and permissions to be obtained by any group wanting to stage a rally.
Action is something that both the old and new social movements have always relied upon to invigorate supporters. It beats attending a dry party branch meeting in order to get a motion passed.
Secondly, the rallies offer a collective voice. One pamphlet emphasised that 'it's crowds that talk'. That doesn't mean they necessarily represent a majority voice; minorities can organise a good demonstration too. But they enable individuals to magnify their voice. The downside is that people sometimes do and say things in groups that they have the good sense to avoid as individuals.
Thirdly, the rallies try to influence the politicians gathered inside Parliament House. Most rallies try to appeal to politicians' self-interest. They want politicians to be afraid of losing their seats. The National Marriage Day organisers, for instance, warned all politicians not to take them lightly and pointed to the success of a previous rally in 2004.
They try to seduce ministers and shadow ministers into making commitments. Those momentary lapses can then be used repeatedly in subsequent political argument and in election campaigns.
Fourthly, rallies attract media attention, often, like the recent convoy, beyond what they numerically deserve. Their colorfulness is always more attractive to the media than a quieter, more private event. If the rally can generate a counter-rally leading to harsh words being exchanged by participants then so much the better for the media.
Finally, they demonstrate intensity of commitment. This is an often forgotten element of politics. Those who participate in rallies may make efforts above and beyond the so-called passive 'silent majority'. They leverage their numbers and try to multiply their impact.
Senator Back said of the convoy members: 'Everyone will be making a significant sacrifice in terms of time, money and energy.' Rally-goers hope that intensity will impress the rest of the community, therefore advancing their cause directly and indirectly with Government and Opposition.
Detailed analysis of those who participate in rallies is rare. But MPs make their own judgments. Many rallies contain lots of true believers with predictable political commitments. In other words they are the usual suspects.
The ones that really make governments sit up and take notice are those that contain not just rusted on party supporters, as some of the organisers are, but people who really are considering changing their vote; that means not just changing from how they voted in 1972 or 1983 but from the Gillard-Abbott election in 2010.
John Warhurst is an Emeritus Professor of Political Science at the Australian National University and a columnist with The Canberra Times.