Imagine this for just a second. It’s polling day. You have your polling card in your pocket, and you’ve brought some identification, just in case. But when you get to the polling station, there’s a big burly guy blocking your way in. There’s a bulge under his jacket that looks suspiciously like a gun in a holster.
“You don’t need to come in here,” he says. “It’s ok. You can go home, have a cup of tea. We’ll make the decision for you and fill in your ballot paper. You’re not needed.”
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