Part of this, of course, has to do with the series’ diegetic location. As Staci Stutsman has suggested, Parks and Rec participates in a long-standing television tradition (also seen in other media) of painting the Midwest as a land of backwards, obese, parochial nitwits.  At the same time, however, I would also suggest that it has to do with the series’ fundamental political project.  While Parks and Rec has, rightly, been lauded for its fundamentally liberal/progressive point of view and generally optimistic perspective on politics, this has always been tinted with a bit of (perhaps psuedo)-intellectual snobbery, which invites viewers to engage in the contradictory feelings of somewhat patronizing affection for the “ordinary people” of Pawnee, as well as a related feeling of head-shaking frustration at their unwillingness/inability to think critically for themselves or to be grateful to their eternally-beleaguered public servants.

One of the series’ running gags typically involves one or more of the townspeople leading the others into a rousing chant of whatever inane suggestion has been put on the table.  This has included, among many truly absurd suggestions, changing the town’s motto to focus on a man’s goldfish (Crackers, the orangest goldfish in Indiana).  The town meetings are almost inevitably full of unbridled chaos, a populist nightmare in which reason, sanity, and all of the traditional elements of good government and reasoned argument are quickly (and, it must be admitted, humorously) abandoned, leaving Leslie and her fellows shaking their heads in resigned despair.  In an interesting twist, in the final season the townspeople finally join with Leslie in her desire to call Gryzzl out for its invasion of the town’s privacy, a show of solidarity and support as shocking to Leslie as it is to us in the audience.

Nor are these good citizens susceptible only to their own chaotic desires, for the people of Pawnee are notoriously prone to the two forces that, in the populist frame of mind, almost always work against the people: big business and big media. From the successful attempt to recall Leslie (orchestrated by the business interests that she relentlessly curtailed) to the rantings of such media personalities as Joan and Purd and the increasing ubiquity of tech giant Gryzzl, fast food chain Paunch Burger, and chronic polluter and exploitative candy company Sweetums, Pawnee is a microcosm of American politics and culture writ large. While the series makes it quite clear that the corporations and media personalities bear the brunt of the blame, it also does not shy away from pointing out that the citizens of Pawnee share a measure of responsibility in their own manipulation.  The notoriously fickle and pseudo-libertarian people of the town seem to revel in their own state of exploitation; they might be exploited, but damn it, it’s because they want to be. And no government do-gooder is going to take away their right to fast food and sugary candy.

And yet, Parks and Rec is not always so condemnatory of its small-town voters. As Ben put it so memorably way back in the third season, the people of Pawnee may be weirdos, but they’re weirdos who care. Given that this series consistently validates and valorizes Leslie for precisely the type of caring that seems to be a prominent feature of so many Pawnee residents—right down to the woman who wants the slugs removed from in front of her house without killing them—this compliment crystallizes the series’ attitude toward the average American voter.  It is, in some ways, an optimistic point of view, suggesting that, given the right type of encouragement and service from their government servants and intellectual betters, the American electorate, fundamentally good-willed at heart, can be guided and encouraged to doing the right thing for everyone.

Right up until the end, Parks and Rec seems quite undecided how it wants us, its presumably educated viewers, to view the American electorate.  Do we see them as wacky yet lovable weirdos all too easily led astray by the malevolent and self-serving forces of the media and big corporations?  Even a seemingly innocuous and fun episode such as “The Johnny Karate Super Awesome Musical Explosion Show,” which showcases all of the things the series utilizes to show that there is still some good in the world—Andy’s ludic energy, April’s endearingly bizarre morbidity, Leslie’s ruthless good cheer—also features ads from Paunch Burger (encouraging people to indulge in their food or else risk being labeled a “nerd”).  And, even in an otherwise optimistic and upbeat finale, we still see a citizen of Pawnee express profound ingratitude toward Leslie and company, even after they went out of their way to fix a swingset at his request.

Yet even these signs of disquiet cannot entirely dampen the triumphant spirit that Parks and Rec leaves us with, as we celebrate with Leslie the unquenchable hope for a better and more just future, and the hope that we can all do our part to make it come to pass.

Americans might be startled by the idea of televised debates as a novelty. After all, the US electoral landscape has been shaped by these events ever since the famed clash between Nixon and Kennedy in 1960. In Britain, however, debates are seen to favor outsiders and newcomers over incumbents and have therefore long been resisted by ruling parties.

This is not necessarily because the debates unearth information that would otherwise be hidden from public view. In general, British election campaigns do not fall short on media scrutiny of the contenders. The British media are widely known for their adversarial stance to politicians, and elected representatives are accustomed to robust questioning in a variety of different arenas. The BBC, in particular, is known for inquisitorial interviewers such as Jeremy Paxman and John Humphrys, as well as for its weekly Question Time panel show which places prominent politicians before an often-antagonistic audience. If anything, observers noted that the ground rules for the debates, negotiated by the party leaders, assured an unusually civil environment, as no interruptions or audience reactions were allowed.

Most importantly, the debates included not just the leaders of the two main parties – Labour and Conservatives – but also Nick Clegg, who leads the Liberal Democrats, the third party in what is usually a two-party race. While much political reporting pays little attention to the Lib Dems, the debates provided the party with a legitimacy and visibility which proved to be crucial to the narrative of the campaign. Ever since the young and charismatic David Cameron took over as leader of the opposition Conservative Party in 2005, polls have been predicting the demise of the governing Labour Party with Gordon Brown at the helm. What nobody predicted was the rise of Nick Clegg.

Polls after the first debate, which focused on domestic politics, showed that Clegg had won convincingly, and hinted at the possibility of an astounding reversal of electoral fortunes, as the number of citizens intending to vote for the Lib Dems surged to the extent that they surpassed the ruling Labour Party in support. At the same time, the debates led to a significant increase in voter registration among 18-24 year olds. The success of the Lib Dem leader led to claims of “Cleggmania” and a prediction of a historic increase in the number of seats for the party.

These predictions, however, did not come to pass. Though Clegg did well in all three debates, the popular vote for the Lib Dems went up by just 1%, and because of the winner-takes-all electoral systems, the party actually lost 5 seats.

Nevertheless, what the debates did achieve was perhaps more fundamental: They seemed to shift citizens’ views of politics. We conducted interviews with more than 200 voters in London and Cardiff on polling day, repeating studies we’ve done in 2001 and 2009 to assess prevailing discourses on politics. Whereas our earlier studies demonstrated a predominance of “immobilizing discourses” (Wahl-Jorgensen 2001) which highlighted disgust, disenchantment and alienation, this time many voters expressed excitement about the election, because of the introduction of the debates. They said it “galvanized” voters, and “sparked people’s interest.” “It spoke to the things I was interested in, so I felt it gave me the information I needed,” one voter observed. Some complained about how the debates represented “personality politics” and “Americanization”, but even these interviewees enjoyed the debates. This excitement translated into electoral participation: turnout was up to 65.1%, from 61.4% in 2005. Some areas reported increases of up to 17% in the number of young people voting.

In the end, the debates may not have altered the outcome of the elections, but they did change voters’ views of them. They made politics exciting again, embodying the possibility for change that democracy should be all about.