Mary Dejevsky: It's still TV, not the internet, that really matters in elections

Upwards of 50 million Americans were expected to watch the encounter between John McCain and Barack Obama last night in the second of three presidential debates. Last Thursday a record 70 million saw Sarah Palin fail to disgrace herself in the obligatory running-mates match.

And in homes, halls and bars across America, how did people watch this crucial rite of presidential passage? On television. These debates are almost the only times – other than the Super Bowl – that so many Americans can be found doing exactly the same thing at the same time, sharing an experience they will mull over the following day.

I make this point because, ever since the internet took off as a tool of – well, let's be generous – universal communication, I have heard countless politicians and pundits insist, at length and in highly technical detail, that the internet is the future of politics. They argue not only that it is transforming US elections, but that the same is bound to happen in Britain.

The case was first made during the epic US election of 2000, the one you may recall in which Al Gore apocryphally boasted that he had invented the internet. We heard it again four years later, when Howard Dean achieved a wondrous opening spurt that was attributed almost entirely to his use of the internet. And how many times have we been told all over again this year, that Barack Obama owes his emergence – and eventual victory, perhaps – to his savvy command of, yes, the internet.

Yet most of this is technophilic hype. There are two quite limited ways in which the internet has an impact, though not necessarily a transforming one, on electoral politics. The first is quite specific to the United States and concerns fund-raising. Candidates can use the internet to solicit the financial support of individuals – small contributors who might not have bothered before. It is much easier and cheaper than direct mailing, and doubtless vastly more effective than cold-calling.

Nonetheless its usefulness can be exaggerated. The more we learn about Mr Obama's fund-raising, the more conventionally reliant on big donors it appears to be. Small contributions give the candidate and his supporters a warm feeling; they may generate goodwill in the early stages, but they (still) do not bankroll a future US President. Nor does this fund-raising use of the internet travel. There is no democratic election anywhere in the world in which money plays such a decisive role as the race for US president. Unless the culture and rules of British elections change substantially, the money-raising capacity of the internet will never be a factor here.

The other potentially transforming function of the internet is gaffe-exposure. Remember Howard Dean's fatal scream? A candidate's mistake can have circulated the internet many times before the damage-limiters have even booted up. But the internet is not the sole purveyor of gaffes. Mobile phones and television facilitate this just as well, while TV satire can be just as destructive. With Mrs Palin, you could argue, it was the straight interviews with US television networks that did the damage. These supplied much of the primary source material for the satirists.

So why has the internet been hailed as the all-conquering electoral medium of the future? In part, because campaign organisations hold the vast reach of the internet in awe and count the number of "hits" to their websites as evidence of the breadth of interest – and of their candidate's appeal. The flaw here is that many of those looking up a candidate's website are seeking information, much as they would from a brochure. You can find details, for instance, of candidates' rallies. But you can find the same information, sometimes more easily, in the local paper.

The greater error, though, is to regard the internet as a uniquely effective instrument of mass outreach. Those who seek out a political website of any complexion have first to be interested and moderately well informed. Where the internet excels is less in broadening opinion than in preaching to, and comforting, the converted. Its capacity to garner new voters and convince waverers is quite limited. Political gossip and blogging sites, to be sure, abound, but they consist largely of those with like-minded preoccupations – and prejudices – talking to each other.

The glorious, and neglected, truth about this US election is how far the campaign has been conducted, in time-honoured fashion, in the diners and sports stadiums of real America. And – as last night – on the screen watched by the whole family in the living room.

m.dejevsky@independent.co.uk

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