There is a growing assumption, almost a conviction now, that the chair of an electoral umpire should have no political history at all, no past, no trace, and no future leaning after holding the position. The assumption rests on a seductive idea: that somewhere out there exist people like academics, technocrats, or civil servants who can be neutral entirely, untouched by bias, as if neutrality were a lab coat you wear and remove.
This is quite simplistic, and it dismisses a basic human tendency: we hold feelings, admiration, soft spots, even for personalities we have never met or connected with naturally. Political psychologists have long shown that affective ties to leaders form through media, narrative, and symbolic identification, not just personal contact. Like celebrities, politicians, or public figures, they naturally inspire admiration or influence. To expect that a neutral person is someone possibly stripped of feelings, sensibility, judgment, perception, likeness, or dislike is to misunderstand what it means to be human. As Max Weber warned, the ideal of a value-free bureaucrat is an aspiration, not a reality, because interpretation always sits behind procedure.
In essence, what may differentiate a neutral actor from a supporter is often just a thin line of active participation. Partisanship is what a supporter wears as a symbol of loyalty and faithfulness, while a neutral person may not have such an obligation to display. But the inner weather of preference can exist in both. Public administration scholars note this as the “myth of the neutral competence”, the belief that technical skill erases personal orientation. Empirical studies of election management bodies globally show that perceived impartiality is driven less by an umpire’s blank biography and more by institutional checks, transparency, and the consistency of their decisions under pressure.
After all, in every election, citizens are expected to hold political opinions, go out to vote for their preferred candidate, and even be free to express their views privately or otherwise about why the preferred candidate is the best among others. That cannot be called neutrality in absolute terms. If we demand total blankness from an umpire while celebrating opinion in the citizen, we create a paradox: we ask the referee to have no sense of the game. The behavioral theory of organizations reminds us that discretion never disappears; it is only guided or constrained by rules and accountability.
Responsibility often has a way of moderating and self-censoring. Hence, what Prof. Jega did as ASUU chairman, or what Prof. Mahmood Yakubu does after he leaves INEC, should matter less than what each does during their tenure of office. Role theory explains this shift: the office imposes scripts that temper private disposition, because performance is now public, audited, and consequential. For one, Prof. Attahiru Jega had an outstanding record of an uncompromising stance as ASUU chairman, only to disappoint some people during the 2011 elections and impress others during the 2015 elections. That swing shows that integrity or perception should not constitute a rigid standard for judging outcomes. It shows that neutrality is not a fixed trait but a practice renewed under scrutiny.
In any case, people deserve the benefit of the doubt. Let us sheath our swords and allow the electoral process to go on without heating up the polity. Because if we insist on a saint with no past, we may end up with no one at all, and miss the chance to build institutions strong enough to hold any human who sits in the chair.
Bagudu can be reached via bagudumohammed15197@gmail.com or 07034943575.
