“You’ll get the gay vote, not mine!”

This was the comment of an anonymous reader of the French daily Le Figaro to Sunday’s news that the deputy of the right-wing opposition UMP party would not repeal France’s same-sex marriage law should the Right return to power in 2017.

Admittedly, looking for pro-same-sex marriage comments on Le Figaro is a like looking for pro-Israel comments on The Guardian, but the ease with which such comments are expressed illustrates a key difference between France and Britain regarding the same-sex marriage debate. Unlike us, the French have actually held it.

Such a reaction isn’t unexpected. Anyone following the debate across the Channel will know that the proposals have sparked the largest and most sustained campaign of opposition and demonstrations over a social issue since the landmark decision of Mitterand’s Socialist government to abolish the death penalty in 1981. Needless to say, the Right have responded with exaggeration and scaremongering, and the curious Frigide Barjot has proven a bafflingly effective populist leader for disaffected conservatives.

Parallel events in this country couldn’t be more different. On Monday Labour and government ministers reached an agreement to block the amendment regarding the extension of civil partnership legislation to opposite-sex couples, which was only tabled to delay the Bill as a whole until the next parliament. The votes, 375 against to 70 in favour, show the strength of cross-party consensus to press ahead with same-sex marriage legislation, even if backbench Conservatives are proving fractious. On Tuesday, the Commons approved the Bill with a majority of 205. This is fantastic news, and illustrates real determination among party leaders to press forward. But we need to reframe the question: why have those in the media opposing the legislation failed so utterly to put up a convincing fight?

Outside the Daily Mail, near-unanimous support for the measure among the mainstream media and political establishment fails to reflect the very real concerns some people have about the legislation. This is partly a cultural consideration: British people are simply happier to leave people’s private business behind closed doors. Consequently, that is how we like our politics, with the result that the politically correct viewpoint tends to monopolize all talk on an issue. You will very rarely hear a same-sex marriage debate over the dinner-table, on a bus or at the hairdresser’s, but discussing politics with all and sundry is a distinct feature of French political life.

Active debate encourages active political participation, and realigns political parties with their voter bases. Backroom deals, even those honourably undertaken, do not encourage people’s faith in representative democracy.

Marginalisation of the opposition by calling any clergy who speak out against the proposals as ‘paedophile priests’ in a knee-jerk reaction is reflective of our refusal to engage in a real debate. Yet this failure is not just the Left’s. Right-wing commentators like Richard Littlejohn relentlessly focus on the notion that, in the current economic climate, Cameron’s priorities should be on kick-starting the economy rather than enacting ‘pet project’ social legislation in a “quasi-religious” manner. Nowhere here does he attempt to debate the rationale behind the legislation. Some, like Peter Hitchens, go even further, inexplicably refusing to treat the question because they consider argument as a “trap” designed to lure conservatives into expressing politically incorrect opinions with which they can be later attacked. Why be a commentator and refuse to argue the case for one’s views? His failure on this count encapsulates the wider problem.

Debate reflects belief in our ability to change political outcomes. Hitchens has quite openly lost that belief, but his resignation compounds, rather than alleviates, the inevitable result that voters and their political leaders diverge further and further from each other on key social issues. Gordon Brown’s dismissal of the concerns of vast parts of his voter base during the ‘bigotgate’ controversy reflects this trend, and that it is even conceivable a Feldman could allegedly dismiss Conservative party activists as ‘swivel-eyed loons’ demonstrates this is a cross-party problem.

In France, the issue has been clear cut:  those opposed to the legislation have forced the UMP to oppose it unequivocally themselves. As much as I disagree with them, their position is reflective of a healthy engagement between party and voter base that this country has lacked for years. ‘Swivel-eyed loons’ and grassroots Conservative dissent at same-sex marriage are the latest manifestations of this broader trend.

The real issue is not that fringe parties will gain unprecedented levels of support at future elections: first past the post stops that, and hence denies those parties legitimacy in the process. It is the lack of representative political discourse combined with first past the post which prevents a sense of political engagement among vast swathes of people who would otherwise be interested. Whether it is Gillian Duffy, opposed to mass immigration in safe Labour seats, or those opposed to same-sex marriage in safe Tory constituencies, such people cannot be but further alienated from the democratic system supposed to represent them when the parties they vote for consistently oppose their views. If 2011 showed us that changes to our voting system remain a pipe-dream for those in favour of reform, at the very least we need to overcome our very British reservations about discussing politics with our neighbours if our national political discourse is to have any semblance of being an accurate reflection of people’s very trenchant private opinions.

Our political leaders can take our votes for granted because we let them.