Workington Man will decide this election, according to the Conservative party think-tank, Onward.

Apparently, no women live in Workington, or if they do their voice doesn’t count.

These labels always slip between gruesome condescension and downright stupidity. In this instance, it would be understandable if the people of Workington resented being stereotyped by Onward as rugby league-loving men who live along the M62 corridor and might just vote Tory.

Well, corridors have doors and perhaps those doors will slam shut.

Workington Town put out a statement saying they wouldn’t be responding to all the media requests coming in for comments on “Workington Man”, saying they were an apolitical club.

Incidentally, Onward describes itself as “a powerful ideas factory for centre-right thinkers and leaders”, which perhaps is all you need to know. I have no idea what an ideas factory looks like but suspect it’s all meetings and no smoke coming from chimneys.

Thanks to Miranda Green in yesterday’s Financial Times for reminding me about another lost tribe – Pebbledash People. They were going to swing the 2001 election for Tory hopeful William Hague. His strategists calculated that some 2.5m people lived in pebbledash 1930s semi-detached houses in marginal seats.

You can have as many strategies as you like, but it doesn’t mean they’ll be any good. Hague lost that election and Tony Blair was returned with a landslide majority.

Other voting-intention groups have included Mondeo Man and Sierra Man – both now sounding as dated as the cars that attended their christenings.

But Pebbledash People must rank as the least successful political grouping of all. Back then, we lived in an Edwardian terrace and remained free of political assumptions based on vertical adornment to the front of our house. Funnily enough, we now live in a 1925 semi with a spot of pebbledash out front, so if you want to call me Pebbledash Semi Man That Could Do With A Spot of Work, that’s fine by me (it’s the house that needs smartening, not me – unless it’s a particularly lax day).

Anyway, I am glad to be reminded that the Pebbledash People did for William Hague and like to imagine that they pelted him with pebbles borrowed from the front of their houses.

These groupings are not only condescending, they are also old-fashioned and generally based on notions of how people used to vote. They don’t speak to the whole country but pay homage to the shabby idea that pandering to clusters of swing voters will win you the election.

But at this Christmas election, we are all swing voters now. Either that or to a man and woman we belong to the Oh Piss Off With Your Election It’s Nearly Christmas Party.

Early presents of a dubious nature will be shoved under the tree soon. Boris Johnson’s elves are no doubt already busy wrapping up lies and shoving into stockings the latest issue Tory-issue myths and exaggerations.

Jeremy Corbyn is dusting off his Socialist Santa outfit. And, you know, it’s a good look and at least he believes in what he says; whether he can deliver any of those parcels is another matter.

Oh, go on, if you insist, here too is Lib-Dem leader Jo Swinson, swearing that she ain’t gonna help no such Santa, and telling everyone she can win and become prime minister all by herself.

According to a Huffington Post article by Paul Waugh, Swinson is following what her advisers term a “bicep kissing strategy”. I am guessing this refers to kissing her own biceps as a show of strength and self-belief, although frankly I have no idea what goes on at those Lib-Dem parties.

That unusual strategy, according to Waugh, is to “make big, bold claims about how tremendously you’re going to do, in order to convince the public that it’s possible”.

Perhaps we should all club together and buy Swinson a video of David Steel’s speech as Liberal leader in 1981. It’s very long and boring, but it ended with words that have never been forgotten ­– “Go back to your constituencies and prepare for government”.

Spoiler alert, that didn’t happen.