On March 20 Tasmanian voters can change the government by voting Labor.

That’s right. That wasn’t a typo.

Here’s how:

On the mainland a party will preselect a candidate to run in a single-member state electorate.

If that person happens to be some crusty old time-server, a relic from the 1960s, that’s too bad for you. If you want to vote for that party, you’re stuck with that person. Mainland voters therefore can support the party’s choice or vote for a candidate from another party. It’s one or the other, there is no middle ground.

Here in Tasmania it’s different. Our five state seats are multi-member and, just as importantly, how-to-vote tickets are banned. Parties seek to maximise votes in each electorate by running “teams” of candidates that generally consist of the party’s incumbent MPs and new people.

Generally speaking Labor and the Liberals run five candidates in every seat. Three is the most they can expect to be elected. It’s usually two and sometimes one.

If it sounds familiar that’s because it’s like a Senate ballot, with one crucial difference — there is no “ticket” with favoured candidates in top “winnable” positions and cannon-fodder making up the list further below. And certainly no “vote 1 above the line”.

In Tasmania’s Hare-Clark system every candidate technically has an equal chance of being elected (with positions on ballot papers rotated to prevent electorate-wide donkey votes). And what that means is candidates compete against other parties’ candidates and their own teammates for your No.1 vote.

In the state seat of Denison, for example, Labor voters will see on their ballot papers David Bartlett, Madeleine Ogilive, Scott Bacon, Lisa Singh and Graeme Sturges but will have no how-to-vote card suggesting in what order they should place them. It is entirely up to the voter.

In public the five Labor candidates are a team. Behind the scenes each scrambles to ensure they don’t end up in unwinnable fourth and fifth spots or the shaky third spot.

Candidates seek to convince their party’s supporters to vote for them ahead of other candidates from the same party, while also seeking to convert voters leaning towards other parties.

How well candidates do depends on their public appeal (or notoriety), name recognition and good old-fashioned door-knocking. Little wonder that Kim Beazley, a political junkie if ever there was one, remarked three years ago at the North Hobart football club that he loved Tasmania at election time because, festooned with posters, banners and balloons it was one of the most political places on the planet, where everyone had an opinion and all were willing to proclaim tribal loyalties.

Despite a strong economy and upbeat business confidence there’s no doubt that after 12 years of Labor government there’s a mood for change in the electorate. The trouble for the Liberals is, despite their Obamaesque “Real Change” slogan, they haven’t articulated how a change to them will benefit voters.

After all, the things that have caused Labor’s reputation the most damage are its handling of the pulp mill and water and sewerage reforms — and both were strongly backed by the Liberals. A vote for the Liberals would change neither.

Therefore, those wanting a change of government without changing the government may find a closer examination of Labor’s younger, newer cadre of candidates, who are standing against some of the party’s old guard, could offer the fresh approach they’re seeking, without the risk of a slash-and-burn Liberal government.