In the end, it boils down to this: do we want the UK to be a hopeful country or one scared of what lies beyond? I land on this stark question because arguments about everything else have reached stalemate. But a lot of us seem unable to make that one final decision, who to vote for, because we don’t want to be let down one more time. We’ve had enough, they’re all as bad as each other, a plague on all their beautifully maintained houses. It’s a chorus of negativism that’s so easy to join. I urge you not to join it.

I urge you to get out and vote. I’m convinced at this election your vote can be more powerful than it has been in a long time. Can be, not will be. There’s a lot of uncertainty and confusion, because we’re poised between two scenarios we could wake up to on 8 May.

One of them is the politics of exclusion and fear. It’s of an alliance or even an informal understanding between Conservatives and Ukip, two parties that claim to be unionist but which have been campaigning by stoking English resentment towards Scottish voters choosing SNP. It’s a short-term tactic that could do lasting damage to the union and fuel future extremism. It is, unfortunately, not a one-off operation, but an instinctive act typical of their common politics. I would define the Conservative/Ukip default as exclusive, rather than inclusive. By this, I mean that every policy is designed to appeal to the personal, and exclusively personal, interests of the voter, at the exclusion of all else.

So they say: “You will be better off. If we save any money, you will get it back. You will be left alone. You will not be hassled by those around you.” It all sounds marvellous and appealing, but soon grows into an urge for you to ignore the demands of the wider world, the society around you, your neighbours, those you don’t know but who you sense are less fortunate. It says to you: “Look, we know there’s a lot wrong in the world, but we have to be realistic. We can only do so much. So let’s sort ourselves out, let’s sort you out and stop it there. Let’s just concentrate on what matters, which is you, and you alone.”

And so we get a politics that talks of withdrawal, of caps, of reduction, of limits. Personal freedom is lauded, but we’re asked not to look beyond. We’re urged to think of certain people as being wasteful or scroungers or workshy or failures. We’re invited to diminish our neighbours. We’re asked to withdraw from Europe, to guard our borders, to turn people away. We’re asked to grow suspicious of another religion, to grow fearful of people’s accents, to start thinking about second- and third-class citizenship. I hope this is rejected on 7 May, because to me it doesn’t feel very British.

Britain has always been an open and inclusive society; its economy depends on it, its culture thrives off it. People like my father and like my mother’s parents migrated to the UK because they positively endorsed the values of fairness and freedom that Britain so takes for granted. For many of us, it’s a happy accident of birth that we’re born here: we get to enjoy a great country from the word go. For others, though, livelihood and even life are risked to participate in that opportunity. So don’t let anyone persuade you that to be an immigrant in the UK is to be anything other than patriotic.

Exclusive politics has nowhere to go but ever inward; it diminishes a country. Watching the sad scenes from Baltimore – a city I’ve worked in frequently over the past four years while making a show, Veep, for HBO – I’m reminded of what happens to a country where the power of money, the advantages of the haves and the rejection of the have-nots, can lead. Americans are a generous people, but so many have felt disenfranchised and alienated from their political system, that power, wealth and law have concentrated in the hands of the few.

The majority don’t vote, don’t take part in American democracy. And without a vote, there is no power. So for many there is no safety net, no system of community support, where even free healthcare is demonised as a sinister infringement of personal liberty. In American cities, I’ve seen what happens when democracy contracts into concentrated centres of power surrounded by large numbers excluded from that power.

This mustn’t happen in the UK. We mustn’t turn in on ourselves. We need to reverse the cycle that has seen voting numbers go down over the past few elections. And that has seen politicians focus their promises on fewer and fewer participants.

We need to re-engage by getting out to vote, and by voting we may arrive at a second, better option, an inclusive politics. The morning of 8 May might be messy, but it could lead to a progressive alliance of parties obliged, because of a fragmented and frustrated electorate, to seek common ground with each other and to start the process of reform. First reform would be economic, moving it away from a terrifyingly dogmatic worship of austerity for austerity’s sake.

At its most basic, it would seek to stop people dying, going hungry, taking their own lives, lying out homeless. The poverty and imposition of indignity on the weakest, through welfare sanctions, food banks, bedroom taxes and disability benefit cuts, have brought shame and anger to our country. An inclusive politics recognises that our country is enhanced not just morally but economically when we reach out to others and give them a helping hand.

An inclusive politics looks outward, recognises that it’s our connection with those around us that gives value and strength to our country. It would therefore also look at major reforms of the way this country works: a fairer voting system, an upper house that’s more relevant, the devolving of real power from Westminster to the regions, a lowering of the voting age. These reforms may seem dry and secondary, but they’d have a significant impact on how democracy functions in future elections. It would begin the process of welcoming the disenfranchised back into politics, of giving everyone a chance to see how their voice can be heard, their views have impact.

I don’t pretend that all this will happen, or that every problem will be resolved; but if we come out in large enough numbers to push for a progressive alliance of parties, there’s significant hope this positive process can begin.