Television is about presentation, entertainment and amusement – and today’s politicians know that it’s overwhelmingly the best way to get through to a generation of young voters turned off by House of Commons debates. Sadie Phillips looks at the implications
I’m 22 years old and I have never voted.
I go to university, I read Heat magazine, I watch Celebrity Love Island, I probably binge drink, and to be honest, I do not really care about politics. I’d rather read about what Brad and Angelina are calling their new baby than listen to Tony Blair rant on about “new policy”.
Like so many others of my generation, politics is about as far down my list of priorities as conquering that festering mound of washing up by the sink. That was, of course, until George Galloway’s phenomenal entry into the Celebrity Big Brother house hit our screens.
Who’d have thought it? I barely knew the guy before witnessing the cringe-worthy sight of him crawling on all fours, purring like a cat, whilst licking the hand of a fellow housemate. It brought a whole new meaning to the word “embarrassing”.
A political leader breaking the mould of modern politics in such an unforgettable way just begged the question: What the hell has happened to politics?
Political apathy amongst the new uninspired, uninterested, politically uneducated generation, has led to alienation and disengagement from politics. We are the new Sun-reading, celebrity-obsessed, politically sceptical generation, we want infotainment, not “real” news.
Politicians are notably finding our demographic harder to reach. After all, we don’t want to watch long, drawnout, political debate in the House of Commons. Unfortunately for the electorate, TV is for entertainment and, like so many others; my idea of entertainment is not watching a roomful of boring old men talk politics. Sorry Tony.
Hence, recent years have witnessed the convergence of politics, entertainment and advertising in an attempt to infiltrate this inaccessible audience, and it doesn’t end there. Believe it or not Tony Blair won Torso of the Week in the April issue of Heat last year, amongst other things.
More recently, we’ve seen David Cameron, the new Tory party leader, being ever more active on the image front. From cycling to work, to applying for a wind generator, to showing off his wife’s tattoo, Cameron’s attempts to connect with us Brits have no bounds.
Politics has inevitably been trivialised and commercialised by television. Now we have the visuals, who cares about the verbal? The last General Election campaign perhaps provides the most pertinent examples, having transformed into a theatrical masterpiece. It was a highly stagemanaged, coordinated collaboration of immaculate visual imagery, impeccable sound bites and impressive illusive art. Stage presence has undeniably overpowered lines spun, and the singer has inevitably become more important than the song.
In today’s ruthless political game, the most popular medium for exposure is television. Televised communication has restored the missing link between the electorate and the audience. Modern politics has been redefined by the importance of communication since the Kennedy-Nixon debates and the introduction of television has inevitably made “the look” of the politician vital.
Rather than words, we remember images. No truly memorable feats of oratory genius remain, and the days of powerful speeches are long gone. Our focus no longer lies within substance, but with appearance.
A survey research centre at the University of Michigan revealed that only 7% of our perception of others comes from what they actually say. We are effectively choosing our country’s leaders based on their appearance. Our motives are flawed.
Politics revolves around the image of the politician, and television has become the perfect projector. Britain’s politicians are ever more attuned to the medium of entertainment, the supremacy of the televised broadcast, and to underestimate its influence would be a gross error on their part. The power of television literally brings to life the aphorism “a picture is worth a thousand words”.
Rapid adaptation to television has led to the Americanisation of British politics. Just as Kennedy was “packaged” as an image of youth and glamour, portrayed as a war hero, our electorates are undergoing the same transformation. In contrast to our American contenders, UK politics has attempted to woo the British public with an ingenious portrayal of a universally iconic image, dumbed-down to resonate with press and public alike.
Just as Princess Diana was loved for the familiarity and intimacy that reverberated amid the general public, politicians are now desperately seeking to win popularity with the deliverance of “a man of the people”. Intelligent, opinionated (albeit wrinkly and receding) masterminds have been shunted to the back bench only to be substituted by a younger, better-looking breed of politician. A healthy, fresh-faced puppet with a nice tie has replaced the balding, boring politician of yesteryear.
Snap happy and silent, it remains no secret that these “models” are not exactly the brains behind the operation. It’s hardly news that Tony Blair recruited the likes of Alastair Campbell and Peter Mandelson to help put his spindle into action. It is rarely the politicians themselves who instigate these deceptive media manipulations, but the intellectual advisors behind the pretty face, commonly known as spin doctors.
Fickle audiences
Meticulous photo opportunities and immaculate sound bites are the weapons of choice for this new league of extraordinary spin doctors.
To combat the dramatic drop in public interest, no less, Mandelson and Campbell, were alive to the opportunities of political promotion through the media. For spin doctors such as these, media manipulation became a way of life. Fearless in their attempts to appeal to viewers’ interest, these puppeteers carefully orchestrate party propaganda, with appropriate images and personalities to ensure maximum exposure.
Their ruthless delivery of the telegenic candidate, oversimplified sound bites and entertaining visuals has trivialised politics and pulled attention away from important political issues. It was not exactly long before the Tories followed suit.
With the declaration of David Cameron as the new Tory leader, a vibrant new image for the future of the party was assured. We are witnessing the Dyson of spinning machines; a hip new image and an invaluable detachment from high-profile spin doctoring And rumours are circulating that, for the first time in years, the Tories are in with a chance of winning an election. The generation of the political celebrity has dazzled British voters. Issues have effortlessly been swept aside by the illusive winds of stardom.
As New York author J. McGinniss once said: “The televised celebrity is a vessel, an inoffensive container in which someone else’s knowledge, insight, compassion, or wit can be presented”. As politics enters the spurious, shallow, superficial media arena, valued discussion of stance and issues have been replaced by mediocre spectacles, to satisfy our uneducated citizens.
A TV personality is what we, the viewers, want and as a consequence, “star” style has inevitably overpowered substance. Our pre-occupation with gossip and trivia has to a great extent allowed this media manipulation. Carefully packaged, photogenic representatives need only smile and wave, offering a virtually mute endorsement of political parties. In parrot-like fashion modern politicians simply deliver pre-rehearsed slogans and automated staccato sound bites, which our fickle audiences devour just as easily as an episode of Neighbours.
Political appearances are no longer spontaneous, but planted and premeditated by the merciless spin doctors. In January, PR Week cited the most successful of these synthetic novelties – Tony Blair playing football head tennis with Kevin Keegan. According to the magazine, Alastair Campbell’s success in portraying Blair as a sporty ‘man of the people’ one of his finest moments.
But this year, British politicians’ bid for an increasingly iconic image undoubtedly peaked with George Galloway’s phenomenal entry into UK reality TV’s Celebrity Big Brother house – a monumental movement in political history. It beautifully illustrated the idea that serious, educational politics is arguably extinct, only to be replaced by demeaning, desperate, undignified attempts to extend a political arm to a younger generation.
Some would argue that packaging politics in this way increases public knowledge and citizen participation, and that media-based political communication improves the extent, quantity and efficiency of communications between voters and parties.
But, it only needs a quick glance at Galloway to see that intellectual discussion has seemingly been sacrificed for moronic conversation, a meaningless slideshow of images, to serve and entertain our disinterested publics. In a vested attempt to win ‘Political Idol’ amongst a new generation of voters, politicians such as “gorgeous George” are reaching entirely new lows.
The revolution can be expected to continue. Political fashions may change, but the need to fashion politics will not.
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