Why do we have unserious politicians and an unserious media

It may be my grumpy old man emerging from its cocoon but I sense that, as MPs drift further away from anything that looks like real power and influence, they become less and less serious

A week or so ago there was a sense of incredulity as, without any sense of irony, Labour MP Kim Leadbeater proposed legislation for a ‘graduated driving licence’ where young drivers are not allowed to drive at night or give rides to people under 25. As Ms Leadbeater spoke people pointed out that maybe we need to focus as much on older drivers as younger drivers (women over 80 are as dangerous as men under 25) but others simply slumped deeper into their settee or laid their head gently on the desk while emitting a quiet whimpering sound.

Hardly a day passes without the government, opposition or a ‘campaigning’ MP exploiting the latest skirmish in the culture wars, the most recent agonising tragedy splashed over the front pages of tabloid newspapers, or the current moral panic about some largely harmless (even beneficial) practice. Rainbow lanyards, silent prayer, killer cyclists, Smart motorways, sliced white bread and vaping. Social media, smartphones, zombie knives and ninja swords, drinks with sugar in, caffeinated pop, making friends with the neighbour’s cat, taking cows across the channel, London’s pedal cabs, eating dogs, shop workers, paper straws and plastic carrier bags.

None of these political botherations merited parliamentary time or the attention of the media yet all of them have their inception in the unhealthy relationship between the attention-seeking of modern MPs and the media’s love of ignorant moral panics and scare stories based, in most cases, only very loosely on anything like a fact. While some, like the current Smoking & Vaping Bill, are dangerously stupid, all start with one of four things: 

The first is an import from the USA often called the ‘culture war’ where idiotic and pointless rules are introduced simply to win a brief victory over “the libs” or “the far right”. We have a ban - one carrying a serious maximum sentence - on standing in view of an abortion clinic and silently praying. The government is threatening to make it a disciplinary matter for civil servants to wear a rainbow lanyard just to make a point in an otherwise pointless ‘war on woke’. And a bunch of Labour MPs were celebrating all over the media because they’ve got it so the presumption of innocence no longer applies if a colleague is arrested.

Next we have what might be called “The Daily Mail Effect” where a tragedy is turned from just a tragedy into the urgent demand for ‘something to be done’. Often the subject of the campaign in question is only loosely related to the incident (for example David Amess MP wasn’t murdered by an Islamist extremist because people are rude to MPs on social media). The media, however, is governed by what the tragic victims demand so we get a long campaign to turn off Britain’s safest roads, our smart motorways, because the family of someone killed on one of these roads believes the road was at fault.

Following this we get ‘Jamie Oliver Syndrome’ where a well known celebrity decides to take up a campaign sometimes but not always vaguely associated with that person’s reason for celebrity. TV chefs are among the worst offenders as they take up ridiculous and unscientific ideas like ‘food deserts’ and ‘ultra-processed food’ to pursue inconsistent campaigns to force governments into new and unnecessary regulations or expenditure. It is a joy to watch Oliver babbling on about sugar in food while promoting recipes filled to overflowing with the sweet stuff.

The last reason is moral panic. There’s nothing especially new about moral panics but a disproportionate amount of political media (and almost all of health media) is directed to spreading panic about how everything from Tic-toc to Tic-tacs is killing or corrupting our children. Whether it is social media, vaping, fast food or raffle tickets, somebody somewhere has appeared on the telly campaigning for bans, limits and controls. Even for adults, moral panics are ever present: the whole ‘ultra-processed food’ idea is little more than the selective use of information to sell diet plans, books and dinky little bits of purposeless technology but there’s hardly a magazine, newspaper or TV producer that hasn’t fallen hook, line and sinker for this unscientific nonsense.

Politicians, living as they do in a world where their future success requires attention-seeking, adopt these culture wars, celebrity puffs, moral panics and tragedies so as to advance themselves. It doesn’t matter whether the politician gives any thought to the issue (most, I suspect, don’t, relying instead on ideology and the reward of attention as a guide) because nobody is going to challenge them on the issue in question except in a childishly partisan manner. The MPs can preen themselves, tell their constituents about these vital campaigns, and ignore the really big and wicked issues facing the country.

For every politician that spends time trying to understand the issues of public finances, deficit and debt there are 100 or more who will latch onto the latest panic, media campaign or tragedy to push for, at best, purposeless laws and, at worst, new laws that will act to make matters worse not better. For every MP getting into the details of planning and housing, there are another 100 who prefer to shout ‘rent controls’ or ‘save the green belt’. And for every politician engaged in serious discussion about trade policy, biosecurity and food policy, there are 100 who merely scream ‘chlorinated chicken’ or ‘food needs farmers’.

Most politicians are only serious about three things: getting in the media, not getting caught out, and furthering their career. And most politicians quickly conclude that being serious about the real challenges facing the economy, society and nation is the least effective way to get on telly, get slapped on the back by colleagues and get re-elected. This doesn’t mean that governments and oppositions (at least at election time) don’t concern themselves with economic growth, housing and health but that any policies are moderated by a desire not to frighten the electorate, upset the media or seem uncaring or inconsiderate in the face of tragedy and moral panic. “We will solve the housing crisis”, “stability and growth”, “better healthcare”: the grand rhetoric of campaigning political leaders is not matched in the small print of their policies. 

Our politics and our political media is fundamentally unserious. The people involved are not the ones threatened by economic recession or social collapse, so they ignore these problems until they become unavoidable. And, as Britain’s Conservatives have discovered, when inevitability is in your face it is very hard to get out of its way. Labour offers us six pledges along the lines of “stability” and growth while their only substantive proposals are to make energy more expensive, to tax oil and gas more, and to introduce a spiteful tax on people who educate their children privately. Meanwhile the media fusses more about whether Keir Starmer wears a tie, how much our foreign office, diplomats and trade officials spend on flights, and a whole bunch of irrelevant gossip interesting only to people inside the political bubble. And the MPs? They carry on flittering round the media, latching onto the latest trend while hoping that the lamp doesn’t burn them.

It may be my grumpy old man emerging from its cocoon but I sense that, as MPs drift further away from anything that looks like real power and influence, they become less and less serious. Where once MPs might be asking ministers detailed questions about that minister’s portfolio, they now ask questions about a person or place in their constituency (that the minister, if not forewarned, will know nothing about) merely so as to show now much the MPs is ‘fighting’ and ‘campaigning’ for the people he or she represents. MPs ask about planning applications and bus routes that should be addressed to local councils, they set up petitions aimed at collecting email addresses so they can tell more people about the petty concerns they’ve ‘raised with ministers’, and they shuffle along behind the latest celebrity campaign, moral panic or media grift hoping some of the glory rubs off on them and their career.

And MPs are not wholly to blame here. When the first question to the political reporter in the rain outside Number 10 is something like “does the Russian threat to invade Poland mean trouble for the Prime Minister?”, we see that the media treats politics entirely as a game rather than as a serious matter. Presenters approach important issues such as the regulation of the Internet, trade deals or international relations almost entirely as a chance to catch some unfortunate politician out rather than as a way to get the issues more clearly understood by the public. The media, like politics, is unserious, more interested in gossip, scandal and moral panics than in hosting an informed conversion about those big wicked issues. So why should MPs be serious when the new reporting isn't serious? Why should MPs be serious when there’s more to be gained by chasing that gossip, joining in those moral panics, and playing the oppositional game of gotcha.