When you happen to meet Geoff Hoon in the gents, it is perhaps not the most convenient moment to ask for his autograph. So when my son found himself in this situation the other Thursday, he contented himself with a grunted greeting. Mr Hoon is not my son’s favourite politician.
We were both at Lincoln’s Drill Hall for the recording of Question Time.
To be honest, I’m not a fan of the programme, nor of its radio equivalent, Any Questions. There are too many predictable questions, followed by answers that are either evasive or blatant claptrap. And there’s something about applauding just because you agree with someone that I find irritating.
But, what the hell, it would a free night out and something to talk about in the pub later. So we both applied, and after a few questions about our age, occupation and views, designed to ensure a reasonably balanced audience, we received our tickets.
The programme is recorded but not edited and the whole process took about 3 hours. We arrived about 6.30 to be checked in and frisked – that was a first for me. Well, it was a metal detector check; I’d better not exaggerate.
Through to the bar. Which was closed. I would have thought that a few drinks would help the show go with more of a swing, but I was to discover that there are plenty of people opinionated enough to have no need of Dutch courage. I noticed Max Nottingham, our local letter-writer and phone-in celebrity, lurking about in his trademark green woolly hat.
So after coffee, a BBC apple and a packet of crisps, a distinguished-looking David Dimbleby addressed us – two or three hundred I would say -with a few jokes and handed us on to the floor manager who, after a few jokes of his own, staged a rehearsal, with volunteers acting out the part of the panel. To my son’s embarrassment I volunteered and took up a position in favour of corporal punishment in schools. I’m not sure that I hold that opinion, as a matter of fact, but it’s more fun being illiberal.
I was surprised to hear a young teacher advocating the cane. This moved a furious-looking man, who described himself as a school governor, to declare that he would never employ a teacher with such views. (I wasn’t aware that governors had a hand in appointments). It struck me as amusing that this guy, and another one who claimed a more optimistic view of children’s response to ‘love’, manifested such suppressed violence in their eyes. I think they would have loved to give me and that young teacher a bloody good thrashing.
The floor manager gave us a piece of advice. ‘When you hear a panellist say, ‘’What’s important to remember here . . .’’, you know they’re flannelling.’ I made a note of that.
We finally got going about 8 o’clock. The panel assembled.
There was Geoff Hoon, of course, a politician with no apparent convictions of his own, rather like our own MP, Gillian Merron. You always feel that if you asked, ‘How are you?’, they would ring up number 10 to find out the official answer and then preface their reply with a list of the government’s accomplishments.
The Tory was Eric Pickles, the hero of Crewe and by the sound of him not an old Etonian. Politically lightweight, physically quite the opposite.
Caroline Lucas is a Green MEP, with cropped hair and an earnest air. She has some sort of strange title which avoids her being called ‘Leader’, apparently too authoritarian in tone. Whatever she is, moreover, she’s a joint one.
Ruth Lea is a former Treasury civil servant who confessed to a personal dislike of Gordon Brown and is now involved in an anti-EEC group called ‘Global Vision’.
Last, and definitely least, Dan Snow, son of his father.
It seems to be a law of political interview that the straightness of an answer is in inverse proportion to the likelihood of the interviewee exercising power. Likewise the naiveté of it. That was Dan Snow, who announced with great conviction, ‘Prison doesn’t work.’
Ruth Lea talked a lot of sense. When I mentioned this to someone in the pub later he merely replied, ‘Must be a bit right wing then.’ Do I have some sort of a reputation?
The questions were, as I predicted, predictable: petrol tax, MPs’ pay, health and safety ‘gone mad’, knife crime, the Labour Party’s ‘leadership crisis’.
Nothing about Iraq, the US presidential race or local Lincolnshire issues like migrant workers or post office and pub closures.
We were both at Lincoln’s Drill Hall for the recording of Question Time.
To be honest, I’m not a fan of the programme, nor of its radio equivalent, Any Questions. There are too many predictable questions, followed by answers that are either evasive or blatant claptrap. And there’s something about applauding just because you agree with someone that I find irritating.
But, what the hell, it would a free night out and something to talk about in the pub later. So we both applied, and after a few questions about our age, occupation and views, designed to ensure a reasonably balanced audience, we received our tickets.
The programme is recorded but not edited and the whole process took about 3 hours. We arrived about 6.30 to be checked in and frisked – that was a first for me. Well, it was a metal detector check; I’d better not exaggerate.
Through to the bar. Which was closed. I would have thought that a few drinks would help the show go with more of a swing, but I was to discover that there are plenty of people opinionated enough to have no need of Dutch courage. I noticed Max Nottingham, our local letter-writer and phone-in celebrity, lurking about in his trademark green woolly hat.
So after coffee, a BBC apple and a packet of crisps, a distinguished-looking David Dimbleby addressed us – two or three hundred I would say -with a few jokes and handed us on to the floor manager who, after a few jokes of his own, staged a rehearsal, with volunteers acting out the part of the panel. To my son’s embarrassment I volunteered and took up a position in favour of corporal punishment in schools. I’m not sure that I hold that opinion, as a matter of fact, but it’s more fun being illiberal.
I was surprised to hear a young teacher advocating the cane. This moved a furious-looking man, who described himself as a school governor, to declare that he would never employ a teacher with such views. (I wasn’t aware that governors had a hand in appointments). It struck me as amusing that this guy, and another one who claimed a more optimistic view of children’s response to ‘love’, manifested such suppressed violence in their eyes. I think they would have loved to give me and that young teacher a bloody good thrashing.
The floor manager gave us a piece of advice. ‘When you hear a panellist say, ‘’What’s important to remember here . . .’’, you know they’re flannelling.’ I made a note of that.
We finally got going about 8 o’clock. The panel assembled.
There was Geoff Hoon, of course, a politician with no apparent convictions of his own, rather like our own MP, Gillian Merron. You always feel that if you asked, ‘How are you?’, they would ring up number 10 to find out the official answer and then preface their reply with a list of the government’s accomplishments.
The Tory was Eric Pickles, the hero of Crewe and by the sound of him not an old Etonian. Politically lightweight, physically quite the opposite.
Caroline Lucas is a Green MEP, with cropped hair and an earnest air. She has some sort of strange title which avoids her being called ‘Leader’, apparently too authoritarian in tone. Whatever she is, moreover, she’s a joint one.
Ruth Lea is a former Treasury civil servant who confessed to a personal dislike of Gordon Brown and is now involved in an anti-EEC group called ‘Global Vision’.
Last, and definitely least, Dan Snow, son of his father.
It seems to be a law of political interview that the straightness of an answer is in inverse proportion to the likelihood of the interviewee exercising power. Likewise the naiveté of it. That was Dan Snow, who announced with great conviction, ‘Prison doesn’t work.’
Ruth Lea talked a lot of sense. When I mentioned this to someone in the pub later he merely replied, ‘Must be a bit right wing then.’ Do I have some sort of a reputation?
The questions were, as I predicted, predictable: petrol tax, MPs’ pay, health and safety ‘gone mad’, knife crime, the Labour Party’s ‘leadership crisis’.
Nothing about Iraq, the US presidential race or local Lincolnshire issues like migrant workers or post office and pub closures.
Caroline came in for criticism in the local press, in the days following the broadcast, for using a car, first to get to Lincoln from Retford, where she had missed her rail connection, and then to return to London. The latter journey, to make matters worse for some reason was by ‘chauffeur-driven’ car.
The woman is obviously a hypocrite, isn’t she, her green and leftist principles a mere sham?
I don’t think so. If she were to fulfil her obligation to appear she could hardly have done so trying to get to Lincoln by bike. As for the chauffeured drive home, that was a BBC car that was going back to London anyway and in any case was shared.
This little post-broadcast episode, ad hominem in tone, was typical of the standard of debate throughout the media, in Parliament and in pubs.
The woman is obviously a hypocrite, isn’t she, her green and leftist principles a mere sham?
I don’t think so. If she were to fulfil her obligation to appear she could hardly have done so trying to get to Lincoln by bike. As for the chauffeured drive home, that was a BBC car that was going back to London anyway and in any case was shared.
This little post-broadcast episode, ad hominem in tone, was typical of the standard of debate throughout the media, in Parliament and in pubs.
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