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Party conferences: a PowerPoint presentation in a parallel universe Party conferences: a PowerPoint presentation in a parallel universe
(4 days later)
People often talk about applying a 30-page rule to reading a book. If it hasn't got their attention by that stage, then it is perfectly reasonable to toss it and go elsewhere in search of value. A question, then, as party conference season begins: if nothing remotely significant has been said at one of these increasingly alien-looking gatherings for almost 30 years, are we not nearing the time when it might seem reasonable to abandon the things?People often talk about applying a 30-page rule to reading a book. If it hasn't got their attention by that stage, then it is perfectly reasonable to toss it and go elsewhere in search of value. A question, then, as party conference season begins: if nothing remotely significant has been said at one of these increasingly alien-looking gatherings for almost 30 years, are we not nearing the time when it might seem reasonable to abandon the things?
We can bicker a bit about when precisely the last important or brilliant utterance occurred at a party conference. For reference, I am sticking my pin in Neil Kinnock's 1985 call to arms against Militant, which was a sufficiently memorable performance to be referred to thereafter as "THAT speech". Since then? Bupkis. For all the countless millions spent, words spouted and hotel rooms booked, the purchase of these annual productions on the popular imagination must remain something close to zero. It's the Lib Dems kicking off on Saturday, Labour up next, and the Tories after that – three weeks of absolutely missable action.We can bicker a bit about when precisely the last important or brilliant utterance occurred at a party conference. For reference, I am sticking my pin in Neil Kinnock's 1985 call to arms against Militant, which was a sufficiently memorable performance to be referred to thereafter as "THAT speech". Since then? Bupkis. For all the countless millions spent, words spouted and hotel rooms booked, the purchase of these annual productions on the popular imagination must remain something close to zero. It's the Lib Dems kicking off on Saturday, Labour up next, and the Tories after that – three weeks of absolutely missable action.
Each year, in fact, the conferences seem twice as niche an activity as they were the one before. There are radioactive isotopes with a half life that outstrips that of the value of a party conference to anyone who is not connected to them. Their sole demonstrable success is their role in enabling legovers between like-minded youthful party hacks, who can think of little more thrilling than being number nine at No 11 when they grow up, and who find themselves misunderstood in the sort of social venues frequented by civilians.Each year, in fact, the conferences seem twice as niche an activity as they were the one before. There are radioactive isotopes with a half life that outstrips that of the value of a party conference to anyone who is not connected to them. Their sole demonstrable success is their role in enabling legovers between like-minded youthful party hacks, who can think of little more thrilling than being number nine at No 11 when they grow up, and who find themselves misunderstood in the sort of social venues frequented by civilians.
With each passing year these events feel more like the world's most boring, pre-ratified PowerPoint presentations; yet bizarrely, they still seem to be regarded as essential by those masterminds who have stripped them of all debate and verve, presumably because we wretched media have made anything else impossible.With each passing year these events feel more like the world's most boring, pre-ratified PowerPoint presentations; yet bizarrely, they still seem to be regarded as essential by those masterminds who have stripped them of all debate and verve, presumably because we wretched media have made anything else impossible.
Even now, and for days to come, Ed Miliband will be lavishing hours on putting the finishing touches to a speech that has already been slaved over for months – and the struggle, really, is to conceive of a more pointless displacement activity. Being involved in the slow-motion car crash of proverb, perhaps, and opting to remove your hand from the wheel to call to discuss upgrading the finish of your gear knob. The only people who are gripped are in the room, or in the offices of media outlets that have people in the room. Not that leaders' speeches aren't wildly applauded, including Miliband's "one nation" effort last year – an idea that has failed to gain traction on the mind of the average normal Briton, even in trickledown, bowdlerised form.Even now, and for days to come, Ed Miliband will be lavishing hours on putting the finishing touches to a speech that has already been slaved over for months – and the struggle, really, is to conceive of a more pointless displacement activity. Being involved in the slow-motion car crash of proverb, perhaps, and opting to remove your hand from the wheel to call to discuss upgrading the finish of your gear knob. The only people who are gripped are in the room, or in the offices of media outlets that have people in the room. Not that leaders' speeches aren't wildly applauded, including Miliband's "one nation" effort last year – an idea that has failed to gain traction on the mind of the average normal Briton, even in trickledown, bowdlerised form.
Yup, they bring the house down, these things. But saying they were lapped up by people in the actual hall is – how to put this tactfully? – hardly the kitemark. Their immediate audience is people convinced by the size of the venue that they are at the beating heart of things, when you'd hope the fact that stands in the exhibition centres are taken by the likes of Barclays and KPMG might have alerted them to the fact that these are administrations and would-be administrations that do their real business somewhere more rarefied. You'd hope, as I say. But you'd be disappointed.Yup, they bring the house down, these things. But saying they were lapped up by people in the actual hall is – how to put this tactfully? – hardly the kitemark. Their immediate audience is people convinced by the size of the venue that they are at the beating heart of things, when you'd hope the fact that stands in the exhibition centres are taken by the likes of Barclays and KPMG might have alerted them to the fact that these are administrations and would-be administrations that do their real business somewhere more rarefied. You'd hope, as I say. But you'd be disappointed.
Think of all those adoring faces turned up to Tony Blair as he spouted his famous "the kaleidoscope has been shaken – the pieces are in flux" cobblers in 2001, and ask yourself if there weren't extras in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest making more sense than the PM was on that day. These were the years in which the Labour conference was chiefly notable for its insane security, which was little more than the leadership's excruciating West Wing fantasy of secret service earpieces and situation rooms transplanted to Blackpool, or whichever seaside town had lost the lottery that year. Stands in the conference centre were selling what appeared to be the party's take on arena rock merchandise – mental things, such as Gordon Brown toby jugs and whatnot. Last year at the Tories' you could get tea towels bearing the slogan, "We're all in it together". Nurse!Think of all those adoring faces turned up to Tony Blair as he spouted his famous "the kaleidoscope has been shaken – the pieces are in flux" cobblers in 2001, and ask yourself if there weren't extras in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest making more sense than the PM was on that day. These were the years in which the Labour conference was chiefly notable for its insane security, which was little more than the leadership's excruciating West Wing fantasy of secret service earpieces and situation rooms transplanted to Blackpool, or whichever seaside town had lost the lottery that year. Stands in the conference centre were selling what appeared to be the party's take on arena rock merchandise – mental things, such as Gordon Brown toby jugs and whatnot. Last year at the Tories' you could get tea towels bearing the slogan, "We're all in it together". Nurse!
At a time when even politicians are falling over themselves to agree that people are more disengaged than ever from conventional politics, as though recognising it were akin to doing anything constructive about it, the party conferences have never looked more strange and other-planetary to the disinterested observer – or "the electorate", as they are otherwise known. Over the next few weeks, conference halls will fill with people who appear to be living in a parallel universe to anyone in your street (and of course, that includes the media covering them).At a time when even politicians are falling over themselves to agree that people are more disengaged than ever from conventional politics, as though recognising it were akin to doing anything constructive about it, the party conferences have never looked more strange and other-planetary to the disinterested observer – or "the electorate", as they are otherwise known. Over the next few weeks, conference halls will fill with people who appear to be living in a parallel universe to anyone in your street (and of course, that includes the media covering them).
What is the point of it all? Instead of participating in this exercise in mass alienation, senior party figures should be sent on an off-site to the real world for the duration of what used to be their party conference. Perhaps their sojourn could take the form of a scavenger hunt and see them required to tick off a checklist of normal activities, none of which would be clapping for five minutes – five whole minutes! – at someone who honestly, honestly, isn't Martin Luther King. Or perhaps they could sit in and watch daytime telly. Anything, surely, would be preferable to spending several days making themselves look even weirder and less appealing to the public than they already do.What is the point of it all? Instead of participating in this exercise in mass alienation, senior party figures should be sent on an off-site to the real world for the duration of what used to be their party conference. Perhaps their sojourn could take the form of a scavenger hunt and see them required to tick off a checklist of normal activities, none of which would be clapping for five minutes – five whole minutes! – at someone who honestly, honestly, isn't Martin Luther King. Or perhaps they could sit in and watch daytime telly. Anything, surely, would be preferable to spending several days making themselves look even weirder and less appealing to the public than they already do.
Twitter: @MarinaHydeTwitter: @MarinaHyde
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