Out of the loop?

**The penultimate episode of ‘The Thick Of It’ was quite simply brilliant. **

As Malcolm Tucker snarled in his thorny Scottish growl “How dare you lay this at my door? This [culture]…which is the result of a political class that has given up on morality and simply pursues popularity at all costs”, the reference to the Leveson inquiry could hardly be ignored.

Throughout the episode, a procession of liars and hypocrites took to the stand to swear under oath that they either had no knowledge such a ‘practice’ existed, or, whilst acknowledging that said practice was in fact endemic, they were unable to recall enough to be able to point fat, accusatory fingers. Some flourished on the stand; (JB slithered, Piers Morgan- esque, around the spray of quick-fire questions) whilst others floundered and squirmed like an asthmatic fish in a sauna (Terri).

Reality and television came together in a way their usual trashy confluence could only dream about; powerful, witty, sharp, damning, the political satire that prides itself on sticking as close as possible to current affairs got it spot on. Disillusionment with the ‘political classes’ is swirling around our country like a dark cloud. And in England, sooner or later, it always rains.

{{quote Undoubtedly the most adept method to attain popularity is to attempt to manipulate the press into presenting a politician in a favourable light }}

What is unequivocal is that the ‘political class’ relentlessly pursues popularity at all costs; what is slightly less clear is whether they had any morality left to renounce in the first place. Undoubtedly the most adept method to attain popularity is to attempt to manipulate the press into presenting a politician in a favourable light. Press Relations have become far more important than either policy or political ability.

The media can either spit or polish – an unmitigated disaster can be slyly maneuvered into a moderate success, or vice-versa. Take Mr Cameron’s new approach to crime. ‘Tough but intelligent.’ What does that even mean? Aside from sounding like the prefix to an announcement that ends ‘Looking for attractive blonde, aged 25-30’: absolutely nothing. Like so much of Mr. Cameron’s rhetoric, it sounds pretty, and as a result, it gets a fair sprinkling of press attention. But the policy itself is simply a mish-mash of Labour’s reheated leftovers with a side helping of recognition that prison is not always the answer. As is so often the case with Mr Cameron, the aesthetic of appearance outweighs any kind of political substance – this pig has an awful lot of lipstick, but is often unable conceal his porcine origins.

The relationship between politics and the media is inherently complex and mutually parasitic. As the Leveson inquiry has proven, the press are fundamentally under the jurisdiction of the law, which, to an extent, is controlled by politicians. However, politicians are supposedly answerable to the electorate; and how do they communicate with this sprawling mass of people? Via the media. Keeping the press on a tight leash means severely limiting freedom of speech, whereas giving them free reign, without even the merest shadow of influence, would be political suicide.

The media in turn has become a volatile and voracious beast. If a politician announces he has made a mistake, he is criticized. If he refuses to apologize, he is crucified. So he is forced to lean on editors and journalists, to try and persuade them to tone down their criticism, to relegate the acerbic front-page critique to page 12, and maybe turn up the heat on his political rivals instead.

The puppeteer’s hands can never be seen pulling the strings. This intentionally obscured model permits a culture of smoke and shadows, of leaks and phone-taps, and all the other unseen plumbing that allows our so-called democracy to function. This free-for-all favor-exchange has come to define the politics of our time; a circus of liars and thieves, caught in an endless quest for popularity at any cost.