18 OCTOBER 1968, Page 9

SPECTATOR'S NOTEBOOK

J. W. M. THOMPSON

The conventional method of expressing appro- val of a public performer is, when you come to think of it objectively, an absurd and em- barrassing activity. One has to stand up and beat the palms of the hands together noisily, meanwhile emitting strident animal cries. The procedure gives a new value to Castlereagh's opinion that, as between unpopularity and popularity, 'unpopularity is the more conveni- ent and gentlemanlike'. Public speakers, under- standably enough, enjoy seeing their admirers submit themselves to this strange discipline.

All the same, I would like to suggest. in view of recent experience, that people who take the ritual to be a serious way of making politi- cal points are really doing nothing more than making asses of themselves.

Presumably journalists, rather than poli- ticians, are primarily responsible for the current competition between the political parties over the length of the ovations they provide for their leaders, but whoever started it has led others into a farcical contest from which no one can emerge victorious. And apart from its inherently self-defeating quality, the excessive 'ovation' imposes a ridiculous task upon its recipient, who must grimace and beam gratefully, 'attentive to his own applause.' Thus Mr Heath during nearly eight minutes of din after his speech last Saturday. Next year, no doubt, the contest will escalate still further, unless something is done to end it. But what can be done? An all-party committee to allot ovation time, much as broadcasting time is shared between the parties now, is perhaps pos- sible (I suggest the chief whips, with such expert support as they deem necessary, and an independent chairman—Lord Goodman, of course). In fact, though, there is a simpler way out of this foolish situation, and I com- mend it to the chairmen of next year's party conferences. Let them each, at the opening of the conference, announce that applause, like the speeches, will be limited as to time, and that after a seemly period (say one minute) of clapping and cheering he intends to call the gathering to order. Nothing more is needed: and the chairmen may even find themselves receiving the most genuinely spontaneous ovations of the entire conference season.

Period pieces

The habit of hypostasising decades of recent history seems to go in cycles. Not long ago the air was loud with appraisals of the 'twenties and 'thirties; then came a lull; now I notice a tendency to treat the 'fifties as a unified, coherent 'period' with (of course) many a black mark for regressive behaviour in the arts and other aspects of life. It's never easy, when one has actually lived through a decade, to recog- nise it in the portrayals of its subsequent analysts; one bumbles along from year to year, trying to pay the bills and keep up with what's happening in the world, and suddenly some alert observer explains that one was actually participating in a decade of memorable turpi- tude or renaissance or whatever it may be. This is one of the surprises of middle age. For example, I saw the phrase 'the glamorous 'thirties' in a recent theatre advertisement; I could only reflect that nobody at any school had any inkling that the 'thirties were being 'glamorous' all around us, but presumably they were.

On the whole, the mythology of decades tends to reveal more about those who express it than about history. To me, the album-picture of the 'thirties which I carry in my mind is of schoolboys speculating about when the war would begin. The other day, however, an older friend urged me to read Gollancz's reissue of Rose M aca ulay's Personal Pleasures—'the essence of the 1930s atmosphere,' he said. I have now done so and find these essays delight- ful—but in a mannered, bookish, private, ele- gantly leisured way, as remote from my mythical 'thirties as one of the seventeenth cen- tury texts to which Rose Macaulay was devoted. Yet I'm sure we arc both right, by our lights.

Up the poll

On another page the results of this journal's public opinion poll at the Tory conference appear, and very interesting they are. But I find all opinion polls more or less interesting: why, I'm not sure, unless it is because of the attrac- tion of all attempts to quantify the abstract. For years I have been waiting for the public opinion poll which will show 100 per cent voting both fol and against everything. It will happen one day, and a sign that things are moving in that direction was a constituency survey published last week by the Tory group called PEST. This showed that 53 per cent believed laws preventing racial discrimination in housing to be a good thing, although 79 per cent agreed that people should be free to refuse to sell or let their houses for racial or any other reasons. Again, 72 per cent wanted to restrict the social services to those in real need, while 47 per cent thought they should be available to all. Most remarkable, 66 per cent declared that all coloured immigration should be stopped at once, whereas 64 per cent thought it should not be stopped but restricted. Even innumerates like myself can gape at those figures. Next question: do you agree or disagree with Mr Enoch Heath? 'Yes' 73 per cent, 'No' 64 per cent. . . .

University challenge

People are always complaining th.at the new radicals are keen on destroying our present society but noticeably shaky about what should lie put in its place. I'm pleased to see from a pamphlet published by the Universities Cam- paign for a Stronger Labour Government (and emanating from Sussex University) that there are plenty of sound, practical proposals on hand for when the day comes. For example, Mr Wilson should 'disarm the bosses, arm the workers for self-defence, and nationalise the 200 monopolies under workers' control.' It is true, one reads, that this will mean civil war —never mind, Utopia is just round the corner. `. . . After the revolution, only machines, not people, will have to be managed . . . Govern- ment, too, will become omnipotent. There will be no people, only machines and things, to govern. The Labour Government . . . will become all-powerful, because "Labour," i.e. the working people as a whole, will them- selves all join the Government, and become the Government.' Move over, Harold.