MEDIA STUDIES
My advice to ambitious politicians worried about whether they'll ever be PM: keep your 'air on!
STEPHEN GLOVER
Eeryone knows that this is the media age, and that television is all-powerful. The image is all. In the modern age politicians are judged not so much by the fineness of their minds or the nobility of their ideas as by the appearance of their faces. Although in possession of an unusually sharp and incisive brain, poor Robin Cook was excluded from the last Labour leadership contest because he was believed to resemble a distressed gar- den gnome. He was not 'telegenic'.
These thoughts passed through my mind again as I attended the Tory Party confer- ence in Bournemouth last week. It was, of course, a time for rallying behind the Prime Minister. Unity was the catchword. But there was also talk about who might suc- ceed Mr Major in the unfortunate event of the Tories losing the election. The attrac- tions of many candidates were considered. Would so-and-so carry the vote of the cen- tre of the party? Whom would the Right prefer? Rarely mentioned was a factor which I believe to be of pre-eminent impor- tance in this television age: the state of a man's head.
I am prepared to stick my neck out and say that there is unlikely ever again to be a bald prime minister of this country. It is, after all, some 32 years since we last had a baldie in charge. Alec Douglas-Home admitted that he resembled a skull in appearance but, at a time when most peo- ple still did not possess television sets, which were moreover all still black-and- white, this little deficiency was thought not to matter. Since Lord Home, however, none of our prime ministers have been fol- licly challenged. Harold Wilson, Ted Heath, Jim Callaghan, Margaret Thatcher (naturally) and John Major have all had a very decent covering.
Leaving aside Lady Thatcher for obvious reasons, these men assumed the highest office at an age when at least two of them would have been expected, on the law of averages, to be bald. None was. Going back a little further, into the pre-television era, we have no problem in finding a fair propor- tion of bald prime ministers: Churchill and Attlee spring to mind. It is true that in recent times Labour has had two bald lead- ers, Neil Kinnock and John Smith. Mr Smith was unfortunately never given the opportu- nity to test the b-question at a general elec- tion, but Mr Kinnock was, and failed twice. Might Labour have done better had its leader possessed a full head of hair? If you still have any doubts, look at the United States. Eisenhower was the last bald president. Perhaps an exception was made in his case because he had won a world war. Ronald Reagan showed that it was possible to be elderly and assume the presidency, but he had ample locks, which he was alleged to have dyed black. Bill Clinton has a small forest on his head, and even Bob Dole is surprisingly hirsute on top for a man of his age. In America it could not be otherwise. As in this country, by way of a bare minimum, leaders are expected to sport a respectable thatch. I suppose that we, the television viewers, must associate luxuriant head-hair with vigour and mas- culinity — attributes we want our leaders to have.
By contrast, in post-war France it is almost impossible to be a leader unless you are bald. Mitterrand and de Gaulle had lost most of their hair by the time they became president; Giscard d'Estaing was always as bald as a coot, and Georges Pompidou didn't have much of the stuff. In fact, it is difficult to think of any modern French leader with thick tresses. The current presi- dent, Jacques Chirac, is bald, as is his prime minister, Alain Juppe. I could go on. The French would appear to see baldness not as proof of incipient decrepitude but as indicative of avuncular wisdom and reliabil- ity. They put their faith in the images of age; we run away from them.
Which brings me to the question of the Tory succession, should the Conservatives lose the next election. Unfortunately, since several of the candidates have a full head of hair it is impossible to be certain who would win, but some aspirants can be elimi- nated on account of their baldness. I would not give much for Michael Howard's chances. People are talking up Malcolm Rifkind, but I have my doubts because, though not technically bald, he has little more than a fine down covering his pate. William Hague, spoken of as a dark horse, must surely be disqualified as an out-and- out baldie. This leaves Kenneth Clarke (plenty of hair, which coils louchely over his collar in a teddy boy way), John Redwood (impressive covering) and Michael Portillo (enormous tufts which rise several inches from his brow and sweep back in glorious profusion). If hair were the only determi- nant — and even I don't claim that — Mr Portillo would be the clear winner.
It may be that there will be no leadership contest. John Major could win the general election. If he does, I concede there will be more issues than hair at stake. But make no mistake: it is an issue. Though no Michael Portillo, Mr Major boasts a densely packed Axminster carpet. Little rivulets of baldness can, by contrast, be spotted by keen observers on Tony Blair's head. Labour spin doctors are undoubtedly anxious. They won't have their leader photographed near a helicopter lest his carefully arranged locks should be swept aside to reveal these ever widening rivulets. At the recent Labour Party conference, a message from one aide to another was intercepted by a hacker: `Please do something about his hair.'
Like weave a ball of wool into it. These Labour spin doctors know that their man is going bald. I fear that his pillow is covered with fallen hair. (He has my deepest sympa- thies.) Perhaps some under-spin doctor counts them every day and forlornly enters the latest figure in a ledger. Other advisers may be fantasising about transplants or scouring the earth for magic potions. With luck his terrible secret may be concealed from the public during this election cam- paign, but if he loses he can never fight another. Labour's dreadful fear is that, in what will largely be a presidential contest, Mr Blair will be seen on television to be thinner on top than Mr Major.
Thus far .we have degenerated, but there is perhaps a silver lining. There is one party panjandrum in the coming election who is far, far balder than poor Mr Blair. Sir James Goldsmith, leader of the Referen- dum Party, suffers several disadvantages. He is hugely rich. He is perceived as being foreign, even if he regards himself as English. And, above all, he is spectacularly, wonderfully, stunningly bald. This does not seem to worry him at all but, if I am right, it is certainly going to worry the voters.
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