SPECTATOR'S NOTEBOOK
J. W. M. THOMPSON
'Image sb. . . 1. An artificial imitation or representation of the external form of any object, esp. of a person . . Etc„ etc. (Shorter Oxford Dictionary.) Yes: but if only we could be rid of the pestilential use of this noun in
the political context; and, more important, of the dismal habit of mind which has made it the master-word of the hour. I've read this week of good and bad images (of course), of wobbly images and failing images, of tough images and even of an image suffering a set- back. It's an obsession which belongs to the advertising world; its effect upon politics seems altogether damaging. Is George Brown a good foreign secretary? That's not the point: what matters is whether or not his image was im- proved by his public soul-searching about his drinking habits. Would Edward Heath make a good prime minister? Never mind : what really matters is how this image fared during all that chat about whether he has a warm personality or not, chat about his image, in fact. And, as the political debate proceeds along these super- ficial and gossipy lines, the nation is accused of developing, very reasonably in the circum- stances, a yawning fatigue over the whole business. This image nonsense is what lies be- hind (he bear-baiting exhibitions which, Mr Crossman denounced on_ Tuesday. Of course politicians ought to face the sternest possible questioning: instead of that all too often in the press and on television there is an endless picking over of their personal characteristics, all in the name of examining their images. It's an irrelevant and tedious fashion, and poli- ticians themselves ought to have more wisdom than to indulge it.
Sabbatical
The legislative programme awaiting the new session of Parliament promises the normal load of congestion and overwork. The Commons never fail, to set themselves a great mountain of new law to trundle and shove through the parliamentary pipeline, usually with many a virtuous 'groan. I see a fine old mixture of faMiliar subject-matter visible already: laws about leisure, and gambling, and drugs, and race relations, and much more besides (not forgetting the trendiest of all, decimal money). A. such a time I think of Lord Palmerston. His view was the precise opposite of today's. Once he was asked what he wished the Queen's Speech to contain by way of proposals for domestic legislation. 'Oh, there's really nothing to be done,' he replied. 'We cannot go on adding to the statute book ad infinitum. Perhaps we may have a little law reform, or bankruptcy reform: but we cannot go on legislating for ever.'
I'm sure we're all indebted to nes for the rich flood of new Acts of Parliament which flows unendingly about us. Nevertheless, my own private plan for parliamentary reform would lighten their burdens substantially by instituting a regular sabbatical, or palmer- stonian, session. During this period no new laws would be passed whatsover, except a few specified annuals like the Finance Bill. Members would repeal old laws and discuss without haste such lofty or otherwise agree- able themes as engaged their interest. They would also be encouraged to travel, and read poetry, and frequent art galleries, and follow other useful and improving pursuits. Perhaps Mr Crossman will look into this—if, that is, he can find the time.
Closing time
Enough time has now elapsed to suggest that Mrs Castle's promise of a 'social revolution' about drinking may well be fulfilled. At any rate, I note that one spokesman for the licensed trade has feelingly proposed a government sub- sidy to help recoup the losses inflicted by the breathalyser. It would be a revolution indeed if the revenue's favourite prop were to go on the dole at last. (Incidentally, does any change, anywhere, occur nowadays without someone proposing a subsidy to meet it?) And all that one hears about the damage done to pub trade by the new law indicates that obedient motorists are trying hard to change their ways. I know of one country landlord, hitherto tolerably prosperous, who claims to have had no customers at all on one recent evening., This desertion is not primarily a blow to traditional village or rural life, as has been said, but may, actually prove to be a slight check to the suburbanisation of everywhere. ,It is the tarted-up village inn, remodelled with the single aim of attracting motor trade from a .distance, which is likely to take the hardest knock. A typical example I know of is a village pub which ten years ago produced a meagre living for its tenant by selling beer to local farm workers. A new management came along, rebuilt the ,place in expensive bogus Tudor, discouraged the rustics with their unprofitable pints, and relied upon a large car park to produce business. It duly did so. The affluent suburbanites who patronise these places, and enjoy a pleasant notion of rusticity with their liquor, are somewhat in the tradition of the courtly shepherds and shepherdesses of Versailles. It would be an innocent enough whim, but for the lethal car. No doubt their first fear of the new law will wane a bit. Even so, the outlook for these village gin-palaces is decidedly dimmed.
Expensive
Sir Malcolm Sargent was one of the sponsors of an uncontroversial piece of ecumenism which ought to attract support from beyond the usual church quarters. As a lover and leader of choral music he knew that the stan- dard of cathedral music is today as high as it has ever been, if not higher. At the same time he recognised that the cost of maintaining the great professional choirs is now so great as to threaten their whole future. Hence his support for the Church Music Trust, which is now appealing for £250,000 to secure the future of three of tbem—those at St Paul's, Westminster Abbey, and. Westminster Cathedral. Like most good things, church music of the quality main- tained there has become steadily more expen- sive in modern conditions. The cost of the music at St Paul's, for example, is some £42,000 a year. This joint appeal' by Anglicans and Catholics is designed to resist pressures which otherwise must lead to an impoverishment of musical standards generally. It would be appro- priate if, for a start, the congregation at next week's Abbey memorial service to Sir Malcolm saw in this appeal an opportunity to support work he valued very highly.
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