Clive Gammon on the election's witness box
Mr Wilson, according to Peter Harland of the Observer who has been accompanying him on his travels, doesn't want to be bothered too much by the press. "He clearly appreciates," Mr Harland says. "That a modern election is won and lost on the television screen. Well, that's a nasty pill for any writer to swallow but most of us crunched it up a long time ago. It's the telly that counts and it's understandable therefore, in a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am election like this one, that saturation coverage is no more than one can expect and that over exposure, as a concept, commands about as much belief among politicians as little green men on Alpha Centaurus Three do with the Astronomer Royal.
But does it with the viewing public? Is there a danger that constant viewing of, let's say, the homely features of Mr Denis Healey or Mr Robin Day may lead to an exasperated indifference or at best an obsession with trivia like a day-by-day comparison of the degree of richness of colouration of Mr Heath's bonny cheeks. (I've always said you don't know what you're missing if you don't have a colour set.) Could the bewildering rapidity with which opposing points of View succeed one another, all in perfect balance at least time-wise, have something to do with the notorious vola tility of recent years of the British electorate? Or even with the growing contempt in which politicians are held in this country?
Such subtle questions were not considered by the National Viewers and Listeners Association last week when their secretary, Mrs Mary Whitehouse declared on behalf of her 15,000 members that their minds were being numbed by politicians repeating the same lies. I don't know the critical level of telly-time at which numbness begins to establish itself in the brain of NVLA members but it is clearly below the two-hour-plus that the BBC puts out most nights with rather less on ITV. "People are beginning to feel very battered indeed," Mrs Whitehouse is reported to have said plaintively. "They feel they are being got at all the time."
Well, they are, of course. That's the whole point. Once you've realised that you're being got at you are well on the way to evaluating what is being said, so that it is particularly Important that your brain shouldn't be numb at the time. Perhaps there is scope for raising the temperature of party political broadcasts so that a simmering, rather than numbing, ettect should take place on the minds of members of the NVLA, Jim Callaghan finishing up with a saucy number in drag, for instance, or the Prime Minister whipping off his Union Jack underpants with a big teasing grin just as the lights black out.
But come now, we must take this topic entirely seriously — as I did on Friday night having been abroad when the first shots of the election were exchanged and having been frightened by imperfectly understood stories in France-Soir which seemed to indicatte that we were all going down the chute fast.
Since events move fast these days, maybe I should remind you that it was on Friday that the figures were announced of the price rises last year and the cost of food looked like becoming the main issue of the campaign. The 5.45 p.m. news on BBC I was the first indication of this for me, Alastair Burnett looking me steadily in the eye for a full second before letting me know. Mr Heath, enjoying pride of place in the quickie interviews that followed seemed flustered enough to refer to "the Labour government" as if it were already a fact and by the time I'd reached for the switch to mute the ruddiness of those everincreasingly dazzling cheeks he was talking about a butcher from Perry Bar who had told him that while housewives complained when meat prices went up they didn't thank him when they came down. Also an old age pensioner declared that she had never had it so good.
Then it was Harold's turn. (At the risk of re-stating the obvious, it's the fault of television that we now have presidential-style elections). He looked somewhat jaded but still able to move on to the offensive.
After the news, there was a special bit for us Welsh, and Election Forum with Gwynfor Evans being treated with extreme deference by two Cardiff interviewers. Gwynfor, in spite of being soft on the silly and boring Welsh Language Society (indeed he refused to condemn its illegal activities) was instantly recognisable as being different in kind, as well as being about three times as bright as either Harold or Ted and this is why I spend time on him and his tiny party. A passionate honesty is something signally missing in telly politics but it was present here. "We generate more electricity per head than any other country in the world," he said. Welshmen may take their nationality more seriously in this election than in the days when Lady Megan Lloyd George at Carmarthen, demanding passionately what it was that Wales needed above all else, was answered from the crowd with, "two centres and a scrum half."
The, 9 p.m. news had our presidents back on again in reverse order though the real news was the Lloyds Bank profit of E130 million. ("I'm not em barrassed," said the Vice-Chairman). After that the real in-fight ing started, with Robin Day working over Sir Geoffrey Howe on prices. "That's a fat lot of use to the housewife," said bold Robin adding, after an insolent pause, "with respect." .
Then there was one of your actual party political broadcasts in troduced by Denis Healey but with Shirley Williams starring on prices and in my judgement this was the stuff that votes are made of — a super pro job. I switched over to ITV for the last bout, Robert Kee versus Ted Heath who kept shifting expertly out of trouble but was plainly glad to hear the bell.
I really can't imagine what Mary wants. A perpetual Crossroads, I suppose, with a leavening of easy-listening pop. Myself, I'm enjoying every moment of the current bash-up. Now, we're out of the World Cup, it's the last bit of real action we can expect until they impeach Nixon.
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