The humiliation of Chloe Smith at the hands of Jeremy Paxman last night was likened by one twitterati to watching a cat playing with a mouse before devouring it.
Of course, Smith was hung out to dry by Osborne&Co. But I want to address another, as yet unremarked upon factor: the age gap between Paxman and Smith. Paxman is 62; Smith is 30. In the words of Robin Day, politicians are ‘here today, gone tomorrow’. The result is that as the years go by, politicians get younger and political interviewers get older.
In the days when the political class was a generation or two older than the interviewing class, the tone was deferential, which was no good for democratic accountability. Today, it’s the interviewing class that is a generation or two older than the politicians. And this has changed the tone, manner and content of many political interviews, and not always in a good way.
The dynamic between the politician and the interviewer is now such that political interviews often fail to produce useful answers. It requires a particular kind of political interviewer to recognize that the person in front you wields real power and influence and — even though they may be the same age as your children — deserves to be treated with respect.
Broadcasting is a young industry. In 1959 the non-deferential political interview took off when Robin Day then 35, interviewed Prime Minister Harold MacMillan, who was 64. The Daily Express called it ‘the most vigorous cross-examination a prime minister has been subjected to in public’.
During the ‘60s and ‘70s, the political interview became a staple diet of radio and television. Back in the 60s, the likes of David Frost were in their ‘20s, while politicians — not necessarily as old as MacMillan — were nevertheless in their ‘40s and ‘50s. By the ‘70s, as political interviewers gained experience, the older politicians of the ‘60s left the field to be replaced by a younger generation. The gap was closing but still there: David Dimbleby, who was then making a name for himself, was in his 30s, while Tony Benn was in his 40s.
By the ‘80s, though, the gap had narrowed considerably. Brain Walden, perhaps the best political interviewer of his generation, was in his prime at 50 when he presented Weekend World. His interviewees, Thatcher’s first Cabinet, were of similar age: Margaret Thatcher was 7 years older, Norman Tebbit was just one year older. These were interviews conducted by both sides as a meeting of equals, courteous but forensic.
However, there were straws in the wind about how things might change. Robin Day, a pioneer, was now getting on. In 1982, he was 59 and John Nott, then Secretary of State for Defence, was 50. Day said ‘here today, gone tomorrow’ to Nott, who famously walked off the set.
By the time of the Blair premiership, baby boomers were sitting either side of the interview table. There wasn’t much in it. Both sides punched their weights — sometimes to a standstill. Who can forget the famous Paxman/Howard exchange in 1997 when Paxman (47) asked the same question 14 times to Michael Howard (56), then Home Secretary?
And so to today. The presenters of the Today programme and Newsnight are no longer whippersnappers. They were interviewing cabinet ministers and prime ministers when the hapless politician facing them was still at school. Most interviews are a mismatch: the boxing equivalent of a heavyweight versus a lightweight. Knockabout has become the norm. The desire to make sport of a young politician is hard to resist. It takes something to set that aside and focus on extracting things that really matter to people’s lives, to ask the question that needs answering. Such questions may not be the ones that offer the best sport.
Samir Shah is a former BBC head of current affairs and political programmes.