[Robyn Drury]
Oh, to be a celebrity; to inhabit that murky world of fame, flashbulbs and freebies. Who could possibly resist? Who, after all, wouldn’t want their marital strife solemnly dissected in the weekly glossies, or their bins rifled through by packs of paparazzi? For decades this has been the domain of the “celeb” – the actors, the musicians, the entertainers – and we have watched the private lives of our favourite figures played out on a very public stage. Now, however, we have an entirely new breed of celebrity: our very own politicians. Where once their lives away from affairs of the State were – for the most part – kept under wraps, we are now well acquainted with their families, their hobbies and – God forbid – their feelings.
Indeed, in recent weeks we have been treated to the school-run exploits of David Miliband, as lovingly outlined in a four-page spread in The Mirror. The interview, along with a second in The Times Weekend supplement, was accompanied by photographs of Miliband in ‘off-duty’ apparel, at home and with his family. Clearly, and perhaps understandably, he was using such tactics (seen so often in the pages of Hello! Magazine with a very different kind of celebrity in front of the lens) to boost the flagging popularity of his party: oh look, he’s a family man! How wholesome! The question is, however, whether the private lives of politicians should play such a public role in the political sphere. Really, do we even care?
It has to be said that these tactics have worked brilliantly for the other Dave in British politics – Conservative leader David Cameron. Ever since his successful leadership campaign, he has racked up an impressive amount of column inches – and not just for his policies. We’ve seen the pictures of his family holidays, we’ve learnt how he met his wife, how he raises his children. We have even seen his kitchen: you probably know more about him than you do some of your acquaintances. This is all very well, and I’m sure that “Dave” is a nice guy, but it’s distracting. As a discerning, voting public, it’s not the family life of our politicians that we should be interested in; we should be concerned with party policies, and little else.
The vehement reactions of the public and the media to some of these private matters is not only distracting, but also disconcerting. Take Sarah Palin, John McCain’s Republican running mate. Her decision to bring her family into her campaign, to discuss their “ups and downs”, met with mixed response. On the one hand, Palin “struck a chord” with many disillusioned voters; on the other, she faced hostility which was, frankly, unpleasant. The focus of the liberal media on her teenage daughter’s pregnancy – which is in no way related to Palin’s politics – was demeaning. Her policies may well be highly questionable, but that does not justify the crude character assassinations that her family, and in particular her daughter, have undergone.
Our fascination with celebrity culture now means that, whether or not politicians court the publicity, the press have an all-access pass into their private lives. Even those who retain an air of mystery, such as the French Minister of Justice, Rachida Dati, aren’t immune from this. When Dati, 42 and single, recently announced that she was pregnant, the French press was simply desperate to uncover the details, prompting Dati to note that her “complicated” private life is “not a novel”. Yet still the media chooses to focus their attention on the pregnancy, rather than the Minister of Justice’s extensive prison reforms. It’s an uncomfortable relationship: whilst it might satisfy public curiosity, it exposes politicians to a level of scrutiny that should be reserved for their politics and, indeed, overshadows the real reason why these people are in the public eye.
The truth is, we are curious. We buy the newspapers and the magazines, we watch the television coverage. Whether or not the media propagates this curiosity is another question – but it doesn’t change the obvious interest in the private lives of public figures. As such, we will continue to look through the political keyhole, and the already blurred line between the public and the private domain will continue to diminish. The real test, for the casual observer, will be that of separating our subjective judgements of the politicians from the much more objective ones of their policies. The question of whether the media will make this already-difficult task any more tricky remains unanswered.
