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Friday 10 February 2012

Shared Opinion

Labour thinks that we are sheep that need to be driven, not goats who need to be led

As time moves on, and we forget about their slurs and their malice and their rather telling fantasies about seeing George Osborne dressed up as Marlene Dietrich, perhaps what we should remember about Gordon Brown’s inner circle is their control freakery. They don’t trust hospitals to heal, they don’t trust schools to teach, and they don’t even trust scurrilous anonymous blogs to make up their own unsubstantiated gossip. They look out across this land and they see only sheep. Whereas, in fact, we are goats. No, seriously. It’s a good analogy. At least, I think it is. Let’s see.

It comes from the great Terry Pratchett. ‘For sheep,’ he wrote, about something entirely different, ‘are stupid, and have to be driven. But goats are intelligent, and need to be led.’ If Damian McBride and Derek Draper thought they were dealing with goats, is my point, they wouldn’t have tried so hard. A few quiet whispers in a few friendly pointed ears. ‘Have a go at so-and-so. Shhh.’ But no. McBride looks out, and sees only sheep. ‘I’m going to have to do it all myself,’ he sighs, and he does, right down to the punctuation.

Why, I wonder, is spin always regarded as Machiavellian or mendacious? Spin is about panic. Spin is what you do when you don’t trust the messenger, or the message. When you don’t have a firm grip on the plates, but you can’t afford to let them come crashing down, spin is your last resort.

It must be such an exhausting way to live. The most shocking thing about last weekend’s brouhaha, I reckon, was the revelation that McBride is only 34. That’s only two years older than me. We may have been contemporaries at Cambridge. From the photos, I’d always assumed the poor bloke was half a generation away. All pies and suits and gut and booze and disasters waiting to happen behind the rib cage. His master’s voice and his master’s body, too. That’s what New Labour looks like these days. That’s what happens if you don’t trust anybody with anything. You go to seed.

More articles from: Hugo Rifkind | this section

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