It’s dawning on me that the Prime Minister can’t listen to criticism.
It’s dawning on me that the Prime Minister can’t listen to criticism. I don’t just mean that he can’t respond to criticism; I mean that he literally can’t listen to it. When he came to the European Parliament to drum up support for his spending plans, I made a three-minute speech in favour of balanced budgets. As I talked, he pulled his face into what I think was meant to be a disdainful smirk, then ostentatiously chatted to his officials, then pretended to doodle on a piece of paper. I’ve never doubted Gordon Brown’s convictions: he seems genuinely actuated by a desire to help the poor. But, like many people who are satisfied about the purity of their own motives, he refuses to countenance dissent. It has always been his tragedy. Now it is Britain’s, too.
Brown’s response to the banking crisis is a case in point. He spent a great deal of money and, when that didn’t work, he spent more money. That didn’t work either, so he started borrowing. Then, when he had emptied the Treasury and exhausted the nation’s credit, he turned to his fellow G20 leaders and asked them to pony up. I keep wanting to shout, Cromwell-like, ‘I beseech you, in the bowels of Christ, think it possible you may be mistaken!’
At the time of writing, 1.8 million people have watched the video of my speech on YouTube. It was briefly the most popular clip in the world, and has become the most watched political clip in Britain to date. Since it has barely featured on television, many bloggers are using the episode to revive their familiar plaint that the ‘MSM’ (mainstream media) are out of touch with public opinion.

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