The Pope’s brilliant PR

‘Show, don’t tell’ is the mantra of PR advisers when telling public figures how to communicate. Pope Francis’s technique does both at once. By confessing his sins to what the media call ‘an ordinary priest’ in St Peter’s basilica without entering the confessional box, he seemed almost to be boasting that he is, like everyone, a sinner. I hope he does not take it into his head to make public the content as well as the fact of his confession. That would be what the Twitter generation calls TMI. But the gesture of openness worked. It helped to remind people that confession, far from being — as suggested by John Cornwell’s new book The Dark Box — a weird rite designed to encourage paedophilia, is a way of lightening the heart. Sins are unloveable: sinners aren’t. So it is good to wipe away the first and forgive the second. Holy Week, of course, is the season when people are most inclined to confess. On Monday night, in our local Catholic church, there was a special service of penitence, followed by individual confessions. Thanks perhaps to Pope Francis, the atmosphere was cheerful. I must confess — if it requires confession — that I enjoyed it.

A friend has sent me a copy of a memo sent by the Financial Secretary to the Treasury (William Glenvil Hall) to the Chancellor of the Exchequer (Hugh Dalton) on 19 September 1945. It discusses the salaries and expenses of MPs and ministers. At that time, MPs received £600 a year (roughly £22,000 today). The memo recommends no increase. It argues, however, that free travel facilities should be extended to allow Members to travel between London and their homes (generally assumed not to be in their constituencies), and that ‘consideration should be given’ to ‘providing a secretarial service to Members at reasonable rates’.