I’m not sure when the tacit agreement crept in, that if a political leader allowed him or herself to be photographed in a press-office-approved location, partaking in a press-office-approved activity for a press-office-approved minimum amount of time in front of a press-office-approved photographer or agency who would then distribute it to press-office-approved media, that it somehow guaranteed the aforementioned politician a photographic amnesty for the duration of their holiday.
It is however now a ritual that we seemingly have to go through every time a politico, wants to get sand between his toes, paddle in the surf, or build a sand castle that is just not quite the best one on the beach.
Embed from Getty ImagesToday we had the latest in a steady stream of utterly predictable photo-calls with Dave and Sam Cam once again staring lovingly into each other’s eyes over meagre cups of Polzeath’s finest latte. We’ve seen it many times before, and I mean we really have seen it many times before – exactly the same scenario, same expression, maybe even the same latte (it’s probably press-office-approved) – and this gets picked up by the papers who then discuss the colour and vintage of his polo shirt. When they are not in Polzeath, they tend to run the same routine in southern European venue, with the activity of choice usually being to point at some fish on a market stall. In which case, see above for journalists reaction replacing colour of polo shirt with choice of footwear (loafers sans socks caused a furore one year).
This curious dance with press buys him and his family some shelter from prying lenses – well that and the Range Rover full of close protection officers. I have no problem with the expectation of privacy, the media relationship with politicians in particular is unusual in that it is enforced more than chosen and as such there tend to be boundaries – some clear cut, others implicit. What I do have a problem with is the current trade off, largely because I think it is driven by press-officers and media consultants, and I think we are sold a pup every time.
The Camerons will no doubt take a tiny amount of flak for staging the world’s most boring repetitious photo-call yet again. I shouldn’t think they give a flying f**k at a rolling doughnut about any of it. Thirty seconds of contrived coffee drinking and Bob’s-your-uncle off down the beach for some serious sand-castle action.
What I really object to here is the idea that by endlessly accepting this as the status-quo, we the media, just reinforce the position taken by press-officers and the controlling hands that steer these political types, that it is dangerous to be seen outside anything but an entirely contrived situation. Personally I warm far more quickly to someone who can show they are in some way as flawed as me. I love the fact that Mr Cameron struggles to put his shorts on under a Mickey Mouse towel on the beach – who doesn’t? Who can’t relate to that experience?
Politicians are not supermodels, athletes, or indeed in any way perfect; they should be allowed to be overweight, gawky, goofy, and basically real. More like me. Somehow the rule of PR has come to mean that anything near normality is somehow dangerous, it somehow shows weakness, or lays bares flaws in the otherwise perfectly controlled public persona of their charge. And hence we are left with the bloody coffee drinking, fish pointing photo-call.
I understand the trade off with the press, I understand the desire not to have the kids in a photo, I understand only too well the desire not to be photographed in anything that comes close to a sunbathing situation. However there is a middle ground and PR’s, press-officers and politicians should really all have slightly more bottle.
Going back through the archives, it really was never this bad, and the photocalls were generally a lot better.
Embed from Getty ImagesThe Blairs were arch controllers and, sartorial comments aside, this still looks less contrived than today’s.
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Take a top tip from a past master – stage a photocall with something to real to do. What could be more natural than taking the dog for a walk – a dog is a great political prop. Larry the Downing St cat just doesn’t cut it. Sorry Larry.
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In the same vein of having something to do – play safe, play golf. You just can’t fail – hit a great shot and everyone nods in respect, hit a crap shot and everyone simply nods in empathy when you smile and shrug – “know how that feels”.
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Golf again.
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Have something real to do – what is better than a bike ride with the kids. OK its a bit contrived, BUT ITS BETTER THAN COFFEE AND FISH POINTING.
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If you can really do something and its quite cool, then that’s a bonus. John Kerry took it to a slightly different level kitesurfing in 2004.
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Look a man goes swimming in the ocean (he also just happens to be POTUS, and didn’t risk or lose any votes from the publication of this photo)
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There is always the French approach, but this is not recommended for your average Englishman for many reasons.
One of which is that it gets awfully complicated when more than one wife features in these photocalls.
Embed from Getty ImagesPlus they actually do “being in love” kind of for real. Normal rules just don’t really apply here.
Then of course we have the unrivalled king of the holiday photo. The Russian Pres. himself, Mr Vladimyr Putin
He rides horses, he swims in lakes, he fishes, he shoots things, and rides motorcycles, usually with his shirt off and probably roaring like a bear (I think they roar?).
Embed from Getty Images Embed from Getty Images Embed from Getty ImagesBut he is also not afraid to show his softer side and can do staring lovingly just like Dave and Sam
I know that Putin’s holiday snaps are hilarious, but they are also damn side more interesting, a lot more daring and a hell of a lot more engaging than Dave’s. If I were a politician being laughed at for my holiday snaps, I would rather be laughed at for photos of me clearly enjoying myself, and maybe trying a bit too hard, than pictures of me not giving a toss and not trying at all. If any PR’s are listening….
Ramblings of a curmudgeon 