Politics as Entertainment: The Provisional Oscars

BoJo the clown.

I am hoping Boris Johnson wins the UK Tory leadership. Because politics is entertainment, and he is a skilled entertainer.

I make no apologies for this view. Politics otherwise accomplishes very little. And should probably not attempt to do more, since anything it does is coercive. The best a political leader can do for any electorate is to entertain and inspire, to get them through the mire in better spirits.

Most people, whether fully aware of it or not, also seem to choose political leaders for entertainment or for inspiration value, not really for any other reason. They choose someone they want to see regularly on their TV for the next four years. This was Hillary Clinton’s fatal flaw, and Barack Obama’s strength.

Will Ferguson wrote a humorous history of Canada called Bastards and Boneheads, evaluating each of Canada’s prime ministers. He got it gravely wrong. He ranked first ministers in terms of whether they managed to impose their will—“bastards”—or had others’ wills imposed on them—“boneheads.” Very wrong, I think, in a democracy, totalitarian in tone, and cynical.

I think it far more meaningful to rank the PMs in terms of their entertainment or inspiration value. A far better measure of their real relative success in the job.

Citing only the premiers I remember personally:

Any excuse to run a picture of John Diefenbaker.

John Diefenbaker 

Probably the greatest Canadian political entertainer in my lifetime. Unfortunately, he was perfectly cast for the role of opposition leader, not prime minister. His specialty, honed in the courtroom, was righteous indignation. In power, he was paralyzed by a lack of enemies. He did his best, but it was no longer plausible. A comic who lost his straight man.

Lester Pearson 

If Diefenbaker was shaped by his experience as a defense attorney, Pearson was shaped by his career as a diplomat. His instinct was to stay out of the camera frame. His idea of leadership was to let each minister make of his or her portfolio what they would, while he just tried to keep them on speaking terms. This led to vastly entertaining politics, the emergence of stars in supporting roles like Judy LaMarsh, Walter Gordon, Paul Hellyer, Jack Pickersgill, and Joe Greene, not to mention Pierre Trudeau, John Turner, and Jean Chretien; but it served Pearson’s own career poorly. And led to a period of over-government.

The complete entertainer. And you knew I was going to run this picture.

Pierre Trudeau

Trudeau was well aware of being a performer—he has said as much, in critiquing his early performances. And he did a great job of it; he understood the importance of style. The role he played was a matinee idol, roughly in the 60s tradition of James Bond. He was both inspiring and entertaining.

Joe Clark

Anyone immediately following Trudeau was sure to get bad reviews. Clark was physically and verbally awkward and had no stage presence. “Joe Who?” was not just a comment on the public’s initial lack of familiarity with him. It lingered long after that. It was his inability to play any kind of recognizable part.

John Turner

Turner shared with Clark the misfortune of following Trudeau. Running the cartoon after the main feature never works. Just like Clark, by comparison with the master, he always seemed physically awkward, and as though he could never get into character. He was always too aware of being on stage. He could not say his lines with conviction: “I had no choice.” “I happen to believe you sold us out.”

Brian Mulroney

Mulroney by contrast had it easy. To win, he only had to come across as more interesting than John Turner, who seemed to give the term “empty suit” a bad name. Mulroney’s rhetorical talent was limited, but he had some. He failed, in the end, because he thought he had more than he did. Things he said to inspire instead came across as hollow boasting. He could not make the audience believe.

Jean Chretien

After Trudeau, Chretien is the master. But in a lesser way. Trudeau could both entertain and inspire. Chretien could only entertain. He had a fine and a long run with his nicely rough-hewn “p’tit gars de Shawinigan” persona. It was more than a little corny, but he was great, and lovable, at it.

Paul Martin

To some extent, Martin failed for the same reasons Clark or Turner did: the public had become accustomed to someone more interesting. He was perhaps the best finance minister Canada ever had. But that takes different skills to be PM. He could not convey a character or a conviction. That’s why he got the “Mr. Dithers” label. It was his equivalent of “Joe Who?” 

Just look into those steel-grey eyes. And don't try anything funny.

Stephen Harper

Harper is the anomaly in this thesis. He is conspicuously grey and boring. And yet he won several elections. Partly, he was lucky in his adversaries: Martin, then Dion, then Ignatieff. Compare the ahistorical surge of party three under Jack Layton: at least the NDP had given the public someone interesting to watch.

It is also not entirely fair to see Harper as a bad actor. He was really a good actor who chose the role of a quiet manager, a part that required avoiding histrionics. It is far from easy to be a great straight man. And a great straight man is also entertaining. I don’t know about others, but for me, Frank Shuster was always more interesting to watch than Johnny Wayne. Martin was more interesting than Lewis. George Burns was more interesting than Gracie Allen. The greatest comedians are often straight men: Emmett Kelly, Buster Keaton.

Harper seemed to be well aware of what he was doing, too. He more or less told Canadians that there are more important things in life than politics. Like hockey. “No surprises” and “no hidden agendas” were pretty much the watchwords of his administration.

Why didn’t Harper get tagged with a moniker like “Mr. Dithers” or “Stephen Who?” Because he did not bill himself as offering thrills or high drama. That is the key: he did not fail at a role. He succeeded brilliantly.

Justin Trudeau

Petit Patate is well aware of the need to entertain, which he surely learned at his father’s knee. That may be why he gravitated to substitute drama teaching in the first place. He just turns out to be utterly talentless.

It is painful, as with his India trip, to watch him try. Pure Gong Show.

On this basis, Boris Johnson is the UK Tories' only hope to remain in power. He may be their only hope to remain a major party. Nigel Farage is just too entertaining.

Le deluge.

Now, on this same principle, you might ask, who’s the best bet down in the old Etats-Unis?

Trump, I say, is probably unbeatable. Who was ever more entertaining than Trump? He honed his routine on reality TV, and he knows exactly what he is doing.

But among the Democratic contenders, who would be their best bet?

Not Biden. Biden is a decent red-faced clown, but Trump is also a red-faced clown, and Trump does it better than Biden can. The Democrats’ only hope is that the public may be bored with red-faced clowns. They need to try a change of pace. Like in an old variety show. What act best follows a red-faced clown?

But of course: the pretty woman on the high trapeze. 

Tulsi Gabbard. You can’t say she’s not nice to look at. She comes across, so far, as more sincere than anyone else in the pack. And her seriousness and dignity contrasts well to Trump’s clownishness. If people are sick of Trump, she is the anti-Trump. If he tried to insult her as he does Elizabeth Warren or Hillary Clinton, I think it would only earn her sympathy. At least from all the men.

Bernie Sanders is probably next best. Again, it’s the apparent sincerity, which is another way of saying he is a skilled natural actor. He’s like the tall magician in black who pulls pigeons out of his hat. He promises impossible things fiscally, and voters are liable to want to see how he intends to pull it off.

Andrew Yang is the other name that comes to mind. Same act.

Unfortunately, such magician acts do tend to be easily parodied and disrupted by a red-faced clown.