Brian Jenner is a freelance speechwriter.
Two years ago I faced a dilemma. Pursue an ambition to be a Conservative councillor or carry on learning to salsa dance three evenings a week.
I chose salsa dancing. And I’m delighted I did, because it has taught me so much more about politics. Over time I’ve noticed that the majority of salsa teachers have charisma and sex appeal. They inspire devotion, unlike most local councillors. They also tend to be highly articulate and funny, even when English is not their first language.
How do they do it? Hard work. They attend four or five public meetings a week. They address small and large audiences. They talk about something they are passionate about and which doesn’t lend itself to many academic theories. They don’t speak from notes: they end up saying the same things most nights, which means they polish their jokes and asides. They’re usually communicating the joy of what they do.
Contrast this with the way politicians operate. They deliver speeches using passive tenses, peppered with shoulds and oughts. They don’t use images or tell stories.
They reveal very few of their own feelings and they emasculate or even omit verbs. They talk about things that only obsess political geeks: all rational analysis and no emotions. Their speeches are usually as flat and uninspiring as their university essays were.
Last year I went to Washington to hear the psychologist Drew Westen talk about political speechmaking. He’s written a brilliant book called The Political Brain. It’s all about the importance of emotion in politics. He says that all that matters is how we feel after a politician has said something.
The cornerstone of a political campaign, according to Drew Westen, is the story. Every political party needs to devise a story that it uses to communicate its values, interpret history and reach out to floating voters. Get the story right, and everyone will start singing the same tune. Westen describes Ronald Reagan’s agenda as having “crystal-clear narrative coherence and emotional resonance”.
I’ve given it some thought, and concluded that the Conservative Party only has one emotionally-compelling historical purpose. It manages recovery.
As my mother puts it, “Whenever the country is in a mess, we always have the Conservatives back, because the Conservatives are the ones with all the brains.”
I cringe. But I have to admit that the statement is simple and emotionally resonant. David Cameron should sign her up for a Party Political Broadcast.
