In politics, accountability is everything. If a politician does something bad, egregious, or downright woeful, we mustn’t ignore it. That’s not to say that we should sensationalise the misdemeanours of politicians or enjoy their errors and mistakes as entertainment. That would be silly. In fact, that would be dangerous. But it is difficult to deny that we need to highlight their errors, expose problems when they arise. For politicians to do well, they need to be kept on their toes.
Historically, this has been possible through that powerful, timeless agent, satire. For centuries – or, more accurately, millennia – satirists have taken aim at the vices of the ruling classes; they have ridiculed their mistakes, their shortcomings, their follies. Now, this has manifested itself in different forms over time. In classical times, days of antiquity, Horace mocked the vices of mankind, gently highlighting people’s flaws, whilst Juvenal spewed indignant rage at those who were unfortunate to come under his satirical eye. In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, there was a proliferation of satirical works: Ben Jonson took aim at human follies, ridiculing the ‘Reformed Gamester’, for example, and later on, Dryden satirised Shaftesbury and Monmouth’s plot to debar the Duke of York from the succession in Absalom and Achitophel – and the satire was only thinly veiled. Whilst satire ridiculed human shortcomings more generally, it also challenged the political figures of the day.
In the modern day, political satire has taken a mixture of forms. The written word is still key: Private Eye, edited by Ian Hislop, is still a familiar sight on the shelves of supermarkets and newsagents; its in-depth research and witty attacks on political problems provide a much needed accountability for the politicians of today. Of course, there are other bodies and outlets which offer scrutiny of politicians: Parliament, we hope, is one of them, along with traditional newspapers, television news bulletins, and that much fabled medium, the podcast. However, whilst these more serious media may uncover the abuses of politicians, scandals in public bodies, satire provides criticism with an edge. When laughs abound, the ridicule is that bit sharper and more entertaining – and, importantly, more problematic for politicians, who have to listen. If the nation is laughing at the government over Partygate or the latest ‘psychodrama’ paralysing the levers of power, politicians are under pressure.
So, it is a shame that satire is less of a force than it used to be. Over the years, there has been an abundance of satirical panel shows on television: popular comedians have given their takes on the politicians of the day, holding them to account with witty asides and a nice helping of irony. Chief amongst these programmes is Have I Got News For You, which offers firm but fair takes on scandals in government: inviting Nigel Farage onto the programme gave a powerful opportunity to expose his politics to the masses, to put his policies and character under the spotlight. Like HIGNFY, other panels shows – including the edgy Mock the Week, irreverent Mash Report, and cutting (perhaps Juvenal-esque) Frankie Boyle’s New World Order – ridiculed political issues. ‘Wine Time Friday’ couldn’t escape the lens of satire, neither could Liz Truss and Kwasi Kwarteng with their infamous mini-budget of ironically astronomical proportions.
It is alarming to see that the proliferation of mainstream satire is far diminished: most of the BBC’s satirical panel shows have bitten the dust, save for HIGNFY which continues in a primetime spot 20 Fridays a year. But The Mash Report, New World Order, and The Ranganation have evaporated from screens; Mock the Week disappeared in 2022 too, and although it may be making a comeback this year, it is in a distant backwater of the schedules rather than its prime position on BBC Two each week. This marks an alarming cultural trend in which the media is less willing to foreground satire of politicians. After years of the Conservatives being lukewarm towards the BBC, it is understandable to see that the BBC reduced its satirical output.
But this is nonetheless an alarming trend: for democracy to work well, there needs to be accountability of politicians; there needs to be scrutiny of government; and, if politicians are to take that seriously – if they are to feel concerned for their political futures and do their jobs well – we need to start protecting satire. A liberal democracy shouldn’t just value its free press for exposing the problems of government; it should value the satirist too for bringing those criticisms to life and applying pressure to politicians. It’s not too late to fix this issue - to compel broadcasters to value satire more. Ultimately, whilst not all issues are laughing matters, to laugh is to stun; to stun is to wound; and to wound is to prompt change.