Darling was voted most boring politician two years running, and after Wednesday's showing he could win the title outright
DID you hear the one about the Chancellor who was so boring that MPs in the House fell asleep? Well, there is no punchline, because it's not a joke.
Sipping water (whatever happened to the wee dram some of his predecessors were so fond of?) at the
dispatch box, Alistair Darling's 7,700 word statement was an insomniac's dream. The raucous, rowdy babble and banter that usually accompanies a Budget speech was hardly in evidence. Indeed, it was so quiet it could easily have been drowned out by synchronised snoring from the backbenches.
According to Wikipedia, Darling was voted the UK's most boring politician two years running, and Wednesday afternoon's monotonous performance could see him winning the title outright.
Poor Darling. Maybe next time he should punctuate his speech with a few political funnies. He could tell them the one about the government economist who left a letter for his wife which read: "Dear Wife, I am 54 years old and by the time you get this letter I will be at the Grand Hotel with my beautiful, sexy 18-year-old secretary." When he arrived at the hotel there was a letter waiting for him from his wife. "Dear Husband, I too am 54 years old and by the time you get this letter I will be at the Savoy Hotel with my 18-year-old tennis coach. Because you are an economist, you will surely appreciate that 18 goes into 54 many more times than 54 goes into 18."
Perhaps he should just give up all together, step away from the dispatch box, park his bottom on the comfy green leather bench, and invite the impressionist Rory Bremner to deliver the Budget speech in his place.
But spare a thought for the poor soul who was tasked with compiling the Budget buzzword breakdown. Yup, he must have been really bad in a previous life to deserve that little number. Counting the number of times the Chancellor uttered specific 'key' words must have been truly mind-numbing; 'year' – 78 times; 'per' – 62 times; 'cent' – 55 times; 'Mr Deputy Speaker' – 40 times.
I checked very carefully. 'Wakey wakey' didn't appear on the list. Well, I reckon it will be up there next time.
For the first time in my life I actually found myself sympathising with the snoozing MPs. Even the twitching and raising of Mr D's much-mocked eyebrows couldn't keep my attention focused, and by the time he announced £12.5m of support for female entrepreneurs across the UK, I had lost all interest. Which is probably just as well, as he had tried my patience more than enough by then and I have precious little to spare at the best of times.
If we're honest, we've all done it. That's caught 40 winks when we shouldn't have, not boring our audience to tears Darling-style. Falling asleep in a meeting or presentation is pretty much commonplace.
I was eight and a half months pregnant the first time I succumbed to the big Zs; it was at a business training course, the excitement of balancing the P&L of a fictitious engineering company in the middle of a self-inflicted cash flow crisis was all too much for me. Fortunately my "bump" was wide awake, and kicked me out of my slumber before I embarrassed myself too much by snoring, talking in my sleep, or worse still, dribbling on the shoulder of the snoozing delegate slumped next to me.
I've listened to many speeches over the years – I've even made a few myself – and it's not as difficult as you would think. Successful speechmaking and engaging with your audience is really all smoke and mirrors. Combine great (concise) content with great delivery, target your audience, and off you go. The late Mo Mowlam had speechifying down to a T. I particularly enjoyed this introduction to a speech she gave in London: "I was very glad to be asked to speak at the dinner. Since I feel that we have to enjoy ourselves as well as work hard, I have tried to make my speech less boring than it was originally. Speaking after dinner has its problems though. Often I am too tired and you are too pissed."
Tony Blair clearly didn't heed her advice (not for the first time). Last November he was slated in the Chinese media for failing to say anything interesting in his reputed £200k speech. What's surprising is that 600 businessmen actually thought he would. In a speech whose Chinese title translated as "From Greatness to Brilliance", he described his personal connections with the country – his sister-in-law is Chinese and his son Leo is studying Mandarin at school. "China is a very special country, and has a special place in the heart of my family," he said. Yawn.
One Chinese journalist quite rightly queried: "Is it worth the money? Do these thoughts multiply in value because they come from the mouth of a retired prime minister?"
I suspect those thoughts weren't worth 200 grand even before he was a retired prime minister.
Which leads me to wonder; boring speeches, boring speakers, it's a chicken and egg question really. Which comes first? Do you have to be a boring person to make a boring speech? Can a boring speech be less boring if delivered by someone who isn't boring? Or could a fascinating speech make a boring person less so? Do we care? It's Sunday, why don't we just snuggle up for an hour or two in front of the telly? We can tune in to BBC Parliament, watch Mr D and his eyebrows all over again and catch some shut-eye. I commend it to the House!
The full article contains 984 words and appears in Scotland On Sunday newspaper.