PMQ's: Just say no to "sober and serious"

David Cameron won the weekly exchanges at Prime Minister’s Questions today. By some distance. He should not have done so.

The Labour Party had three or four good subjects to lead on—not least the issue of bankers' bonuses occasioned by the attempt by the Royal Bank of Scotland (mainly Government owned) to allow bonuses to be paid of more than 100 per cent of salary. Labour is due to make some big announcements on Friday about banking so here was an opportunity to build up steam. Yet, Ed Miliband failed to land any significant blows.

So, why the strangely missed goals from Labour?

The answer came after PMQ’s when Ed Milliband’s spokesmen briefed the mildly bamboozled ladies and gentlemen of the press on the Labour leader’s decision to change the tone of the weekly session to “sober and serious”.

What this meant in practice was that Miliband was quiet, subdued and restrained in his questioning. And that Balls—usually so readily (and effectively) pugilistic—kept his interjections to himself and his hands clasped tightly to his squeezed middle. In contrast, the Prime Minister had his backbenches baying in full cry, this despite the fact that over 90 of them have been otherwise busy writing him angry letters of complaint. Meanwhile, the Labour benches sat there like a scold of outraged aunties at a regional meeting of the Temperance Society.

In other words, the new “sober and serious” approach is a mistake. Four reasons:

First, Questions to the Prime Minister may well be an institutional oddity. But it is what it is: noisy, rambunctious, serious, exhilarating, and yet also fluid, fun and engaging. (This last is why the public tune in). And it takes place in a crowded echo chamber with over three dozen microphones. Staying sober and serious can only work if the opposition co-operate, which they won’t, because they never do. One side cannot unilaterally reformat the occasion.

Second, sobriety can come across as prim. And prim, prissy and priggish are words that Ed Miliband must avoid—partly because they allow the Conservatives to appear fun, relaxed, even amusing.

Third, PMQs is where the troops see their leader in the flesh. A quiet frontman is simply drowned out. Labour’s high command might feel that they are making a good intellectual point about moral seriousness (and they are) but emotionally the rank and file backbenchers feel that they are losing ground again.

And finally, the (non tribal) public who catch PMQs twice or thrice a year don’t have the time to parse the thinking that has gone into such and such a new tone or demeanour. They see one side laughing and joking behind a confident leader and their instinct is to admire him emotionally, even if they disagree with him intellectually.

Politics is not just PMQ’s, of course. Far from it. And there are big victories to be had elsewhere—but if you want to win in this arena, then you have to gladiate. And that means suppleness and subtlety: serious one moment—sober, lethal even—but sunny and spirited the next. That’s the job.