Political coverage: Are they boring you?

The promised revolution from the BBC has not materialised. Good thing too, says Steve Richards - politics isn't meant to be fun

The media brouhaha surrounding the BBC's latest review of political coverage created a false sense of excitement, rather like some of the BBC's reporting of politics itself. Such was the frenzy, it would have been no surprise if Mickey Mouse and Anthea Turner had become joint presenters of a new programme. Instead, when the review was unveiled last week we got Jeremy Vine, or rather, more of Jeremy Vine with some incremental changes.

BBC executives are in a state of perpetual agony about political coverage, partly for the noble reason that some of them care about making the subject more accessible; partly because the BBC – never knowingly understaffed when it comes to political coverage – has plenty of middle managers with time on their hands to agonise. Each review begins with lofty, but ill-defined, objectives and ends with relatively small changes after months of expensive hand-wringing and rows with politicians.

I was involved in the margins of a previous review as a BBC political correspondent in the mid-1990s. After a year or so of meandering meetings, the conclusion was reached that there should be more "politics outside Westminster". The only practical consequence was that a BBC political correspondent, Lance Price, toured the country producing the occasional two-minute report from places such as the Isle of Skye in which "real people" expressed their worries about Government or Opposition policy. Every now and again the cry would go up in the BBC's vast Westminster HQ: "Where's Lance?" No one seemed to know. He returned after a few months looking tanned and relaxed, and went to work for Tony Blair. The BBC's Westminster bureaucrats declared the entire exercise a triumph, an illustration of a new way of reporting politics.

The BBC is not alone in its agonising. Not long ago, I had lunch with an executive from Channel Four. He was interested in exploring new ways of reporting politics. No, that is not quite correct. He himself was fascinated by what was happening in the Cabinet, the relationships, the policy implications and the future of the Tories. That is what we talked about for an hour and a half. Only at the end did he say he wanted to create a new politics programme out of London in which "ordinary people" would take part. This would attract "ordinary people" to watch. Clearly, this executive was not gripped by the contents of such a programme, or he would have spent less time asking me what was happening at Westminster. It is just that he thought he should be doing something different, that others would love it even if he would not. Thankfully, this programme was never made, although I seem to remember reading a script in which one introduction went along the lines of: "Joining me now are a lorry driver from Portsmouth, a ballerina from Keighley and a Conservative MP."

A fellow political columnist had a similar lunch with a leading member of an independent production company. Towards the end he was told that the company had a commission to find new ways of reporting politics. The company had come up with an idea to travel around Britain speaking to "ordinary people". Was my fellow columnist interested? He was. Then he was told that the idea was for him to interview the "ordinary people" on horseback. This would make good television. He pulled out on the grounds that he could not ride a horse.

Why are broadcasters so exercised by finding new, contorted ways of reporting politics, one of which bizarrely extends to a suntanned Lance Price conducting a vox pop on the Isle of Skye? In my view, they need to come to terms with the hugely inhibiting constraints that limit what broadcasters can do with politics and then make the best of it. Newspapers have not been going through the same introspective agonies. Indeed, the opposite is the case. The pages of the Sun and the Daily Mirror are stuffed with politics. But newspapers, unlike broadcasters, can take a point of view. That is why there is a depressing tendency on some BBC outlets to overplay stories about "sleaze", "spin" and "splits". On these non-policy issues the BBC journalists can take a view as well. It is not necessarily biased to suggest a party is split or that there is sleaze everywhere. At its worst, this has led to macho but "impartial" posturing from some BBC apparatchiks along the lines of "All politicians are a bunch of untrustworthy bastards". They want to hold a view and that is the only view they are allowed to hold.

Most of the time, a good interview is more dramatic on TV than in print. What makes a good interview? The Paxman interviews with Tony Blair on Newsnight were one of the political events of the year. A pivotal, brave decision was taken to run them at length over three nights. That is the type of simple editorial decision that is far more inspired than creating an unwatchable programme involving a columnist on horseback. The Blair interviews would have captivated young people with a passing interest in politics, which is the best that can be hoped for.

There are other ways of approaching interviews with politicians. When I interview them for GMTV's Sunday Programme, the Independent and, previously, for the New Statesman, I take the view that here is the chance for a conversation with interesting, ambitious, often insecure ministers and shadow ministers facing seemingly intractable problems. We seem to get substantial news stories on an almost weekly basis without seeking to "catch them out" or treating them like criminals, but perhaps I commit the cardinal sin of liking politicians and even admiring some of them. There are many other interviewing styles and ways of approaching politicians. This is the domain for the broadcasters' introspection, not worrying about getting someone to ride a horse. Here is another realistic theme: how can broadcasters get the best out of a more subtle political situation compared with the early 1980s, when the two main parties were falling apart on the airwaves? I recall watching some of the drama on TV at university with friends who had virtually no interest in politics. They were gripped. Again, no one was riding on horseback.

Finally, what of Jeremy Vine? He is an old colleague and friend, so I will confine this to a single sentence: somehow he manages to combine the qualities of Sir David Frost and Tony Blackburn. Could there be a bigger compliment?

Steve Richards is an 'Independent on Sunday' columnist and presents GMTV's 'Sunday Programme'. He was a BBC political correspondent from 1992-96