If politics is so boring, why are some politicians selling out on stage?

The stars who can pack a hall are linked in that they all have something to say and can say it with some style

The Sex Pistols cannot guarantee to fill a concert hall any more. Shockingly, there were some unsold tickets when Johnny Rotten and the boys performed a rare gig in London the other day. It is the same sad story for many West End shows this summer. Household names are performing to series of empty rows. As Bruce Forsyth once observed when he bounced on to the stage at the London Palladium, "I wish I had stayed in bed. There were more people there."

This is not a problem for the Conservative MP Ann Widdecombe. When she performs on stage there are quite emphatically more people there than in her bed. This is partly because Miss Widdecombe is the only person who gets near her boudoir. More importantly, she packs out any theatre or hall. I chaired a meeting with her at the Dartington Literary Festival a couple of weekends ago and there was standing room only on a sweltering afternoon. Earlier, the festival had hosted a talk from the "comic genius behind the National Theatre of Brent". The hall was half empty. They came for Miss Widdecombe rather than a comic genius.

Nor is Miss Widdecombe alone. Tony Benn has toured the country, also filling the theatres. Mr Benn has observed, "My left-wing friends have often accused me of selling out. Well, now I definitely have." The same applies to Mo Mowlam who has been getting ecstatic receptions, standing ovations and standing room only. Mr Benn's one-man show was recently broadcast on BBC Four and got rave reviews from television critics, a much more positive reception than political programmes that try to be too clever by half would receive.

There is an odd disjunction here. A common cliché is that most people, especially young people, find politics boring. Admittedly the cliché has been around for decades, although every one who utters it seems to think they have made an original observation. When John Cole was the BBC's Political Editor, he had one or two outbursts when layers of managers "discovered" that people found politics boring. "What do they mean by that?" he asked. It is a lazy observation, not getting beyond the surface.

The BBC has had at least two reviews of political coverage since John Cole's time. Perhaps the BBC should hold a review on why it has got so many managers with spare time to hold reviews. But this is not another column on the BBC's latest review of political coverage, which for all I know may prove to be a substantial piece of work. I cite it only as one example of this disjunction: politics is supposedly boring but Ann Widdecombe can pack 'em in.

A possible explanation is that some of the political stars are promoting books and that audiences are flocking to theatres on these grounds alone. I do not believe this is so. At the meeting I chaired, most of the audience had not read Miss Widdecombe's latest work. They had come to see a politician rather than the new Jane Austen.

Another explanation is that these stars are semi-retired from politics. They have nothing to do with contemporary politics. Again, I do not believe this is the case. Miss Widdecombe, for example, has not ruled out a dramatic return to the shadow cabinet. Mr Benn's meetings are dominated by topical political issues. Ms Mowlam speaks of Northern Ireland and relations between Mr Blair and Mr Brown and her largely young audiences cry out for more.

Nor is it the case that active politicians cannot work their magic on a crowd. When Michael Portillo was Defence Secretary, he created an evangelical fervour at Conservative fringe meetings. But he could also cause a stir elsewhere. It was at a packed meeting of students at Southampton university where he famously argued that academic qualifications were more dodgy in other European countries. When Tony Blair became Labour leader in 1994, he could fill every venue three times over. Often his words were broadcast in overspill rooms.

Who else could "sell out"? In certain circumstances, Gordon Brown, William Hague, Michael Heseltine, John Major, Ken Clarke, Norman Tebbit, Clare Short, Neil Kinnock, David Blunkett and John Prescott could give Johnny Rotten a run for his money. Or how about this? I am told that the former Tory chairman David Davis is scheduled to appear with Tony Benn at the South Bank this autumn. These days Mr Davis probably feels much more affection for Mr Benn than for most of his shadow cabinet. Expect more compelling drama at the meeting than anything on next door at the National Theatre.

There is a message in this for both politicians and the media. The big theatrical public meetings declined in the early 1980s. I recall the Darlington by-election in the March 1983 shaking to the voices of Foot, Kinnock, Healey, Heseltine, Owen and others. But soon after that politicians thought they were being clever by giving TV news bulletins 15-second soundbites instead. Those soundbites, juxtaposed with an opposing 15 seconds from the other side, reduced politics to a playground spat over simplistic banalities. No wonder voters lost interest.

There are signs that active politicians have recognised the problem. Mr Blair's press conferences and his appearance before the Liaison Committee have changed slightly the way he and his Government are perceived. It is no coincidence that there has been less waffle in the media about "spin" since he has spoken in public at length. Some of Gordon Brown's aides contemplated a mini-tour to explain his new "tax and spend" policies. Imagine the slogan outside Wembley Arena: "Tax 'n Spend – the new Rock 'n Roll". Two factors have stopped them from going ahead. The Budget was more popular than they had dared hope, rendering the need for a crusade less necessary. They were also worried that such a move would be seen as a leadership bid. Otherwise Mr Brown would have been rocking at a theatre near you, another sign of politics going back to its roots.

The stars who can pack a hall are linked in that they all have something to say and can say it with some style. This does not necessarily mean they all have clarity of vision. Mr Blair is more engaging when he confesses to the daunting complexities of issues than when he proclaims his "vows" to the people, as he did in one preposterous speech. Mr Benn's performances take us here, there and everywhere, raising many questions en route, but he is a mesmerising guide. Miss Widdecombe knows where she would like to go politically, but not many of us would seek to accompany her. In each case, there is an ebullient style, a willingness to engage with big issues, to break away from the seemingly safe consensual simplicities that have had the paradoxical impact of turning voters away from politics.

More politicians should loosen up. Voters are as hungry for real political debate as they ever were. The media should let politicians loosen up without screaming that they have "gaffed". In the meantime, if you are holidaying in Britain, try to see Miss Widdecombe's end-of-the-pier show, although she has probably "sold out".

s.richards@independent.co.uk