Why satire is no joke any more

What has happened to political satire?

The journalist John Walsh recently argued that “there is a groundswell of opinion that too many stand-ups are smug, over paid, potty mouthed enemies of the common people”.

By way of evidence he could have cited a recent episode of Radio 4’s The News Quiz which described Education Secretary Michael Gove as a “foetus in a jar” [cue laughter and wild applause].

You might just think it’s good fun, that politicians deserve everything they get and satire corrects the shortcomings being laughed at. But what if political comedy and satire contribute to and reinforce those shortcomings? What if the message it really spreads is political scepticism?

It is at this point that comedians and writers scoff at the suggestion that anything has changed and without fail remind me of the historical contribution of writers such as Daniel Defoe and Jonathan Swift or caricaturists such as James Gillray and Thomas Rowlandson. All four used their creative and artistic talents to highlight, ridicule and deflate some of the big political notions of their day.

Yet such nostalgic reflections overlook the simple fact that the world has changed and so has political comedy. The rise of the 24/7 media machine with ever more pressure on ratings combined with the rich pickings offered by mass market DVDs has fuelled a satire which is snide, aggressive and personalised. It is also designed to reinforce the general view that politics is failing.

Satirists often say that their trade is necessary to prick the egos of the powerful. They claim they are vital to the functioning of a democratic society; that they can say what commentary and news cannot.

However, a quick journey through recent history shows just how far we have come. In the 1950s the then chairman of the BBC, Lord Simon, blocked the broadcasting of a light comedy about a fictional Labour Minister and nuclear secrets on the basis that “this is not the moment in world history to weaken respect for democracy and the belief in democratic values”. Fast forward through the ground-breaking satire of That Was The Week That Was in the 1960s, through to the slightly sharper Not the Nine O’Clock News and Yes, Minister and onwards to Spitting Image and the weekly politician bashing of Have I Got News For You until finally reaching programmes like The Thick of It and In the Loop with their docu-style and non-stop expletives.

I’m not alone in thinking that political satire and comedy is heading in the wrong direction. Jon Stewart, the British presenter of the Daily Show in America, now arguably the leading satirist in the US, has argued “if satire’s purpose was social change then we are not picking a very effective avenue”.

On this side of the Atlantic, Rory Bremner, Armando Iannucci, Eddie Izzard and David Baddiel have all raised concerns about the increasingly aggressive and destructive nature of modern humour.

I believe in change. I want genuine alternatives. But I want to know what role political comedy and satire might play in producing a new way of organising our society, which brings us to Russell Brand who was recently interviewed by Jeremy Paxman about his guest editorship of the New Statesman.

The way he stuffed Paxman was exquisite, yet there was one moment when he let the mask slip. Right at the beginning when Paxman jabbed him about his right to edit a political magazine, Brand compared himself to Boris Johnson, saying, “He has quite crazy hair, quite a good sense of humour, doesn’t know much about politics.”

The problem is that everyone knows that while Boris may be foolish he is no fool. He is in fact a deceptively polished uber politician who uses buffoonery as a political self-preservation mechanism. Brand has also pushed buffoonery and comedy to new limits, but he has never dared to step into the political arena.

I just wonder if it is a little too easy to heckle from the sidelines, to carp at the weaknesses and failings of others, to suggest that there are simple solutions to complex problems and to enjoy power and influence within society but without ever shouldering direct responsibility.

• Matthew Flinders is director of the Sir Bernard Crick Centre for the Public Understanding of Politics at the University of Sheffield. His Radio 4 programme Joking Apart on the changing nature of satire is due to go out next month.

• We would like to point out that in an earlier edition of this article, Professor Matthew Flinders wrongly attributed jokes made about Education Secretary Michael Gove on Radio 4’s The News Quiz to the show’s host Sandi Toksvig. We are happy to clarify that the remarks were actually made by one of the panellists and we apologise for any offence caused.