At 9pm British television viewers finally get to see the first of this year’s pre-election party leaders’ debates. In keeping with the endlessly fractious and convoluted process leading up to this point, it’s neither an event any leader particularly wanted, or even, strictly speaking, a debate.
Yes, David Cameron and Ed Miliband will be interviewed by Jeremy Paxman and take questions from a studio audience, but these things will happen separately and the two will not interact directly with each other.
How did we get here? Why are some leaders – Cameron in particular – so terrified of head-to-head debates? The answer comes in several parts: such events traditionally favour the challenger over the incumbent; past history shows their impact can be significant; and this impact can hinge on relatively tiny, even unintended moments.
The genesis of leaders’ debates can be traced back as far as 1858, when Abraham Lincoln and Stephen Douglas discussed the issues of the day – mainly slavery – over a marathon series of seven public events. This wasn’t even connected to the presidency, which Lincoln didn’t gain until 1860, but to who filled one of the two Senate seats for Illinois.
Aside from the historical significance, the debates had a notable impact on the course of US history – Lincoln lost but published the edited debate texts in a book, helping to gain the national prominence that propelled him to the presidency.
More recently, while the leaders’ debate has gained currency elsewhere – even Mongolia has them, as David Cameron used to point out – by far the most famous examples come from the US. It is their various lessons that keep British spin doctors awake at night.
The US debates
The very first televised presidential debate took place in 1960, pitting Richard Nixon, the then vice-president, against the relatively callow Democrat, John F Kennedy.
The first and most significant of these saw Nixon deemed as the big loser, not so much for what he said as for his grey, sweating, flu-ridden pallor, in contrast to Kennedy’s tanned vitality. Nixon’s campaign never really recovered.
Similarly, ahead of the 1980 election, months of Democrat efforts to portray Ronald Reagan as a frightening ideologue and possible warmonger were undone when viewers were instead faced by Reagan’s folksy homilies and “there you go again” putdown of his slightly rambling opponent, Jimmy Carter.
Twelve years later, the newer format of the “town hall debate”, with candidates fielding questions from an audience, played directly to the talents of charmer-in-chief Bill Clinton.
As George Bush and Ross Perot gave stilted answers to a woman’s question on public debt, Clinton walked to the edge of the stage to engage directly with her. Bush did not help his case by absent-mindedly checking his watch as the woman spoke.
One lesson is that such election-shifting moments can come from the least expected question. In 1988, Michael Dukakis saw the vim drain from his campaign against George Bush for refusing to say that he would hypothetically want to see a criminal who had killed his wife be executed. Dukakis was firmly on the record as opposing the death penalty, but his slightly dry answer saw him characterised as weak.
Britain’s 2010 debates
In the UK, pre-election debates were mooted as long ago as 1964, but it took until 2010 for them to take place, not least because of the perfectly valid objection that they over-emphasise party leaders in what is a parliamentary rather than presidential system.
But in 2010, Gordon Brown, David Cameron and Nick Clegg held 90-minute head-to-head events over three successive Thursdays, drawing TV audiences of up to 10 million.
Why did they finally happen? In this case it was because the incumbent, Brown, felt he had so little to lose. Labour’s poll ratings were low, with the prime minister’s lower still, and the party’s hope was to present Brown as a more human figure than the tribal, obsessive, grumpy leader of popular narrative.
The debates brought a result few expected – fresh-faced Clegg gazing puppy-like at the audience, occasionally into the camera, and extracting a series of “I agree with Nick” responses from his less nimble opponents. While this brought an initial Liberal Democrat poll bounce, the effect it actually had on seat numbers remains moot. But it was a totemic moment for spin doctors already wary of the format.
The 2015 rows
While televised political debates have been a phenomenon for 55 years, it’s a fair bet that in the entire history of the genre there has yet to be a line-up of events as varied and puzzling as those now faced by British voters.
After months of bickering and blaming between political parties and broadcasters, everyone has finally and reluctantly settled to a four-stage blancmange of a debate process, all featuring different rules and selections of party leaders, and two of which aren’t even debates, just politicians answering the same questions while in the same building.
The wrangling began as long ago as late 2012, with the broadcasters already notably more keen than the Conservatives. Cameron then went public in calling for a different format, saying the 2010 debates took all the life out of the campaign. As the discussions stalled for 18 months, Labour began accusing the prime minister of running scared.
The convoluted endgame began last year, when Cameron became curiously worried about broadcasters’ decision to leave out the Greens, eventually prompting a plan for a seven-leader event. Then the prime minister went further, seeking the inclusion of Northern Ireland’s parties.
Labour went on the offensive, accusing Cameron of openly seeking to sink the process. The prime minister, meanwhile, accused the broadcasters of creating chaos. As Cameron faced the possibility of some debates going ahead as planned, but without him, Conservative officials negotiated furiously behind the scenes with the TV companies. The result, possibly sprung on the broadcasters before the details had been finalised, is the current mixed bag of events, welcomed by no one except (privately) the Tories.
Why did Cameron wriggle so? The brief answer is that he, unlike Brown five years ago, has much to lose. His personal ratings are not high, though they are better than Miliband’s. His advisers fear that a head-to-head debate might leave viewers concluding the Labour leader is not the strange, unworldly figure of Tory ridicule, but someone equally as normal, even competent, as their leader.
As to why it took so long to sort out, the UK thus far has no formalised structure for agreeing leaders’ debates. In contrast, since the 1988 elections the US has had the commission on presidential debates, intended to be an impartial arbiter on format and structure. Miliband, meanwhile, has promised a law if he is elected to guarantee future debates.
The final format
Given the schedule – two debates featuring five or seven leaders, and two which are not debates at all – the chances of someone scoring a knockout blow seem relatively slim. But mistakes could be made, and it will be interesting to see if Cameron faces tough questions, especially from studio audiences, about why he has ducked direct contact with Miliband.
This is what is on offer, in chronological order:
• On 26 March Cameron and Miliband will be interviewed separately by Jeremy Paxman and then take questions from a studio audience, broadcast on Channel 4 and Sky News. They will not interact directly.
• On 2 April is the only all-round debate of the campaign. As well as Cameron and Miliband, it will feature Clegg, Nigel Farage (Ukip), Nicola Sturgeon (Scottish National party), Natalie Bennett (Greens) and Leanne Wood (Plaid Cymru). Broadcast on ITV, the leaders will answer questions from a studio audience and debate amongst themselves, moderated by presenter Julie Etchingham. The convoluted seven-leader format means the opportunities for leaders to shine (or mess up) will be limited, but the event does last two hours.
• On 16 April comes another ITV debate, unofficially known as “night of the challengers”, in which Miliband will face off against Farage, Bennett, Sturgeon and Wood. It has been claimed the Conservatives pressured Clegg to miss this, so Cameron would not be the only absent leader. It leaves Miliband in a slightly tricky position, facing attack from the leaders of four smaller parties, all of which hope to take votes from Labour.
• On 30 April, a week before polling day, is the final event, a special edition of Question Time on BBC1 featuring Cameron, Miliband and Clegg answering questions from a studio audience, but again not interacting directly.
