We’ve all apparently heard it. It echoes down every street. We hear it from people the moment we knock on their front doors. It’s not “who are you?” or “what do you want?” The first thing out of their mouths is how bored they are of Strictly Come Dancing.
No, no. Don’t deny it. They “want us to get on with it”. They want us to decide so the BBC can get back to “the important business” of wildlife documentaries about the lemur or yet another adaptation of a marginal smudge in Jane Austen’s bankbook that might or might not be the kernel of an idea.
Let’s face it, we’ve been “banging on” about Strictly Come Dancing since 2004 and it’s “about time we settled this once and for all”. When people voted for Natasha Kaplinsky and Brendan Cole fifteen years ago, little did we imagine we’d be asking them to choose again between Michelle Visage (who?), Chris Ramsey (eh?) and Kelvin Fletcher (no idea!) in 2019.
The problem of identifying the UK’s best celebrity hoofer has already seen off one prime time host yet people thought that there’d never get a Saturday night deal as good as Brucie’s. Now we’ve got Tess and Claudia and though their deal is obviously a lot worse, we need to get behind it. We also need to stop the interference of that self-important pipsqueak, Bruno Tonioli, because, when you get down to it, isn’t that the problem when judges get involved? It’s all about the will of the people, people!
At which point my knowledge of light entertainment runs dry but perhaps it’s as well…
The problem of our age sadly isn’t Strictly Come Dancing. It’s Brexit and it isn’t going to be resolved by treating it as though it is a TV series that’s got a bit long in the tooth. You might remember how it was only quite recently when the debate was about reconnecting ordinary people with the political process. Psephologists would seriously compare the popularity of Strictly’s phone polls with the low turnouts for general elections. There was even talk of voters using the BBC’s Big Red Button because we apparently find politics boring. Yet, here we are. Politics has become light entertainment and the BBC’s Parliament channel was recently (albeit briefly) more popular than MTV. People are turning on in order to argue parliamentary procedure. At the time of writing, Amazon has only 8 copies of Erskine May left (with more on the way).
Is that healthy or bad for democracy?
There is an argument that politics might have been better had it remained boring. It is, after all, the natural way of the world. There are lots of things we tire of hearing about: Love Island, Ant or Dec’s shame, the private lives of the royals, Greta’s attempt to kayak to Australia, then next tree surgeon that glues his face to Admiral Nelson’s buttock… And like all immensely boring things, they eventually diminish. People eventually remember that there are far more interesting things they can be doing with their time.
Whatever way the votes this week fall, Brexit and the European question are hardly going to go the way of that red button, which we’ve just learned the BBC plan to turn off in 2020. If we Brexit, we face years of trade negotiations, hard Brexiteers lamenting all compromises, Remainers relitigating 2016. The UK’s relationship with Europe is going to be at the centre of political debate for decades or for as long as plate tectonics moor this island 22 miles off the coast of a large and influential continent.
You might say it was ever thus but history teaches us that moments of equilibrium are really quite rare. The “Long Peace” wouldn’t be described as “long” if it weren’t exceptional. For decades, Europe obsessed a faction in the Conservative Party, was then turned into a marginal cause by the (grits teeth) genius of Nigel Farage, then dragged into the middle of the road by David Cameron where it now sits like a pile of burning tyres, aflame for perpetuity. Picking a side brings people onto the streets in their (according to German TV) multiple millions. Elsewhere, we’re told, a silent seniority stew in their anger. Irrespective of either count, that isn’t anger/enthusiasm negated with a few catchphrases. Whoever “wins” the Brexit argument, the losers are going to demand another say and find reasons to spend their weekends matching down Whitehall.
As we ride our Google guided beach buggies to the polling stations in 2050, drinking fresh coconut smoothies as the blue tropical sea washes up Lewisham High Street recently flattened by Hurricane Claude, do we really think there won’t be one party (if not all) trying to position themselves as the real party for or against our continued place in/exclusion from the European Union?
Bored of Brexit? Not at all. For the moment we’re only bored of people telling us that we’re bored of Brexit. We should save the real boredom for the rest of our lives.