Ugh. On most days, I quite like the Guardian, but what an embarrassing wet noodle of an interview with former U.K. Home Secretary David Blunkett, the man who had to resign from Tony Blair's cabinet back in December. Mr. Blunkett was accused of pulling strings on behalf of a former lover who wanted her nanny's visa application expedited. While that was the official reason for his departure, it was obvious that two paternity scandals had made his position particularly untenable.
I frankly didn't much care about the paternity thing (none of my business) or the pulling-strings allegation (a small transgression in the scheme of things). I was pleased to see Mr. Blunkett exit, though, because of the liberty-wrecking policies he stands for. He enthusiastically embraced a national ID card, waxed lyrical about the coming anti-blasphemy law, and pushed a terror bill that will expand both secret wiretaps and the powers of poorly trained amateur cops known as Police Community Support Officers.
For good measure, Mr. Blunkett is also a big fan of Anti-Social Behavior Orders (ASBOs). What are ASBOs? The Economist, not usually given to rebellious invective, had a chilling cover story about them last month.
"What's a government to do when faced with a bunch of undesirables whose guilt is difficult to prove in a court of justice? Lock them up without a proper trial, of course. ... Troublemakers as young as ten years old can be barred from entering neighbourhoods, ringing doorbells, using public transport and mobile phones or even uttering certain words for a minimum of two years. Securing an ASBO is easy. Hearsay evidence, for instance, is admissible in court. The consequences of stepping out of line are weighty: a maximum of five years in prison for doing something that is not necessarily an offence in law."
Long story short, there are lots of interesting things to talk about with Mr. Blunkett when he agrees to an interview just months after his forced departure. Or there would be, at least, for a serious journalist. That rules out the Guardian's Jackie Ashley, then, who comes as close as is humanly possible to actually fellating the disgraced pol in print. Ms. Ashley seems curiously incapable of asking one single critical question, instead preferring to lull her readers to sleep with a steaming heap of Oprah-esque blather. Mr. Blunkett, she writes, "looks better" than he has in a long time (she then repeats it for emphasis); he's "lost weight"; he's "learned to laugh again," and, happily, "there are signs of the old Blunkett sense of humor returning." For those who are too slow to have gotten the message by now, she summarizes that it's good to see "the old David Blunkett back again."
Clearly, Ms. Ashley is better at suppressing her gag reflex than I am. Could any highly-paid PR shill have done a better job of sugarcoating Mr. Blunkett's plentiful political and personal shortcomings? Still, no surprises: her previous articles about the ex-Home Secretary are headlined with such statements as Blunkett is Right to Target Young Louts and I've Met Corrupt Politicians — Blunkett Isn't One of Them.
In fairness, it's not just Ms. Ashley who is derelict in her basic journalistic duties. The Guardian as a whole has apparently abandoned any semblance of critical thinking when it comes to its coverage of the former Home Secretary. Just a week after Mr. Blunkett's resignation, the newspaper seemed to begin laying the groundwork for his triumphant return with an article entitled: "From Quitting to Comeback: Ministers Who Showed That Resignation Need Not Be For Ever." On February 14, readers were treated to Blunket Back in the Fray. On March 9, it was Blunkett Back with 'Honesty' Message. Today, the headline reads Blunkett is Back: Healthier, Happier, Wiser — and Still Ready For a Fight. Next week, it'll be Blunkett is Back (No Really): Why We'd Like to Gently Wash His Feet and Give Him a Nice Pedicure.
Do you get the feeling the Guardian is trying to tell us something?
At one point during the interview, Ms. Ashley lobs a softball about British journalists ("even experienced politicians with an array of powerful editors as friends cannot ward off the press when it's in full pursuit"). Mr. Blunkett eagerly knocks that one out of the park, of course, complaining of a pack of evil-doers who have "harassed" and "stalked" him and who are in dire need of more "self-restraint." I don't doubt that some tabloid reporters have been overly aggressive in their coverage. Regrettably, the Guardian has done the opposite by fecklessly passing up chance after chance to ask poignant questions and hold a prominent politician accountable for his words and deeds.
Odd. Weren't journalists supposed to be watchdogs instead of lapdogs?
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