Silly season
Ah, August, the cruellest month by far for newspapers, but usually quite a good one for publicists. Circulations plummet as readers and journalists alike flit from villa to beach, and those left behind tune to Channel 4 for the cricket while they pray for something momentous to happen on the quiet watch. This year, however, seems slightly different. There’s a serious streak in the air as Parliament (naturally ‘Closed for the Season’) smells its own impotence in the face of “emergency” measures taken to combat traitors. Non-silly Human Rights protestors, who would normally be waving placards in protest, are nowhere to be seen, kept off the streets by holidays and legislation and giving the Government a free hand. The death of Robin Cook, one of the Greats of the Labour party over the past 25 years, was a nasty shock too, and not at all silly, although I query the dignity of running a clip of his Spitting Image garden gnome manifestation on the actual evening of his death, as one news channel did. Even the splendid performance of the British submarine rescuers at the other end of Russia is hard to knock, and terrific PR for the qualities of technological brilliance we used to celebrate on Tomorrow’s World and now lampoon on Look Around You. I didn’t care for the naval officer blubbing on the Today programme this morning, though. Upper lips should generally be kept stiffer than that in our armed forces. The Russian sailors who nearly died seemed extremely sanguine about the whole thing, by contrast, as if it was “all in a day’s work”. That’s the spirit, comrades.
Publicists have a focused attitude to August, and it’s generally excellent for business, with outdoor events and all manner of festivals giving opportunities to get into the media with an ease lacking for the rest of the year. As about a billion journalists descend on Edinburgh, for instance, and swamp the better hotels and restaurants with their expense accounts and new friends, the publicity machines are hard at work, whether predicting the Perrier nominees, the ‘surprise’ hit of the year, or covering up the dire embarrassment of a total lack of ticket sales. The Assembly Rooms are as busy as a beehive, containing a similar potential for stinging reviews. Perhaps journalists are easier to manipulate when the sun’s out and the lager’s flowing. Or perhaps we all go into holiday mode whether we’re on holiday or not, so it becomes less of an issue whether the truth of any story as quite as true as it should be. But hey, relax. The sun’s out, Prescott’s in charge, the shuttle’s just landed safely, that radical cleric may well find his holiday in Lebanon extends longer than her expected, and there’s another test starting on Thursday, and we’re going to win that one too. Crisp, anyone?