But What Can I Do? - Chatting With Alastair Campbell

Alastair Campbell, once the official spokesman and Director of Communications for Tony Blair’s government from 1994 to 2003, is now far better known as a writer, journalist, broadcaster, strategist and heavyweight political pundit. In addition to co-presenting the UK’s most popular podcast of 2022, The Rest is Politics with ex-Conservative MP, Rory Stewart, Campbell’s continued multi-media engagement with, and comment upon our nation’s politically febrile alarums and excursions, has made him a household name. His passionately held, lucidly articulated opinions continue to shape our turbulent weltanschauung, irrespective of the agreement, or criticism they catalyse.

Campbell’s authorial oeuvre is like the man himself, impressively multi-hued. His first foray into writing saw his debut, The Blair Years become a number one Sunday Times bestseller. Since its publication, he’s published eight volumes of diaries, a book on the Northern Ireland peace process and four novels. Subsequent Sunday Times bestsellers flowed from his disarmingly candid pen in the form of Winners: And How They Succeed, published in 2015 and Living Better: How I learned to Survive Depression, published in 2020.

His latest authorial outing, But What Can I Do? was published recently. Part call to arms, part practical handbook, Campbell presents us with his trenchant analysis of why our nation’s politics has become a septic imbroglio threatening to undermine our democratic values, and democracy itself. For Campbell, contemporary political dialogue has been insidiously corrupted by a divisive culture of ad hominem argument, ignored malfeasance and the shrewd promulgation of falsehoods designed to sustain the influence of elitist dissemblers at the expense of the societal good.

A visceral sense of individual impuissance, rooted in apathy and bathed in disgust, threatens to silence the voices of those who could challenge the status quo and worse still, leave society per se soporifically walking into the maws of those least interested in its common good. Having diagnosed the disease, the second half of his book abandons the conspicuously jarring notes of the minor key for the major, powerfully articulating its author’s solution to our political woes - individual political engagement.

Campbell uses the bulk of his provocative pages to catalyse a burning desire on the part of his reader to participate in our ailing political system, and personally effect socially beneficial change. Having scared the pants off us with innumerable examples of a privileged few wreaking unfettered havoc upon the societies they govern, he proceeds to offer us an equally undeniable body of evidence in support of his main argument - one person can change the world for the better. In essence, Campbell has written a wake-up call and a road map towards a saner, more just world.

In a recent piece for The Guardian, Campbell cited the book that I suspect underpins much of the thinking animating the ideas coursing persuasively through his own:

“The book that has had the biggest impact on me recently is The Revenge of Power, by the former Venezuelan minister Moisés Naím. It crystallised so well a lot of the things that had been keeping me awake at night about the state of our politics, and the state of the world more generally.

In particular it focuses on the three Ps that have done so much damage – populism, polarisation and post-truth. You can only begin to address problems as big as those we face if you are clear in your thinking about what those problems are, and where they come from. Read his book and you see the world more clearly. Then it is up to all of us what we do with that.”

What, I wondered, was the intended purpose of But What Can i Do?

“To try to explain why politics, here and around the world, has become such a mess, and why the answer must be not to turn away from it, but get engaged and change it. First, it is a call to arms to get involved. It is a guide, personal and political, as to how to do that. But it also tries to offer hope, in saying that change can be for better or worse, and if good people decide to get stuck in, the chances are it will be for the better.

I try to show not just that politics matters, but that it can be fun and incredibly rewarding, and I plead with people to resist cynicism. There are three things I hear so often and they are all wrong, but a product of cynicism and apathy. ‘Nothing ever changes’ … ‘They’re all the same’ … and ‘One person can’t make a difference on their own.’ Absolute nonsense.”

cq[...it focuses on the three Ps that have done so much damage – populism, polarisation and post-truth...]

Mutating the genetic DNA of our Parliamentary system is a seminal strand running through Campbell’s book, its imperative force gives Promethean fire to the kindle fuelling the flames of his core argument. I put it to him that ingrained tribal bias, ignorance and internecine conflict, not to mention rank self-interest characterising much of our political landscape, paradoxically serve to make his argument more valid, but less appealing to those he urges to act upon it :

“Politics has to do a better job of projecting itself to the public. I think the old formula of two sides taking lumps out of each other feels very tired, added to which social media has added to the toxicity and polarisation in debate. The so-called mainstream media is also a problem in the way it covers politics. Most of the newspapers are not really newspapers at all, they are political players as well as spectators and their bias and tendency to sensationalism has grown worse under pressure from other forms of media.

It all combines to fuel rather than challenge cynicism and apathy. Yet what I sense going round the country is a real interest in political issues, but something close to disgust at a lot of what politics has become, and the way it is presented to people. I do think that can change, but it needs a lot more than a change of government.

We need big change in the way politics is done. I strongly favour lowering the voting age, compulsory voting, and political education in schools, including primary schools, just on the basics of what politics is and why it matters. Children need to learn how to argue and how to communicate and make decisions. I also think we need greater devolution to the nations and the regions of the UK.”

Campbell is a master communicator. He knows the power words have to change the world. Such is his love of language and the ideas it conveys, he’s even coined his own neologisms. Combining ‘reliance’ with ‘perseverance’ saw him invent a word sitting at the epicentre of his thinking and his book’s can-do optimism - ’Perseviliance’…

“I like playing with and inventing words, and persevilience is the idea that to make change happen is not easy, and it requires both perseverance - keeping going when things are tough - and resilience - the ability to deal with a setback and come back stronger from it. Put the two together and you have a lot of the qualities needed to fight for change. I am glad you like the idea.”

cq[ Most of the newspapers are not really newspapers at all, they are political players as well as spectators and their bias and tendency to sensationalism has grown worse...]

Echoing my point ut supra, Campbell uses the words of others to both express his argument and lend it borrowed weight. More accurately, inspired by the words of others he admires, his book is sprinkled with quotes from political and cultural giants of both the past, and the present. Obama, Thunberg, Zelenskiy, Julia Gillard and François Hollande all find themselves helping to freight Campbell’s activist cargo. I asked him which of the many quotes he draws upon is his favourite :

“The Mandela quote…everything is impossible, until you make it happen. It encapsulates the need for persevilience, and my God he was a role model and a legend on that front.”

As already stated, one of Campbell’s most vehemently held beliefs is that the political leaders of the future, the next generation forming those who will one day govern us, constitute the vital cavalry who must ride to our rescue. Indeed, he says in his book that he hopes a young reader of his words may well be inspired to become our Prime Minister. His book stresses the need to educate young minds, ensuring they have the contextual knowledge to understand how politics works, and how it could be changed for the better. I asked him what might be on such a curriculum, and he responded with his quintessential admixture of candour and warm-hearted directness:

“Oh Lord. That would require an awful lot of careful thought. I’d rather not give a quickfire answer. It would depend on age group. But the key would be to get a good and varied balance of political views and ideas, and above all a sense of the history of our politics seen through a non-partisan lens.”

Returning to the pressing need to bring fresh blood into politics, Campbell’s book conspicuously draws on the thoughts of young activists he admires, whilst weighting much of his text with the intention to inspire younger readers to ‘get involved’. That said, any reader, regardless of the wool on their back, has much to gain from Campbell’s book.

I personally found his insights riveting, his cornucopia of highly pertinent anecdotes both entertaining and didactic, and his sharing of knowledge and understanding profoundly interesting. I put it to him that the book had much to offer a youthful mind, entirely forgetting that it had broadened my own with its penetrating truth :

“I don’t think it is exclusively aimed at the young. It is aimed at anyone who feels angry and frustrated and is looking to channel their anger and frustration to make change. And I agree that there is way too much cynicism, apathy and dumbing down among all generations. But I do feel we need to get the young interested and engaged, and understanding how politics works both so that they can influence it but also change it.”

I’m glad I read Alastair Campbell’s book. Doing so reminded me of the words of Albert Camus, ‘The purpose of a writer is to keep civilization from destroying itself.’ I’m pretty sure he won’t like my reference to Camus. He’s far too self-effacing and grounded to accept the compliment, despite his bellicose on-screen image and strident passion in the face of asinine deceit, or bogus political arguments embarrassingly clad in the intellectual equivalent of the emperor’s clothes. One thing can be taken as read - like him or loathe him, his words deserve an audience.