On Good Morning Britain, Kemi Badenoch discovered that live television is less forgiving than Conservative HQ
There’s a moment in Annie Hall when Woody Allen arguing with an obnoxious professor about a film reaches off screen and brings in the director of the movie in question to agree with him. “If life were only like this,” Allen observes sadly to the camera. On Monday, Kemi Badenoch found that just occasionally, it is. But would she be vindicated or humiliated? See if you can guess!
She was on ITV’s Good Morning Britain to talk about the Conservative Party’s brilliant plan to fix the terrible student loans scheme brought in by — hang on a second, let me check this — the Conservative Party. As ever with Badenoch, this policy announcement is the result of months of careful analysis, and not in any sense because it’s a hot topic on Twitter at the moment. Happily, her plan will be better for everyone and cost nothing! Have you guessed how this is going to go yet?
The Tory leader was in a combative mood from the outset. It is possible that she hears “GMB” and thinks, like political correspondents of an older generation, of the trade union, rather than the sofa-based discussion show. Whatever the reason, she was grumpy to be asked about the former Prince Andrew, and his place in the line of succession. This, she explained, was a sideshow.
“It distracts from the real issue,” she said, before continuing in a mocking, sing-song tone,“oh look over here, let’s talk about Prince Andrew!”
Susanna Reid, leading this part of the questioning, regarded her with fascination, tinged with slight horror. “I don’t think you want to be accused to minimising what Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor is accused of…” she said, in a tone that suggested she thought this was very much what it had sounded like.
Is there, inside Badenoch’s head, a little Badenoch who waves a red flag when an interview is going in the wrong direction? If there is, it was too busy playing Candy Crush to notice what was happening.
“Let’s be honest,” Badenoch went on, warming to her point about how trivial the whole Prince Andrew-Jeffrey Epstein thing really was. “He’s eighth in line. There’s seven people, including some very little children…” she trailed off. Had the little Badenoch woken up and screamed out that the next logical point in this sentence was speculation on the deaths of the king’s grandchildren?
Reid intervened again: “I think it’s interesting that you’re describing it as a distraction. We’ve just spoken to a sexual assault survivor who said this is a victory.”
The internal Badenoch had now applied the emergency brake. “Let’s make sure that the police have the space to do their job,” she said. It would be entirely wrong for her to engage in a public discussion of the criminal investigation into Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor. Instead, she wanted to talk about the criminal investigation into Peter Mandelson.
Sighing with relief, Inner Badenoch put its feet back up on the desk, and Outer Badenoch immediately turned back to the point she wanted to make. “‘Should he be removed from the line of succession?’” she said, the sing-song voice returning. “It’s celebrity gossip.”
Reid stared at her. “I don’t think that people are enjoying this,” she said, in the baffled voice that many interviewers adopt after a few minutes with the Conservative leader.
Fortunately for Inner Badenoch, the interview finally moved on, to the subject she’d come on to discuss, her cost-free, everyone’s-a-winner, brilliant plan to solve the student loans crisis. Unfortunately, the questioning at this point was taken over by Ed Balls, who as well as being a nimble dancer has quite a good grasp of figures.
“The cut in the interest rate that you’re proposing will only benefit the richest students,” he began.
“I don’t think that’s right,” Badenoch replied.
“It’s definitely right,” Balls said, looking at her like an Oxford tutor who can’t believe the quality of the undergraduates he’s being sent these days. “The only people who will benefit will be the people who pay off all their debt, which is the richest 25 per cent of students.”
Was there, in the Badenoch control room, a sense that this wasn’t going to plan? “It’s the ones in the middle we’re trying to help,” she said. This had all made sense in Conservative Headquarters, when they’d been drawing the policy up on the back of a cigarette packet.
“But they won’t benefit anyway,” Balls replied, apparently astonished that she hadn’t yet grasped this. “How would they benefit from a cut in interest rates?”
“This is about fairness,” Badenoch went on.
“How would they benefit?”
If you slow the tape down at this point, you can actually see a look of panic flash past Tory leader’s eyes. “The lowest-earning students I think are a separate problem,” she said, trying to change the subject. She glanced at Reid, perhaps hoping the other presenter might have more questions about the royal family.
She didn’t, but she did want to bring in a new guest. “Noises off!” she shouted. “Martin Lewis has come into the studio!”
And here it was, the Woody Allen moment. Martin Lewis, the Money Saving Expert, Britain’s most-loved guru of cutting your bills, had been due to speak next, but was unable to contain himself, and had invaded the field of play. Whose side would he be on? “If you want to help the middle-earning students,” he said, standing at the edge of the set, “the repayment threshold is the important thing.”
A lesser person would have dived behind the sofa at this point. Some viewers may have donethis in sympathy. Not Badenoch. She held up her hand. “I’m the first person who’s even trying to solve this problem.” What was Jeremy Corbyn? Chopped vegan pâté?
Lewis was unimpressed with her plan: “It won’t actually help!”
There was more to come. It was a monstering. The Inner Badenoch had given up. “I don’t think it is fair on young people,” the Tory leader was reduced to saying, sadly. “We can have an argument about the details.” Details, older readers will remember, were supposed to be Badenoch’s thing.
It must have been a relief when Lewis left, the Tory student loan plan in tatters behind him. For light relief, the presenters asked Badenoch what she thought of the incident at the previous evening’s BAFTAs, when someone with Tourette’s shouted the n-word at two black presenters.
Badenoch was conciliatory. “Once in a while these things happen,” she said. “Every single black person has heard this word before.”
