Happy days are here again. The party conference season is over.
Sighs of relief all round.
But the fact that it all goes on too long shouldn’t make us forget that this annual round of jamborees is actually quite remarkable.
Enthusiasts of one brand of politics or another make long journeys from all over Britain to congregate, together with huge numbers of journalists, to capture a small fraction of the nation’s attention for a few days.
In those days, defining statements are made; reputations are won and lost; arguments are rehearsed, tested, strengthened and abandoned; policies are exposed and scrutinised. And then, all of a sudden, the music stops – and everything returns to normal.
The most remarkable thing of all is the difference between what it feels like on the inside and what it feels like on the outside.
From the outside, it’s just a moment when one hears a bit more from a particular party than one normally hears.
From the inside, by contrast, it is an experience of considerable emotional intensity. Quite apart from making speeches (I found myself making 12 of them this year), one is surrounded by continuous discussion between people who are, for one reason or another, fascinated by politics. Every move counts; any remark may suddenly be magnified; nerves of steel are required.
Although something of the same tension is felt by the players in any great sporting event, the gap between the inside and the outside is much greater in the case of a party conference. In most national sports, a significant proportion of the population sees a significant proportion of the action on the TV – whereas, at a party conference it is only a tiny fraction of the action which will ever be seen on the screen.
But even if most of the proceedings fail to engage our fellow citizens, there is at least one exception. The leaders’ speeches at conferences have become an institution.
These speeches provide a chance of communication between the people who are or might be Prime Minister and the voters who elect them. It is a direct communication, without the inevitable oddities of an interview, that lasts for more than a few seconds on the TV. People can actually see, first hand, what they have got or might be getting — and can make a judgement. Perhaps, for that alone, all the paraphernalia is worthwhile.