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(extended version) - October 2007
To mark 50 years of debate on Radio 4's Today programme, RT gave Lord Chancellor Jack Straw the chance to turn the tables on the programme's grand inquisitor John Humphrys.
Jack Straw: Back in 1997, I remember seeing you in the Green Room at Broadcasting House, sounding off about this and that and… you said you were going to retire.
John Humphrys: Jack, that's very cruel of you to remember that. (Laughs) I really did mean it at the time.
JS: So what happened?
JH: The truth is, I find this job almost impossible to retire from. It is the most important job in journalism. No doubt about it. Doing what I do is the most fun you can have with the lights on. I've talked about retiring several times, but every time it comes to the crunch I start to imagine what my life would be like if I wasn't doing what I do. I imagine sitting at home listening to [fellow presenter Edward] Stourton doing an interview and I would want to be there. I would start screaming at the radio. I'd turn into an angry old man. I love this job… love it, love it, love it.
JS: Leaving aside the current four, who's been the Today programme's best presenter?
JH: Brian Redhead, without a shadow of a doubt. The best ever - and I'm including myself there. At his best he had an amazing ability for talking "with" the audience. He was the man who coined the phrase, "If you want to drop a word in the ear of the country, you go on the Today programme". I'm not sure his style would work today, but, at the time, he was brilliant. Well informed, a quick brain - a phenomenally bright man.
I remember a famous exchange he had with Nigel Lawson, who accused him of being a Labour voter. I was sat next to him and I thought, "Oh, s**t". But I could almost hear the cogs whirring. His comeback was perfect. He said, "Right, perhaps we should have a two-minute silence. One for you to apologise for suggesting that you know that I voted Labour. And the second in memory of monetarism, which you've now discarded".
JS: I think the great virtue of the British political system is that it's grounded in the constituency. The constituents give a politician his or her authority to speak. What gives you yours?
JH: That's a good point, and it's something I worry about a lot. We don't have constituents, but I am grounded by my family, by friends, by my children and grandchildren. I go to their schools, I talk to the teachers. But I know what you mean. I suppose, in the end, journalists don't have any "authority". But there is a difference between what I do and what you do. I'm not entitled to express my opinions on the programme, but I am entitled to ask questions. Hugely important questions.
JS: What's the stock answer that politicians give you that really drives you mad?
JH: Hmm… probably when they say "well, that's not really the question that people want answered, is it?" In other words, they're saying to me - and to the audience, as well - that they know better. If I do my job reasonably well, then I'll be in touch with people's concerns and the questions I choose will address those concerns. Now, yes, I admit that sometimes journalists do ask a question that is purely designed to make a politician squirm. I'm guilty as charged. I have to admit, it's great fun to watch you wriggle about.
JS: Let me ask you about the relationship between journalists and politicians. Back in the days when I used to go to Broadcasting House for an interview, the journalist might offer you a cup of coffee - a bit like a condemned man. It wasn't going to stop the public hanging (both laugh), but it made things human. Over the phone or down the line, it's not possible to do that. What do you think of the … Birt apostasy - the idea of the studio being sited as far away as possible from Westminster?
JH: It's been damaging, there's no doubt about that. If you're dealing with issues of immense importance, there's nothing better than actually sitting down at the table. And there's another point, too. This idea of my supposed interruptions. That is less of a problem if you're in the room with someone, because they can see that it's actually an interjection.
Jonathan Aitken once accused me of poisoning the well of democracy, based on the fact that I'd interrupted Ken Clark 32 times in an interview. Actually, I was maligned - there were 36 interruptions. I counted 'em myself. (Both laugh) The next time Ken came in, I gave him a little calculator. He said, "What's that for?" I said, "It's so you can count up my interruptions". Ken - who was Chancellor of the Exchequer at the time - looked at the calculator and said, "I've never been able to work one of these things". (Both laugh)
JS: There's a more serious point I'd like to make about your profession - that journalists go on to infer that there is a single truth about issues…
JH: This is absolutely crucial. There's an old saying - the only law of journalism is simplify and exaggerate. Unfortunately, as a trade, we tend to follow that, for all sorts of reasons, good and bad. Now, this is different if we're doing something like On the Record, where we've got 25 minutes to cover a subject, but on the Today programme we have three minutes. There is never enough time. So I try to boil things down to a simple, straightforward single issue.
Let's take Iraq. You will say, quite rightly, there are 1001 reasons for what happened and it will take years to look at all the factors involved. We can't do that on the Today programme. The Government took the decision to invade Iraq and I want to take single thoughts: was it right, was it wrong, was it legal, was it effective, did it lead to an increase in terrorism?
JS: You have your own views on the invasion of Iraq - you're entitled to them. But one of your fans - I won't say who - said that if you were in charge, you are so bad tempered and so belligerent that we'd be at war with every country on the planet. (Laughs)
JH: (Laughs) Er… er…
JS: You see - hesitation, deviation.
JH: Let me make a serious point. I love argument. My father loved it and I picked it up from him. He was a working class bloke who lost his eyesight as a kid - he got it back later, but it was never properly restored. He was an uneducated man, but he was very clever, and immensely bitter about the establishment. He had a chip on his shoulder a mile high. A tough guy and very bitter about the way life had treated him. But an utterly incorruptible man. An honest, decent man. A good father… a good provider. Not a lovey-dovey father, but we didn't get them in those days.
What I got from him was "you're as good as any man". Just because you haven't been to university - and I didn't go to university - doesn't mean you're not as good as the next guy. That's always stayed with me. Yes, there's a bit of chippiness in my soul, but there's nothing wrong with that. If by "going to war" that fan of mine meant taking the battle to the people in power, yes, I would be at war with everyone. But I'm actually a fairly peaceable man, you know. I detest war. Who doesn't?
JS: What frustrates you about your job, apart from poor answers?
JH: Not much, really. On the Today programme, the main issue is time. I did two interviews with Tony Blair towards the end - both over half an hour - and we barely scratched the surface. The other thing is that I never come away from an interview thinking, "Yes, that was perfect. I really got that".
JS: None of us do. You sometimes come away thinking "that was all right". I remember coming into the studio on the day that it had emerged there were no weapons of mass destruction. It was dreadful. There was no way out. But I had to go through with it.
JH: That was an easy day for me.
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Now check out our gallery celebrating 40 years of Radio 1, 2, 3 and 4.
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