There is a direct correlation between things getting better for the country and worse for the political satirist. The assumption is that now we’ve lost our slew of easy targets, we’ll have nothing to talk about. Edward Tew, a writer for Radio 4’s Dead Ringers, asked in last weekend’s Sunday Times where we’ll go now given Keir Starmer seems to know how many children he has, and Rachel Reeves doesn’t seem the type to be outlasted by a green vegetable.
It is true that we had it good under the Tories: an MP justifying stumbling across tractor porn in the Commons, a Prime Minister asking if a hairdryer up the nose could cure Covid, while his staff filled a suitcase with Co-op wine.
We’ve had 14 years of familiarity – we got to know the main characters, they were safe and we knew how to write for them. The current moment is best captured by Rosie Holt MP (a satirical Tory MP, who many believe to be real) and Jonathan Pie (a satirical news reporter). In a final interview together, they waved farewell to the Tory government, with Pie admitting: “I shall miss you… I’m nothing without you.”
Pie and Holt both came to prominence in a time when the phrase “it’s beyond satire” was being used more and more – there was Trump, Partygate and Barnard Castle. The pandemic provided a huge boom in the creation of, and appetite for, satire on social media that people like me create.
Not only were audiences stuck at home on their phones, they were also quite angry at the government. For so many unfurloughed, unsupported freelancers, the digital marketplace provided a perfect place to remain relevant. We had so much low-hanging fruit to pick.
You might wonder what we’ll do now. But then, last week, we already had Wes Streeting say the word “ship” five times over the course of 30 seconds, in an interminable metaphor about how Starmer had made the party “ship-shape.” If only there were another four-letter word beginning with “shi”…
And the ridiculous things will keep happening – just a bit more outside of Westminster: Jacob Rees-Mogg is filming a five part Dicovery+ reality TV show, following the lives of him, his wife, and their six children at their 17th-century Somerset house. Finally an English answer to the Kardashians. Though, rather than break the internet, Rees-Mogg’s behind might just gently indent a wicker chair.
Liz Truss on the other hand this week ruled out appearing on The Traitors, presumably because it would feel like a bit of a busman’s holiday. Instead she remains a figure on the US conservative speaker scene – assuming audiences there still want to hear about pork markets and that she is able to find her way both in and out of the venues.
In fact, Truss is so determined and relentless in her commitment to being prominently weird that I am genuinely comforted by her keynote speeches to various bizarre offshoots like the Popular Conservatives.
It is true there has been a dearth of satirical programming on mainstream TV. We have lost Mock The Week, The Mash Report, Frankie Boyle’s New World Order, and even the Spitting Image reboot. But the appetite for satire, I’d argue, is stronger than ever.
Jonathan Pie’s farewell to the Conservatives has, at time of writing, been viewed 8.8 million times. Mock The Week at its peak attracted 3 million weekly viewers. This isn’t a perfect comparison – the Pie video is, obviously, much shorter. But it speaks to a wider move. An increasingly risk-averse industry has lead to artists building their own platforms – which have wider reach than many TV shows could hope to achieve.
Satire is a responsive, “non-partisan” medium after all – we’re not going to stop responding just because the colour of the ties have changed.
Nerine Skinner, known for her Liz Truss impressions, has already perfected her Angela Rayner, while Sooz Kempner is my go-to source for hilarious takes on Labour’s limitations. Rosie Holt’s Noncensored podcast regularly features figures from across the political spectrum (well, played by comedians – like Joz Norris as Keir Starmer). Munya Chawawa, meanwhile, is never more than 24 hours away from a joke-dense musical parody about the latest Twitter trend.
Yes, political comedians had an easy ride under the Tories, but like Labour, we can’t be complacent: it’s time to knuckle down and do some work. There is still injustice. Power is still abused. Laurence Fox still has more acting credits than I do. So just give us a second to reload.
Will Sebag-Montefiore is a comedian, writer and satirist