His comedy is about comedy – deconstructing his own material, his audience’s reactions to it, his comedic devices (the callback, observation, repetition) and the superstar comics who fill the O2 and appear on Mock The Week. He is the Morrissey of comedy: uncompromising, prepared to alienate his audience, resistant to comedy fad, and dismissive of the mainstream comedy circuit and its multimillionaire inhabitants. Russell Howard was singled out for particular opprobrium. You had to be there.

In a riff about alternative comedy in the 1980s, he pointed out how hated Thatcher was. The miners hated her. Teachers hated her. The media hated her. Comedians hated her. The only way to explain how she won three elections was the superior number of votes she received compared to the other parties.

And therein lies an important truth for the modern Labour party. Say ‘Thatcher’ to most Labour party members, especially those over 40, and you can expect a reaction ranging from a cold shudder to an outbreak of swearing. Like John O’ Farrell, who distils his Things Can Only Get Better into the single premise that Thatcher was in power for the 1980s, and he didn’t like her much, most of us don’t like Thatcher. Unfortunately, we’re in a small minority. Mention ‘Thatcher’ to normal people, and you get a very different reaction – ranging from ambivalence to admiration. Many people over 40 associate her with boom times and their own salad days. Young people see her as a historic figure, like Florence Nightingale or Elizabeth I. Tories lionise her.

That’s one reason why Ed Miliband’s PMQs on Wednesday missed the target. To compare Cameron to Thatcher actually flatters him. The Tories loved it. And it opened Miliband open to a much worse accusation – that he is ‘son of Brown’. The Tories roared; Labour fell silent. The lobby wrote their predictable stories about Miliband’s trouncing.

Another event I attended this week was an astonishing seminar to coincide with the publication of Brown at 10, a new history of GB in Downing St by Anthony Seldon and Guy Lodge. Seldon and Lodge’s thesis, backed by voluminous interviews with the protagonists, is that Gordon Brown will be judged kindly by history for making the right calls on the banking crisis, but that his premiership was marred by an absence of ideas and mental illness. Indeed, Seldon made much of the former PM’s poor mental health, which he characterised as ‘complex’, ‘depressive’ and ‘obsessive’. He was fair-minded enough to concede that he didn’t believe Brown was ‘clinically depressed’, or taking antidepressants.

Different versions of these charges are already well known, and have been made in several recent books, from Jonathan Powell’s to Steve Richards’s. What was fascinating was that none of the audience, including the five or so ex-GB staffers I counted in the room, demurred. It’s not long to wait now until the former prime minister’s own memoir appears to set the record straight.

The lesson for Ed Miliband is simple: associations with former prime ministers will not do him any favours in the minds of many voters. Best think about his own tomorrows, not other people’s yesterdays.

 

Photo: BBC Radio 4