With the start of the short campaign drawing near, there could not be a better time to pick up Sam Delaney’s thoughtful, thorough and enjoyable look at the relationship between politics and advertising.

Delaney sets out to answer a simple question: does political advertising actually make a difference? The answer unsurprisingly is not as straight forward, but in trying to provide an answer, the book provides a whistle stop tour of every major election campaign since the mid-50s. From ‘nice manifesto comrade’ and ‘Labour is not working’, through to ‘demon eyes’, ‘wiggy’ and beyond, all the memorable moments are in here.

From a Labour point of view the book is the story of a party that for a long time retained a great suspicion of advertising and modern communications, before the slow grind towards modernisation began under Neil Kinnock and was then completed in the late-90s.

From the Tory perspective, it is a catalogue of their greatest hits, followed by their biggest fail. A party which embraced advertising and ruthlessly, exploited its competitive advantage – winning election after election by following the Saatchi’s mantra of ‘kill or get killed’ and, when New Labour came along, experiencing how it feels to be on the other side of it.

Mad Men’s analysis benefits from a huge range of insider knowledge, with all the key players – at least those who are still living – from both politics and advertising providing a treasure trove of first hand accounts.

From the time a young account executive surreptitiously fed drugs to a Conservative leader of the opposition, to an account of two of the prime minister’s closest advisors nearly coming to blows in the cabinet room over a disagreement about an ad campaign, this is a book brimming with enlivening anecdotes.

Yet, despite this, Mad Men never once slips into frivolity. Amid the humour, it remains a serious examination of the subject and therein lies much of the books charm.

Unfortunately, as fascinating as the book is, Delaney never does quite settle the question of whether advertising does actually make a difference to election results. However, it is hard to argue with the books implicit conclusion that in politics, as in business, if people do not want what you’re selling, then there is precious little that advertising can do to help.

The slightly unsatisfying conclusion aside, this is a book that is more than deserving of your time. Like a good political ad it communicates serious issues in a humorous way and leaves you with plenty to think about long after you stop reading it. An update will no doubt follow after the election but this remains an invaluable companion to the next 55 days.

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Rich Durber is a former speechwriter for a shadow minister and writes a fortnightly column for Progress. He tweets @richdurber

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Mad Men And Bad Men: What happened when British politics met advertising

Sam Delaney

Faber and Faber | 320pp | £14.99