In defence of vox-pop journalism
I remember the first time I was sent out as a reporter on work experience to ask members of the public what they thought about something in the news. It was the summer of 2011 and I was spending a couple of weeks at my local paper, the Ealing and Acton Gazette, with a team of veteran reporters (they were probably 28, tops) who seemed impossibly intrepid and glamorous (we once had lunchtime shandies at an O’Neill’s).
My assignment was to head to the high street and ask residents about the government suggesting they change their commuting habits to lessen congestion around the London Olympics. I also had to ask how old they were, what they did for work, where they lived – and take a photo. I can still remember my palms clamming up, my mouth drying up and my face turning red.
I needn’t have been so terrified. That afternoon I learned that people, on the whole, are happy to talk, to be listened to, and to give their view. Even if their interlocutor – with a conspicuously empty notebook and wonky camera grip – has clearly never conducted an interview in her life.
Ever since, I’ve always tried to incorporate the public into my reporting – whether that’s nabbing time with constituents while out interviewing a politician or on the campaign trail, asking residents what they make of their housing estates and high streets, or quizzing shoppers at the supermarket as they contemplate rising food prices.
I’d find journalism a lot duller, and somehow less real, if I didn’t do this. But it seems the academics of Cardiff University’s prestigious journalism school are less convinced. In their new post-mortem of Senedd-election media coverage, they take particular aim at the “vox pop” (short for vox populi, meaning “voice of the people”) – the practice favoured by broadcasters of stopping people in the street to ask for their views on whatever the story.
Although the report’s authors acknowledge that this interview style captures the public mood, they find they offer “limited depth”, are a “relatively blunt tool” and fail to “explore the deeper reasons behind voters’ views”. They also sorrowfully note that “they took up valuable airtime at the expense of policy coverage, scrutiny of political claims and explanation of the workings of the Welsh political system”. As over a quarter of television news items about the Welsh election involved vox pops, “the public featured far more than the perspectives of political candidates”.
The authors of the study also somehow find it notable that the people vox popped were overwhelmingly likely to mention health and care as an issue in their lives, while “not one voter” expressed concerns about “devolution and [Welsh] independence”.
Vox pop scepticism isn’t a niche view. There has long been a wry consensus among political academics and certain columnists that there is little value in heading to a high street in the middle of the day to ask whoever’s milling around to opine on the latest political development. The argument that pensioners and market stallholders and day drinkers – the individuals most likely to be around, and somewhat stationary – dominate vox pop segments at the expense of nine-to-fivers may have merit. But it is often steeped in snobbery and ignores the fact that full-time parents and retail workers on their shift breaks are just as likely to be around, too.
Some audiences look down on the practice as well: just look at the “where do you find these people?” tone among callers and commentators on radio shows and podcasts that feature vox pops and focus groups. Mark Easton, the BBC’s former home affairs editor, once listed the criticisms he would get for these segments: “a parade of ignorance and prejudice”; “can’t you find any proper news?”; “lazy journalism”.
To me, the point of the vox pop is neither to present a blandly representative perspective nor some deep Hegelian exchange. Most people don’t dwell on the political landscape outside of an immediate election campaign; their views are necessarily a snapshot because that’s how politics is consumed. They also don’t equivocate using the annoying tics of the chronically media-trained. This can be a joy to watch, as with the queen of the modern vox pop, Brenda from Bristol, whose reaction to yet another election being called in 2017 is still quoted today: “You’re joking – not another one?!”
And most people don’t fit into a neat category beloved of pollsters or archetype-mongering strategists behind Mondeo Man and Worcester Woman. I’ve met Lib Dem-minded Leavers, and voters trying to choose between Reform and the Greens. I’ve spoken to a Restore-curious woman who was put off by Nigel Farage because of what she deemed his un-feminist views. I’ve heard ex-steelworkers praise Margaret Thatcher over pints, and Jeremy Corbyn voters complain about immigration levels.
Even if not everyone fits the perfect broadcast package or most coherent news report, this is a great (and fun) exercise in exploding Westminster Brain. Perhaps, counter to the Cardiff University report, journalists should have been doing more of this kind of thing, not less. It may have helped the media class, and their audiences, understand more of what lies behind the trend that seems to be the biggest shock to the British political system since Brexit – of voters “shopping around” for different parties more than they ever have before.
[Further reading: Alarm clock Britain: a tale of two deprivations]
