Why Politicians’ Voices Matter More Than You Think

Ed Miliband and Natalie Bennett will go down as two of the most ineffective party leaders in British political history.

Their confused policies and lack of convictions hamstrung interviews and made them easy prey for satirists. There’s one glaring attribute, however, that hasn’t been analysed closely enough. Apart from a lack of conviction, Miliband and Bennett failed to connect with people because their voices were, to put it diplomatically, aural poison.

They lack the vocal grace of progressive leaders like Tony Benn, whose popularity stemmed from delivering strong messages in a receptive way. Arguably, our fallen zeroes were doomed from the start because their tone, lack of conviction and, primarily, poor delivery put voters off their message.

To appeal to everyone you possibly can, there must be a perfect marriage of convictions and oratorical skills. Though Miliband and Bennett paraded shadows of promising ideas, their failure suggests delivery matters more than content. You might have the best ideas in the world, but if you do not articulate them in an appealing way, you might as well bellow into a dead octopus. Strong oratory matters for politicians espousing progressive ideas, which are often ambitious in scope and require effort to implement. If they are not said equably, your audience will flee to the warrens of their imaginations.

When he was Labour leader, Miliband’s main obstacle to winning wasn’t David Cameron, but his own pious bleating. At Prime Minister’s Questions, his worthy criticisms of the Coalition’s venal policies were always diluted by his less than forceful voice, packaged in a perpetual whinge. His perceived ineptitude was reinforced by associations with images bereft of the power required to be prime minister.

At his most ‘authoritative’, Miliband could only summon the most indignant of whines. Despite having an accent synonymous with respected professionals, he sounded like he waded through a vat of snot to reach every point, alienating him from voters. Is this analysis shallow? Undeniably yes, but we judge politicians on their ability to communicate before everything else and it would be disingenuous to deny it. The fact that Miliband had surgery on his adenoids early in his leadership suggests he and his team recognised that.

Having a mellifluous voice can enhance your appeal, irrespective of your hideous ideology. Boris Johnson’s florid voice invokes rustic libraries brimming with Latin plays. His lust for power is coated with a sugary lacquer that endears him to people whose living standards would be disembowelled by his beliefs.

On May 15 2016, the world somehow continued spinning as Natalie Bennett resigned as Green Party leader. Many in her own party were happy to see her go, mainly because she failed to hoover up traditional Labour sympathisers at the 2015 general election. Members even claimed new recruits joined in spite of her. Bennett’s aims should’ve garnered more working-class support in theory, but the party suffered from her feeble croak, which inspired unmitigated dread in both Green agnostics and believers. Our undemocratic voting system certainly hampered the Greens’ assault on parliament, but Bennett’s voice did not convince people she could handle the intensity of top level politics. She often sounded like a lamb on an abattoir’s killing floor, frail rather than ferocious. It could not project the powerful ambition of combatting climate change on a global scale alongside other nations, or taking the Royal Mail back into state ownership. Voters could not take her seriously. Allies tried to spin her unvarnished style as ‘refreshing’ in an era of ruthlessly trained automatons, but they couldn’t save Bennett.

Have we been brainwashed by the likes of Tony Blair and George Osborne, whose gleaming voices represent our new era of media-orientated politics? I doubt it. Their pristine tones convey their spiritually impoverished ideas better than if they had Miliband’s or Bennett’s, but their voices are central to their ability to earn the confidence of commentators. Jeremy Corbyn arguably suffers from a dour voice which does not project the moral authority of his policies as much as Michael Foot’s. The images and sounds we associate with each politician varies from person to person, but Miliband’s and Bennett’s failure suggests progressive parties need leaders not just with convictions, but assured voices capable of eliciting reassuring images.