On handling the gentlemen of the press

On handling the gentlemen of the press

It is hardly a secret that the Thai prime minister is not exactly enamoured with the media. The press can admittedly at times be a pain in the posterior for those in power. It cannot be much fun having microphones shoved in your face after breakfast every morning by a scrum of journalists asking awkward questions about watches, submarines and elections.

So when the premier produced a life-sized cardboard cutout of himself this week and instructed the assembled journos to "ask this guy", it made a lot of sense. The cutout is definitely less grumpy than the real thing and even prompted some nervous laughter. It also appeared to be comfortable posing for countless selfies with the assembled newshounds without a hint of irritation. But it still remained tight-lipped.

He is not the first Thai premier to have issues with the press. When the gentleman currently in Dubai ran the show, he became so irritated at news conferences on occasions, he held up a sign with an 'X' if he didn't like the question.

The Thai premier who probably had the most effective way of handling the press was Pa Prem. When asked tricky questions he didn't say anything, but simply smiled as if he knew something that we all didn't -- which was most likely the case. This may explain why Pa Prem was the longest-serving and arguably most successful PM in the past five decades.

Beware those smiles

Around the globe, politicians regularly clash with newsmen. The current occupant of the White House has had plenty to say on this matter and might actually fancy the Thai cardboard cutout approach. Perhaps Theresa May could try it in the House of Commons at Question Time. That would be fun.

Former New York mayor Ed Koch famously commented: "Never trust a smiling reporter." Someone who would have agreed was former British Labour Party politician Tony Benn, who after a run-in with the media blurted out: "if I was to rescue a child from drowning, the press would no doubt headline the story 'Benn Grabs Child'."

In a similar vein, former US president Lyndon Johnson remarked: "If one morning I walked on top of the water across the Potomac River, the headlines would read, 'President Can't Swim'."

Of a more extreme nature was US General William Sherman's view: "If I had my way, I would kill ever reporter in the world, but I'm sure we would be getting reports from hell before breakfast."

What's the problem?

So how should a Thai premier respond to the media when he doesn't want to talk? One former premier would simply say "mai mee panha" (no problem) and the problem would invariably go away. It became such a familiar catchphrase it became known as the "No Problem Government".

Unfortunately not everyone agreed with this assessment and eventually he was informed by the men in uniform there actually was a problem and he had to go.

The "no problem" policy was undoubtedly quite effective and it might be worth consideration by the present authorities. The policy was based on the old dictum that goes roughly: "There is not any problem, however complicated, which when looked at closely does not become even more complicated."

Following this line of thinking, it clearly makes sense not to have a problem in the first place, because it can only create more problems. This is what you call Thai logic. It works, too.

Playing with words

There are a few other useful expressions the premier can resort to when put on the spot. It is very handy to say convincingly ''the signs are very encouraging" when things are definitely bleak. In a similar positive approach, we have "there are grounds for optimism'', meaning it will require a miracle to save the situation.

Another effective phrase is "I've been quoted out of context", meaning "I wish I had never said that", while "I was speaking off the record" means "I definitely wish I'd never said that".

And just about every leader in the world will at some time come up with "the situation is fluid". Well, it sounds a lot better than "I haven't a clue what's going on".

Time for a cuppa

Being a reporter is certainly not as exciting as it tends to be portrayed in the movies. There's an awful lot of hanging around, waiting for interviews that might never happen or for bigwigs who arrive hours late.

A former colleague experienced this while interviewing a politician in England. He had been kept waiting for ages and was suffering from fatigue before the interview had even started.

It didn't help either that the politician was extremely boring and droned on, eventually sending the journalist into a state of slumber.

The newshound suddenly awoke with the politician staring at him after apparently saying something meaningful. As he had no idea what the fellow had said, he hastily replied: "Err … would you like to rephrase that?"

The politician glared at him and replied: "Certainly not. I only asked if you wanted another cup of tea."

Written off

It was author American Norman Mailer who once wrote: "If a person is not talented enough to be a novelist, not smart enough to be a lawyer, and his hands are too shaky to perform operations, he becomes a journalist."

Not very nice is it? But he may have a point.


Contact Postscript via email at oldcrutch@gmail.com

Roger Crutchley

Bangkok Post columnist

A long time popular Bangkok Post columnist. In 1994 he won the Ayumongkol Literary Award. For many years he was Sports Editor at the Bangkok Post.

Email : oldcrutch@gmail.com

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