Neil Simpson wipes the lipstick from Sarah Palin, and explores style over substance in politics, both at home and abroad.

Menzies Campbell, at a recent promotion of his autobiography, recalled his days as a runner for the British Olympic team in 1964. As he reminisced, it was evident that it was a simpler time for budding athletes: no special diets, no multi-million pound training equipment, and very little sponsorship. Yet there was no hint of bitterness from the former Liberal Democrat leader when Chris Hoy and his commercial success was brought up. As Hoy’s website shows, modern sporting success equals big sponsorship. BT, B&Q, Adidas, Shimano, Miller, SIS, QTS, Dolan: all have invested in the potential of the Scots cyclist.

However, when it comes to politicians, Mr Campbell took a very different view of glamour, glitz and advertising. This is understandable from a politician who was mercilessly harangued about his age, regardless of his message.

Despite the fall of Aliaster Campbell and the Blair era, the importance of image remains embedded in politics, and frequently overshadows substance. Photo opportunities, magazine interviews and ‘re-branding’ exercises dominate now more than ever. A recent ‘analysis’ in The Times of David Cameron’s speech spent a whole page dissecting Samantha Cameron’s dress. Lisa Armstrong – a fashion editor – noted that “in these turbulent times, a decorative wife is every bit as important as a strong economic policy.”

Read that again. Turbulent times require a “decorative” wife. This is worrying. Yet political spin and showboating remain not only necessary, but desirable if modern democracy is to work.

This theory is alive and well in university politics. ‘Life is Better Under a Conservative’ proclaimed the University’s Tory stronghold. A fairly inoffensive statement, you would think. But buff it up with a pouting ‘yah’ girl and the ‘phwwor’ factor kicks in. The message has succeeded in provoking a reaction. Outside student politics, in the relevant world, the same premise applies. If your message is boring – or you don’t have one – it is easily glossed over with the 21st century equivalent of bread and circuses.

George Osborne, the hamster-cheeked shadow chancellor, is acutely aware of this. The time of the easy-going, floppy-haired Tory boy has gone. The age of the dour-faced Calvinist prophet of economic despair is upon us. In his sermon, Osborne, scowling at his congregation, derided the current ‘Age of Irresponsibility’. He didn’t quite say we’re doomed, but he might as well have.

Yet the unpleasant truth is that without spin, stage management and ‘massaging images’, democracy would shudder to a halt. Economic figures, party manifestos and speeches would all become irrelevant without it. It’s the reason we vote for politicians rather than civil servants, who invariably seem to run government departments anyway. Alan Clarke once noted the effect of civil servants: “The unfortunate Minister blunders about like a bull on sawdust with the picadors galloping round him sticking in their horrid barbed banderillas.”

Even Gordon Brown, the epitome of all substance, no style, has shown a basic understanding of the value of image. His wife, appearing on stage next to him, has highlighted that he is, in fact, a human being like the rest of us. He smiled – even joked – and exuded charm.

Let’s take the idea a stage further. Sarah Palin, the gun-toting, ‘hockey mom’ with clear ‘specs’ appeal, is the embodiment of style trumping substance. Many an urbane European, drinking their skinny lattes on pavement cafes and flicking through their Guardian, have balked at the prospect of Palin as vice-president.

Not only is she ideologically repugnant to many, she also seems to represent a mindless populism and outdated social conservatism. Many simply render her wrong, believing the voters gathering behind her are little more than poor misguided sheep. Yet her popularity – especially amongst rural voters – should not be dismissed so easily. She connects with a part of American society which Barack Obama cannot. ‘Palin Power’ has mobilised a base of support from parts of America which are often alienated from political debate. She effortlessly jumps from the US stock market to the football field, talking directly to average American folks. Obama’s Harvard education, Kenyan father and perfect family, on the other hand, has an air of unreality about it to many.

Britain is not as good at this political populism. Voter turn-out is invariably low and the result is that a large proportion of the population are politically sidelined. Can anyone really envisage David Cameron whipping up a 50,000 seat stadium in the way Palin or Obama can?

This is not because of any enduring British stoicism, disregard for populism or political astuteness. Witness the enduring success of Katie Price (aka Jordan) in the book sales market; the dog from Shropshire who managed to get into the top ten of ‘Britain’s Got Talent’; and the sustainability of everyone’s favourite box opening programme, ‘Deal or No Deal’. Britain, like America, has a large section of society disconnected from politics. In the long run, neglecting this audience will be damaging to democracy. Apathy will rise, political debate will be closed to the majority, and democracy will lose value.

We would do well to remember that democracy remains one big popularity contest. This means we have to accept the importance and relevance of politicians like Sarah Palin. Blatant populism in the face of good sense and reason is never a good idea. However, politicians must remain accessible if democracy is to work properly. Stepping down from soaring rhetoric and high-minded ideology and engaging with the ‘folksy’ electorate is vital; politicians must pay close attention to the image and style they project. An element of dumbing down and setting aside policy in favour of populism is thus necessary. British folks could learn a thing or two from American political populism.