Television ratings are not necessarily a reliable index to political popularity, but Tory politicians are still busy reading implications into Prime Minister Harold Macmillan's latest TV appearance. When Mac started to talk, he had an audience of nearly 8,000,000, according to the British equivalent of a Nielsen survey, but by the time he had finished his 15-minute address, more than 1,000,000 viewers had switched off their sets. With syrupy platitudes, the Prime Minister glossed over difficulties and blurred issues, failed to spell out forcefully what his policies would really mean to Britain. "The Prime Minister lolls and drools in fireside chats," said Ray Gunter, a member of the Labor Party's shadow cabinet. "He says we have done jolly well, but we ought to do a little better ... It is wrong to lead the people with words suited to a girls' junior hockey side."
Macmillan's television performance was only the latest in a series of disappointments that have made Britain begin to question his leadership. Fortnight ago, while addressing the Oxford University Conservative Association, Macmillan was hooted down by undergraduates shouting "Give us more cliches." In the lobbies of Westminster and the coffeehouses of Soho, a major national pastime is "rubbing the magic off Mac." No longer is he the urbane figure who rescued the Tory Party from the Suez disaster, repaired the Anglo-American breach, led the Tories to a smashing election victory in 1959 with the slogan: "You never had it so good." To many Tories, Macmillan's familiar Edwardian image has become a liability.
Too Fast, Too Slow. As it happens, Britons do have it good. They have more money, more leisure, more television sets, washing machines and refrigerators than ever before. In the midst of this prosperity, Britain is making a number of historic decisions. Having resigned itself long ago to a reduced status in world affairs compared with the U.S. and Russia, it is also detaching itself somewhat from the historic and psychological tradition of Commonwealth and Empire. By preparing to join the Common Market, Britain in fact acknowledged that its economic destiny lies more with Europe than with the Commonwealth. But there is discontentment among Britons opposed to the changes, and among those who feel the changes are not happening fast enough.
Heightening the feeling of unrest is the fact that the economy, despite prosperity, is turning sluggish. In the first six months of 1961, Britain lost $460 million in gold and currency, and economists warn that if the country is to support itself, exports must rise 10% per year over the next four years; the predicted rise for 1962 is only 4%. To make Britain's industry more competitive for foreign markets, the government instituted a "pay pause" for Britain's state-employed workers. Reason: in the first half of 1961, production rose only 2%, while wages jumped 9%, compared with the same period in 1960. The result was a wave of strikes organized by Britain's notoriously fat and powerful unions.