Power Trip: A Decade of Policy, Plots and Spin

Power Trip: A Decade of Policy, Plots and Spin

Damian McBride

Language: English

Pages: 448

ISBN: 1849545960

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


"I have always admired McBride's writing—imagine Luca Brasi with a Cambridge degree—and am not surprised that his memoirs are proving so gripping, given the material and his genuine talent as a stylist."—The Daily Telegraph

"Damian McBride is a bastard. And, unusually for a memoirist, he's very keen to let you know that from the start."—New Statesman

The candid memoir of former Prime Minister Gordon Brown's chief spin doctor lays open the often funny, often disturbing world internecine of political feuding, detailing the feuds, political plots, and media manipulation that lie at the core of British politics.

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evening plans, and she’d say incredulously: ‘Oh my God, are you not watching the news?’, and I’d have to admit that I wasn’t and had no idea why she was so busy. None of this felt like a relief from the burdens of the job or a release from my responsibilities. I just felt totally lost and a little abandoned. In that context, I’ve never forgotten the Westminster people who – just like my oldest school friends and the group I went to Arsenal with – stayed constantly in touch, checking I was OK and

and about Gordon to the top of the news list; and conversely, hundreds of occasions when I stopped negative stories about the government and Gordon getting in the papers. Gordon almost certainly looks back and wishes he’d dealt with me earlier, or before it was too late, but at what point, in what week, was he ever supposed to have given up everything else I offered him for the sake of quelling the occasional problems I caused him? That’s why he never did. As for me, with the benefit of

fingers through his thick, unwashed hair, and now had it sticking up like an outsize cockatoo, just as he was about to step in front of the cameras. I shouted: ‘Gordon! Stop! GORDON! STOP!’ He didn’t. I was desperate: ‘TONY!’ Blair turned round. ‘Stop Gordon, stop him there! Don’t let him go out!’ Tony did as asked, and I rushed forward, took Gordon into a side room and flattened out his hair. As I walked back out, Tony’s staff looked disgusted that I’d deemed to address ‘The Leader’ directly,

When No. 10 unilaterally decided it wasn’t, it made me look like an idiot but also made us look complicit in their contempt for the press. So I gave Paul Waugh at the Standard a copy of the schedule for the day including the time set aside for media Q&A. No. 10 were furious about that, but I cared even less than normal, because the hair thing bugged me. At least a dozen No. 10 people ahead of me in that corridor could see that Gordon’s hair looked mental and the pictures would invite ridicule,

relevant elbow and whisper in his ear their name and any other crucial information. Often this would just be a reminder in case he knew the face but was struggling for the details, so, for example: ‘Cheryl Cole, Girls Aloud, recovering from malaria, don’t mention Ashley.’ Gordon would then greet them warmly and reference the other information, and especially with celebrities and journalists, they’d feel special and at ease with him right from the off. It didn’t always go to plan though. Once, he

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