Leading questions can be dangerous. This 40-year-old British sitcom scene proves it
In early 1986, the British TV series Yes, Prime Minister aired a scene that remains stunningly relevant with its lessons about political manipulation, polling, media literacy and public policy.
The series was a sequel to Yes, Minister, and carried on with the exploits of Sir Humphrey Appleby (played perfectly by Nigel Hawthorne), the adroit mover and shaker behind the scenes.
The hand underneath the puppet, as it were.
As the title of the sequel series indicates, Sir Humphrey is now, um, “advising” the prime minister as cabinet secretary, and the stakes are higher than before.
In this scene, Sir Humphrey is speaking with Bernard Woolley (Derek Fowlds), the principal private secretary to the PM, who informs that the boss believes national service — that is, mandatory conscription — will be a vote-winner for the party.
Why? Because they have a public opinion poll showing people want it.
“Well, have another opinion poll done showing the voters are against bringing back National Service,” Sir Humphrey retorts.
“We can’t be for it and against it,” says Wooley.
“Oh, of course they can, Bernard,” says Sir Humphrey — and he proves it through a consecutive series of leading questions.
Here’s the full scene:
Pretending to be a “nice young lady” asking questions on the street, Sir Humphrey starts in with a series of questions.
“Mr Woolley, are you worried about the number of young people without jobs?”
“Yes.”
“Are you worried about the rise in crime among teenagers?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think there’s a lack of discipline in our comprehensive schools?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think young people welcome some authority and leadership in their lives?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think they respond to a challenge?”
“Yes.:”
“Would you be in favour of reintroducing National Service?”
Stumbling over a yes, Sir Humphrey says, “Oh, well, I suppose I might be.”
“Yes or no?”
“Yes.”
Of course he got that answer. As Sir Humphrey then remarks, “After all, you’ve told her you can’t say no to that.”
What happens then?
“So they don’t mention the first five questions and they publish the last one.”
That doesn’t sound very ethical, and Sir Humphrey admits the reputable pollsters won’t do that, “but there aren’t many of those.” (More on this shortly.)
Then Sir Humphrey flips the proverbial script, and gets exactly the desired result in the opposite direction. Here is the sequence of questions he asks:
- Are you worried about the danger of war?
- Are you worried about the growth of armaments?
- Do you think there’s a danger in giving young people guns and teaching them how to kill?
- Do you think it’s wrong to force people to take up arms against their will?
- Would you oppose the reintroduction of National Service?
Grinning a bit like a Cheshire Cat, Appeby says, “There you are, you see, Bernard. The perfect balanced sample.” He then instructs him to go along and “commission our own survey for the Ministry of Defence.”
A scene that touched a nerve
This scene has touched a nerve or two through the years, and for good reasons. In a few funny minutes, it teaches very serious lessons about how public opinion can be massaged — and how making policy can be such a cynical exercise.
It has warnings for the public (for example, this post condemns the “trickery” of leading questions), and lessons for those in charge.
There are also lessons, by the way, for those who do interviews in other contexts: researchers, academics and (in my case) journalists.
My eyes were opened to this scene in the early 1990s by John Sawatsky, a journalism professor whose workshops on interviewing were profoundly influential on many Canadian journalists, yours truly included.
John’s point: leading questions can be manipulative, and journalists need to guard against the temptation they might offer. John has always been an advocate for open-ended questions as best for discovery and learning. Close-ended questions (which typically yield yes/no or true/false answers) are best used for fact-checking and follow-ups — not as the main part of the interview.
The most reputable polls will not only tell you the sample size and methodology (i.e., how and precisely when the polls was done) but also reveal the list of questions, exactly as they were put to respondents, and in what order. Sir Humphrey’s advice of lopping off the first questions is a thing; my Spidey senses go right up when I can’t find the other questions in the poll.
Sir Humphrey was right, poll found
By the way, a couple of years ago there was a fascinating story in the British press.
The polling company Ipsos, inspired by this scene, took Sir Humphrey’s methodology to the public. One sample got the first batch of questions, and the second got the other.
“Sir Humphrey Appleby was right all along: polling can be manipulated to suit the political objectives of those who write the questions,” the London Telegraph reported in February 2024.
The first set of questions had 45 per cent saying yes and 38 per cent saying no. The second set had 48 per cent saying yes and 34 per cent saying no.
Ipsos had used online samples of 1,079 adults.
From the Telegraph’s article:
Keiran Padley, a pollster at the firm, said: “What does it all mean? Well, obviously we wouldn’t ever do this poll for real; the wording is too leading and there are rules about transparency of question wording and ordering.
“But it does show the importance of question wording, watching the detail and looking at more than just one poll when you want to understand what the public really think on an issue. Especially in an election year.”
The British Polling Council requires its members to adhere to transparency, and that means not following Sir Humphrey’s suggestion of lopping off all but the final questions. (The group though is voluntary and effectively self-policing, and has argued against “the heavy hand of regulation” by government, especially in the wake of times when pollsters got voting intentions very wrong indeed.)
In Canada, the closest such organization is known as CRIC, or the Canadian Research Insights Council. It formed following the abrupt closure in July 2018 of the Market Research and Intelligence Association. The new organization is also voluntary, and indeed it has called out media for reporting “polls” lacking in credibility. Its members are listed here.
A lot of thought goes into political announcements, and into decision-making.
For citizens, policy-makers, taxpayers, users of public services and, yes, journalists, there are lessons to be gleaned about what goes on behind the scenes … including exactly how questions are worded and asked.
Some things to consider this weekend
The Graduate Students’ Union at Memorial University in St. John’s has survived a dissolution challenge. (I still miss Bitters, the grad pub, at its prime.) (Heck, I miss the old Grad House, on Military Road, and I’m dating myself there.)
Angela Antle has won the Winterset Award — the gem of literary awards here in Newfoundland and Labrador — for her debut novel, The Saltbox Olive, published by Breakwater Books of St. John’s. This is a terrific achievement for Angela, a colleague at CBC before her retirement. In the interview below, Angela — inspired by two great-uncles — talks about how ordinary Newfoundlanders fought fascism during the Second World War, and how the themes are scarily relevant today.
Still with books, Mary Walsh has a new memoir out. Brassy Bit of Aging Crumpet might be my favourite book title this spring. She did an interview with CBC Radio’s The Current; you can here it in this episode.
And still with books, we now, finally, know who Frieda McFadden, the byline behind the bestselling Housemaid novels, really is: a doctor named Sara Cohen.
Splashdown! The Artemis II crew got home safely last night.
Mallard Cottage — the restaurant in Quidi Vidi Village in St. John’s — is reopening next month, for another swing at survival in its post-Todd Perrin era.
Now in their seventh decade, the Rolling Stones have a new album coming out.
Ut delphines natant: Bet you didn’t know that David Bowie’s “Heroes” was translated to Latin!