I chaired a conference session on some interesting work by Gavin Rees on journalism and trauma this morning.

I missed the afternoon, but the ever-sensible Martin Moore was there for another step in the rehabilitation of former lobbyist Derek Draper:

John Lloyd (journalist and director of Reuters Institute for Study of Journalism) and Derek Draper (ex journalist, ex lobbyist, ex New Labour insider, now adult and child psychotherapist – no, really – see here) were talking about whether it was an interviewer’s responsibility to ‘humanise’ politicians.

In Derek Draper’s view our political interviews lack emotion. Not just the heat that comes from a typical Today programme cross-examination but raw human emotion – think Hillary’s tears in New Hampshire or Sarkozy’s romantic confessions. It’s only when they show this emotion – expose themselves as humans with feelings, Draper argued, that people connect and engage with them.

Does this mean that rather than John Humphrys grilling Gordon Brown about the NHS during the 8.10am interview, he should instead ask him about how he feels, how he’s getting on with his colleagues (and family?) and what cheers him up? In Draper’s view the answer is yes.

Aaarrrgghh. As if we don’t have enough emoting already. As if the airwaves, the press, and now the internet aren’t full of feature pieces, confessionals, and emotional outpourings. The relative space, time and money given to questioning the government about what it’s actually doing is shrinking and shrinking. Proper scrutiny of the business of government? Declining. Detailed analysis of the effectiveness of departments? Disappearing. Local government reporting? Mostly gone. Courts? Gone.

And now Draper (who seemed to reflect the views of some of the audience – and presumably others outside) wants to turn the few spaces left into couch confessions. Help.

John Lloyd (who prior to Draper’s presentation quite liked the idea of interviewers making politicians more human) was, by the end, crying out for their ‘dehumanisation’- or at least that they be approached rationally rather than emotionally. Politicians should be asked what they’re doing, Lloyd said, not who they are.

Lloyd’s right, of course. But what was Draper doing there? Just ten years ago, Draper was being called out by Greg Palast. Here is Palast describing Draper the lobbyist:

…from our first New York-to-London call, Draper gossiped, gushed and ultimately could not resist revealing his special access to the Treasury and 10 Downing Street, Britain’s White House.

If we retained his firm, what could he deliver for our money? Could he secure a seat on one of the government’s task forces? Done! “We just got the Chief Executive of British Gas on the government’s Welfare to Work Task Force.”

Draper emphasized that winning this coveted spot at the elbow of the chancellor was an enormous achievement for a company once known in Labour circles as “the Fat Cats headed by Cedric the Pig” (an unkind reference to former British Gas chairman Cedric Brown).

What if my clients had reputations far less savoury than BG? Not a problem.

In fact, Draper was about to sign up such a “challenging” client, US lottery operator GTech Corp, a company whose lucrative links to Bush allies in Texas I was also investigating. Gtech was in hot water. A jury had found Gtech’s CEO guilty of attempting to bribe British tycoon Richard Branson, hoping to buy him out of the competition to run Britain’s lottery.

While running for office, Blair had committed to oust these Ugly Americans from the consortium which had exclusive rights to operate the United Kingdom’s lottery. Draper described his scheme-in-progress to waltz GTech around the official watchdogs and lure Blair’s ministers into a sticky web of agreements with his new client.

“The government needed someone to sell tickets for this ridiculous Millennium Dome thing that my old boss is building. But GTech is offering to do that via the national lottery-selling equipment.

Now it doesn’t take a lot to work out that if the government thinks that GTech can sell government tickets for the Dome then it’s got to be a legitimate firm to sell tickets for the lottery.

See what I mean? Our forte, like, is to be imaginative.” His “old boss” was The Dark Prince, Minister Peter Mandelson. To call Draper and “Mandy” close would be a grievous understatement. Mandy had dedicated his book, The Blair Revolution, to the young man.

In a profile in Business on Sunday Draper said his friendships with top office- holders were a “hindrance” to his lobbying business because his former workmates are “all so concerned to be ethical”. Nevertheless, Draper assured me that, if we needed to change a law to our liking, “I can have tea with Geoffrey Robinson! I can get in to Ed Balls!”

When Draper spoke of reaching Blair cabinet heavyweights Paymaster General Robinson and Balls, the chancellor’s chief adviser, you could hear the exclamation points in his voice. He added, “Once someone pays us.”

When Draper calls for more emotion in politics, be careful. Be VERY, VERY CAREFUL.