The times, it seems, are a-changing.  Supposedly staid, our nation of shopkeepers is hot under the collar about fraudulent MPs.  And quite right too.  Personally, I’m hoping the outcome of this sentiment is a wave of people standing as independent candidates at the next general election.  As for the upcoming June 4 elections, I do have some concern that the UKIP and BNP numpties will make an impression — but am confident that the subsequent behaviour of their representatives will make voters realise they’ve made a mistake not to be repeated.  One thing you can rely on fascists for, train timetables notwithstanding, is knuckleheadedness.

The preceding is by way of indicating that sometimes public mood can be sensed, and right now the sense of injustice is palpable.  And it is, perhaps inevitably, fanned by people with an agenda: The Daily Telegraph, no fan of the Labour party but rightly vexed with the way that Tories too are nose-deep in the public trough.

All of which of says that playing with the mood of crowds is an interesting business.  And if you want to see it done well, watch Britain’s Got Talent.  Seriously.  That show plays with emotions like Hendrix played a guitar, taking audiences at home and in the studio from agony to ecstasy and back again in virtuoso fashion.

What can be learned from this?  Well, it shows for one thing that there’s a tremendous appetite for emotional experience.  Which, at its root, is what storytelling can provide.  But can drama hope to equal the raw emotion generated by a show like BGT?  The elements involved are straightforward enough: contestants who have the look and feel of reality about them, all with some or other gift for performance that they hope the public will like.  A studio audience, whose cheers and boos have more impact on performers mostly unused to large audiences than old hands would be.  And a panel of judges headed up by Simon Cowell, whose shrewd assessments come with either a seal of approval or withering dismissal.

Put all these ingredients together and it’s no wonder that BGT has captured the public imagination.  It presses buttons in people, triggering first one emotion then its opposite and back again in rapid succession.  In hypnosis, that technique is called fractionation: you induce a particular state in someone, then do something else, then reaccess that state, and so on, the effect being to heighten that state when it is experienced again.  Which isn’t to say that the programme makers are knowingly using mesmerism, just that such devices can be found should you recognise what you’re experiencing.

The social dynamics of the show are as interesting as its psychology.  One tremendously popular act is Stavros Flatley, a 40 year old Cypriot dad and his 12 year old son who simply loon around parodying yer Riverdance man with a genuinely funny act that makes abundantly clear the strength of the relationship between the two.  It’s a delight to see, when the media is full of stuff about deadbeat dads and the Child Support Agency.  Similarly, dance troupe Diversity are a glorious counterblast to the notion that young people, black ones in particular, are a danger to society at large.  And that’s important.

Back in the world of television drama, there still aren’t enough examples of Britain today visible in the cast and in storylines.  There are still tired tales of arranged marriages whenever an Asian family moves into a soap street, and there has to be so much more than that: I know there is, because an Asian taxi driver I got a ride with today got talking about a true life story that comes from his family and he would love to be able to find an audience for.

Is it any wonder that YouTube is so popular?  If people can’t see themselves represented in all their fullness in mainstream drama, they’ll start to look elsewhere for reflections of their lives.  That applies to different aspects of cultural diversity, but also to emotional range: the clips that people urge me to view on YouTube are largely ones which inspire empathy, and through that connection humour, hope, or whatever else the subjects of homemade clips are experiencing.  And we as writers have to offer connections just as strong in the work that we create.