At the end of my survey of the cold war era public information film (Stupid Gits part one) I suggested that its history mirrored its society’s history. This seems obvious enough. The earlier PIFs had, as I suggested, treated their audience with a mixture of paranoia, fear, and outright contempt. They had abused ‘humour’, and perhaps overstepped the mark in the use of fear directed at children. In doing so, they gave voice to cultural anxieties that were most clearly demonstrated in the films that were never shown - Protect and Survive (1975).

Once the major sources for many of these anxieties had dissipated, above all the Cold War, and once things that had previously been identified as problems - behaviour in factories, trips to the countryside, smog - seemed less significant, the makers of these films increasingly focused on new areas of human behaviour. The frequency and timing of the films has also declined. We do not see them at prime time to the same extent, but more in the dead of night (with the exception of high profile campaigns). This, I contend, is not because we are necessarily better informed, but because government no longer has the authority to make the kind of pronouncements it used to in the full glare of the public. Most PIFs these days are variants on road safety, fire hazards, or smoking related illnesses. They are often ‘signed’ by the relevant government department - just so you know who brought you this desperately important information - and may provide weblinks so that you can frighten yourself online as well.

The tone has not really changed however. ‘10 Stupid Things’ (1995) opens with Chris Tarrant intoning: ‘Messing with fireworks is stupid.’ The multi ethnic children on a council estate walkway may more accurately represent society, but the patronising of young people continues to represent their intelligence as low. ‘The best don’t mess’ indeed, Chris; well, thanks for that truly contrived slogan. I’m sure the kids who knew how to obtain fireworks didn’t know they could do anything else with their time. Along with devolution, PIFs now indicate devolved health priorities. So ‘Alcohol Abuse’ (2001) is a Scottish PIF for heavy drinking Scottish teenagers. This film intercuts images of innocent teenage attraction with not so innocent teenage parties. The fear of youth, the mistrust, and the contempt are all still there.

Many of these films reek of the desperation of forty years spent trying to get the message across to these idiots. Julie (1998 but shown for five years) is a graphic account of the death of a woman whose boy in the back seat was not wearing his seatbelt and is thrown forward, killing her. Just whose fault this is is unclear: she dies because he is thrown at her, but then he is clearly old enough to have put his seatbelt on. Is he the male idiot, like Joe, like the ‘lad’ of earlier PIFs, like the factory floor teenage boy, or is she an irresponsible mother? At least there is some ambiguity about it. ‘Like most victims, Julie knew her killer.’ Nice touch - playing on female fears of assault before revealing the real intent. Whereas in the original ‘Stupid Git’ campaign (1983) the laddish tone is maintained throughout, ‘Crash’ (2004) turns all serious by having the inevitable drunk driving accident happen, as it were, in the pub, while the men are still drinking. Cue smashing glass and dramatic faces.

The form has always shown some technical sophistication, in varying degrees: either by mixing animation and live action (Joe and Petunia); by mixing computer games and real life (Space Invaders); by taking the techniques of different genre films (Rabies Outbreak and the Natural Born Smoker); or by adapting the style of animation to the audience (Charley Says). Here the drinking and the accident are shown as essentially the same act by having all the smashed bodies and glass in the pub. Incidentally, the accident is the main focus of modern drink driving PIFs: in the past, the loss of one’s licence was seen as just as significant (and, runs the implication, perhaps more likely).

Of course, some things were not such an issue in the cold war era, like recycling: Eddie Izzard gives a nice, friendly and slightly self mocking performance in one of the latest recycling PIFs (January 2006): and this may herald a new departure for the genre. Not treating people as total idiots, or the world as about to end, we are just gently reminded of the fact that we can recycle. Speeding is as much of a cultural worry now as drink driving, or as seatbelts were at the time Shaw Taylor ran a PIF campaign to get people to wear them (1972). Cars are ridiculously powerful now, and policemen can therefore be acquitted of doing 159mph on motorways; but it is the baleful effect of the car on the suburbs that we really worry about. Despite the fact that it is not easy to do more than 30mph at many times of
the day, ‘Slow Down’ (2005) emphasises the importance of the limit. Here again we see a more cultured approach: statistics, logic, thought. The voice of a girl provides the compulsory emotional impact: we can’t be expected to respond just to a set of statistics, or a well thought out argument.

Mobile phones have caused a lot of anxiety in certain quarters: if it isn’t cancer of the brain (which, apparently, it isn’t), or happy slapping, or pornography, or text bullying, it is accidents. A Department for Transport PIF from 2005 shows teenagers, ‘a real group of friends’ according to the website, tantalising us with the prospect that this is real, filming themselves larking about until one of them is shockingly knocked over by a car. As far as road safety is concerned, teenagers are the new under 10s.

Smoking is a major headache for the government. Accordingly some of the most shocking PIFs are dedicated towards getting people give it up. I referred in the first essay to ‘The Natural Born Smoker’ (1985) a PIF for which there is very little evidence on the web, but which featured a man with distended or shrunken appendages - and which was shown at teatime, during children’s programmes. Now the government does not attempt to terrify children, but adults instead. PIFs with arteries being squeezed of fatty deposits, tracheotomy patients, and dying cancer patients in their 50s (this last one promising to make it to his daughter’s wedding, and, as the caption informs us, failing) assault our imaginations and attempt to stimulate our moral capacities. Well, they may be idiots, but they know death when they see it.

Whether this approach has worked, I do not know, but the sense of desperation is palpable, as is the fact that clearly people see these films and ignore them - why do they do that? Because they are stupid, or because they know hectoring when they see it, and are turned off by it? Can you run a society of educated, intelligent persons, whose lives demand a huge and increasing amount of operational independence, by simply telling them things are bad for them and they must stop? Then there is the alternative - do you simply give up and ban the things causing the problem? In ten years’ time we will perhaps see lots of PIFs about drug driving, the dangers of cannabis smoking or even ‘The Natural Born Burger Eater’. Perhaps PIFs are one of the prices we pay for being relatively free. Or, as governments might see it, the price authority has to pay for letting people remain free.

As I suggested previously, part of the role of the PIF has been subsumed into programming. It is now entirely routine for adults to be treated like small children on programmes such as Fit Club, or You Are What You Eat, and to be hectored into changing their lifestyles. The reason it is OK is that people do behave like children, and don’t we love to see people being humiliated. Public health is now such a concern that is absolutely fine for TV programmes to warn people that they will get bowel cancer, or that they should stop eating meat. The difference between these shows and PIFs is that here people are hectored by self proclaimed experts, and whatever else we may be, we are still impressed by experts. Another development, which has been underway for a long time, is the inclusion of public health and safety messages into fictional programming. Grange Hill did it in 1986-87 with heroin use (and the ‘Heroin Screws You Up’ posters subsequently became fashionable); this week Neighbours, believe it or not, is helping the BBC promote adult literacy, and the tagline ‘If you have been affected by any of the issues raised in tonight’s programmes, then fuck off and sort yourself out’ is regularly heard (OK, it doesn’t quite go like that). We are still definitely stupid gits, and the programme makers are doing the government’s
job with them.

Times may have changed, but now we have a replacement for cold war anxiety - terrorism anxiety. Although we have had a new version of Protect and Survive delivered to our homes, I am not aware of apocalyptic PIFs having been produced to reinforce it. Having said that, the Protect and Survive PIFs were technically classified until the early eighties, so perhaps such films do exist, ready to be wheeled out to tell us that central government has gone, or is going, and having listened to their messages for so long, we cannot do so any longer and must stand on our own two feet - with tin opener and bottle opener, of course.

Sources used over the two essays:
Charley Says (2001) DVD (Network)
Threads (1984) (Revelation Films)
www.625.uk.com
www.tv-ark.org.uk
www.thinkroadsafety.gov.uk