"It made me look like I was in a ransom video": Inside the chaotic world of Zoom punditry

Video calling, the real winner of the lockdown, has given us more glimpses into other people’s homes than we could have ever hoped—and what’s the first thing we do when we peer past the face in the box, and take in the landscape behind? We judge. As Michael Gove discovered this month, we'll spot the David Irvings and the Ayn Rands stacked above the television and say something on the internet about them.

Two new and incredibly popular Twitter accounts have capitalised on this enduring human curiosity. American Twitter account Room Rater commands 158k followers, and was set up in April to give scores out of 10 to the backgrounds of pundits appearing on TV news. Scores are doled out based on the composition, presentation, and the quality of home décor on display. Actor Daniel Radcliffe, who appears to be standing in a kitchen that wouldn’t look out of place in an undergraduate dormitory, gets a 3/10 for his effort: "You'll need a magic wand to fix this. Try another room." Why not watch and learn from fellow actor Paul Giamatti, who gets a strong 8/10: "The depth and camera angle work. The lights on either side of the bookcase do as well. Add a succulent."

https://twitter.com/ratemyskyperoom/status/1258054307657723905

A UK version, Bookcase Credibility, also set up in April and already at 63k followers, sharpens the target of judgment. It’s like they’ve taken the famous John Waters quote—“If you go home with somebody, and they don't have books, don't fuck 'em!”—and run it through a pandemic filter. Former Labour spin doctor Alastair Campbell stands in what looks like his book-heavy living room, but Bookcase Credibility is unimpressed. "A neatly formulated credibility grab with books running directly into Alastair's head, while on the other side the stairs are a drop into an abyss of ignorance," it pronounces: "Sadly, the spaces on the shelves are fatal. They gape at us in mute horror. It is hard to look away."

https://twitter.com/BCredibility/status/1256347021130301441

The alternative to a busy, open-to-critique background is an entirely blank one, stripped of any signs of personality. That seems smart at first, but quickly ends up horrifying. Editor Jessica Hayden, has, like many of us, turned to Zoom calls with her colleagues during the lockdown. She says: “I used a plain white wall until a colleague told me it made me look like I was in a ransom video.” A comparable effort by Labour leader Keir Starmer doesn’t make him appear to be in such danger, but it does suggest that his home is exactly like those bureaucratic rooms where government inquiries take place. Over on Room Rater, there’s a rather troubling picture of former United States representative Beto O’Rourke in what appears to be a cave, and no, it’s definitely not the kind of luxurious cave you store wine in. Don't worry though, he's come back strong since with a 9/10. “America,” Room Rater says, “loves a redemption story.”

So a plain background doesn’t work; neither does a creepily unfinished one. There needs to be some evidence that the talking head lives in a home. We expect to see the domestic balanced precariously with the professional. As both Twitter accounts accurately pinpoint, we do judge these experts on the quantity, quality and arrangement of their books. But beyond that, there's a voyeuristic, envy-stricken delight in peering into the lives of television pundits. While most of us are likely to have given away our books as we move from rented flat to rented flat, there's an entire class of people who base their entire careers on knowing things and commenting on them—and collecting the books to prove it. “Books are the clue, the key, the Rosetta Stone for finding out who someone is,” Caroline O'Donoghue wrote in Prospect just before the lockdown. 

The fraught politics of the Zoom background is something that Elie Jacobs, a New York-based strategic communications consultant, has learnt over the course of many TV appearances. He says: “I’ve spent a lot of time on video calls over the last four years and nearly as much time doing interviews for outlets like i24 News, Al Jazeera English, and Al Hura. We live in a one-bedroom apartment, so there aren’t a lot of options for backgrounds." Unlike some of older and more established TV pundits, Jacobs admits to not having the level of real estate and indoor space to show off credibility-raising bookshelves.

"Since the lockdown started" Jacobs says, "I’ve had our bookshelves deep in the background of my video calls. That’s both for security and out of personal preference to not be alternately ostentatious or cluttered. Previously, I’d move around to ensure the best light possible, but also to remove anything that is readily identifiable in the background.” Smart moves, for sure, especially if he doesn't have the seemingly mandatory Nelson Mandela autobiography to hand; but being too careful can rob a pundit of the chance to show off some personality.

Jacobs has to make some practical choices when beaming himself out of his one-bedroom apartment, but if there’s anything that video calling has taught us about the people who get to do it, it’s that they often have pretty luxurious bookcases—even home libraries. Who isn’t fascinated by Chancellor Rishi Sunak’s study (and taste in hoodies)? Who wouldn’t want to peep into Tony and Cherie Blair’s house, especially given that the former prime minister could charge £6,000 a minute for after-dinner speeches? Who doesn’t dream of one day owning a home library so towering that a ladder is required? If we could, we’d all keep the "celebrity book curators" of the world in business.

As James Waddell wrote in Prospect in February, talking about books on Twitter “is actually an opportunity to discuss by proxy everyone’s real favourite topics: social class and intellectual status.” Thanks to video calling, we can have that discussion, and add our views on the properties in which our thought leaders reside. Absurdly palatial set-ups satisfy our need to slip through the keyhole of someone else’s pad; to look at an interior we haven’t been stuck inside for months, and to remind ourselves that we will never, ever be able to afford the kind of interior space that gets us a 9 or 10 out of 10 on Room Rater or Bookcase Credibility.