LONDON -- I wish to draw to your attention a group of workers who are in a sorry plight. The use of their skills is in decline; where once they commanded our attention, they are now held in low esteem; the buildings in which they once worked are half deserted; their future does not look good. It is, in a way, one of the products of globalization.

This group is Britain's political comedians. Before the 1997 Labor government, political comedy thrived. A brief history of governments gives us the illustrious TV show "That was the Week That Was," which mocked the Conservative government to death. That was the beginning of the end of political deference.

Mockery, gentle or scathing, then became the monstrous chaperon of political leaders; wherever the politicians went, there was the comedian, mimicking them, deriding them, never letting them go -- and always morally superior. The chaperon comedian walked beside the politician holding up a distorting mirror for us to see the "truth" behind the suit and smart hairdo of our political leader. Politicians were silly children who fought and told fibs, and we, the viewers, were the adults who grew more and irritated at their shenanigans.