The first case of AIDS in Britain was reported in the British Medical Journal in December 1981. But it wasn’t until March 16th, 1986 that the Department of Health placed its first ‘public information’ advertisements in British newspapers.

I use the term ‘public information’ very loosely here because, in practice, it was a major disinformation campaign: it actually confused rather than informed the British public.

For example, a few months after the ‘campaign’, the British Medical Journal reported the results of a survey conducted at Southampton General Hospital:

• Before the campaign, 5% thought there was a vaccine against AIDS: after the campaign 10% did.
• Before the campaign, 10% believed AIDS was transmitted through the sharing of washing, eating and drinking utensils: after the campaign 14% did.
• And before the campaign, 48% didn’t know what the acronym AIDS stood for: after the campaign 59% didn’t.

It takes a special kind of incompetence to achieve that kind of result!

My memory of the first ads is that they featured a photo of the virus taken through an electron-microscope. It looked for all the world like a satellite picture of a desert island and had no real relevance to the process of increasing people’s knowledge about AIDS and its transmission.

In retrospect, the photo was probably used in desperation, given the huge constraints that were put on the ads’ content. Margaret Thatcher didn’t want to mount the campaign at all. When it was finally agreed to (after an extensive push by Chief Medical Officer Donald Acheson and Social Services Secretary Norman Fowler) she hindered it at every turn. Unhappy with the use of the words “anal intercourse”, she insisted that this be replaced with “back passage intercourse” and then, finally, “rectal sex”.

The use of the words ‘condom’, ‘rubber’ or ‘Durex’ – with which most people would have been familiar – was blocked in favour of the anacronistic ‘sheath’. Similarly, the word ‘penis’ was also felt to be inappropriate and it too was banned. Clearly this was hardly setting the context for an open and intelligent discussion on managing AIDS!

But apparently even this thoroughly neutered content was still felt to be too risky for Thatcher. As the final drafts for the ads finally came together – after a long and tortuous process – the Department of Health was contacted by Thatcher’s Private Secretary, Nigel Wicks. Did they really need to go out in newspapers, he asked, on her behalf. When questioned as to where else they could go he replied, “she was wondering about lavatory walls.”

It didn’t really get that much better when the Government moved to it’s second campaign some months later. These were the now infamous ‘tip of the iceberg’ advertisements, which were accompanied by the delivery of an information leaflet to every household in the country. The leaflet included the telephone number of the London Gay and Lesbian Switchboard, which was promptly bombarded with so many calls from people who simply weren’t at risk. In consequence, its phones broke down!

But, again, these outcomes will come as no surprise when one considers the mindset of some of those behind the campaign. This is well illustrated by the following example from Simon Garfield’s book The End of Innocence: Britain in the time of AIDS:

“There was talk of not sending leaflets to the elderly; before this was ruled out as too impractical, it was suggested the guidelines should be withheld from anyone whose first name was Gladys, Albert or Daisy.”

It’s terrifying to imagine where we might have been had the gay community not taken the initiative from the outset and launched its own programmes and campaigns.