Jacob Rees-Mogg: ‘Reality TV show Meet the Rees-Moggs is a calculated risk’

“I don’t want to be a celebrity,” former Conservative MP Sir Jacob Rees-Mogg insists when I ask him why he, his wife and six children have decided to take part in a Kardashian-esque reality series called Meet the Rees-Moggs.

“You have to be open if you’re a public figure and if you’re telling people to vote for you, you have to tell them who you are and what you’re about,” he says. “And, of course, I thought it would be fun.”

In his 14 years as an MP, the former minister came to be viewed as one of the most controversial politicians of recent times thanks to some of his hardline views. These include total opposition to abortion (even in cases of incest and rape) and a belief that there should be no climate change legislation.

In the aftermath of the Grenfell Tower fire, which killed 72 people, Sir Jacob said it would have been “common sense” for residents to flee the building, ignoring fire brigade advice. A survivors group described the comments as “extremely painful and insulting”. Sir Jacob later said he “profoundly apologised”.

In 2017, former Conservative MP Matthew Parris said Sir Jacob had “perfumed manners, but his opinions are poison”.

“If you ever say what you think in politics you’re immediately thought of as controversial,” Sir Jacob tells me as we sit in one of the many dining rooms in his London townhouse.

I ask if he enjoys riling people up and he admits to “loving it”, adding: “Some people are so easy to wind up that I’m afraid it does entertain me.”

Now Sir Jacob, who is also a GB News presenter, hopes the reality show gives him another platform to, in his words, “get the Conservative message out there”.

It is not known how much he is being paid by Discovery+ for the documentary, but as his wife is the heiress to a reported £45 million fortune, money doesn’t seem to be a motive.

So, what other motivation could there be for the former banker to take part in the show? Is it part of a plan to re-enter politics in the next election after he lost his seat in July?

You get the sense he misses the goings-on of Westminster – he confesses that he still sticks to his MP timetable of returning to his former constituency every Thursday afternoon to Sunday.

But he says he hasn’t thought that far ahead. He jokes taking part in his family reality show is “better than going into the jungle” and that he has no plans to follow in the footsteps of Nigel Farage and Matt Hancock, who appeared on ITV’s I’m a Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here!

Former Downing Street director of communications Simon Lewis says he thinks Sir Jacob is “looking to reposition”.

“He’s only 55 years old and he’s got time to have a second or third chapter doing something different,” Mr Lewis said on the When It Hits the Fan podcast.

Carol Midgley of the Times questioned the politician’s motives for doing the show in her three-star review.

“It’s not as if he needs… [the] money so why such a blatant PR push? Does he – shock, horror – want the public to love him because he is eyeing another series and a TV career beyond GB News?”

Former journalist David Yelland says there’s something “very powerful about the mass market thinking they know you”. He points to examples such as President-elect Donald Trump, whose role on The Apprentice helped him acquire the name recognition needed to run for president, and to Farage’s stint on I’m a Celeb.

Sir Jacob is married to Helena de Chair and the couple have six children, ranging in age from 17 to seven, who all feature in the reality series.

He says the family are “more Addams family than Keeping up with the Kardashians” and proceeds to sing the theme tune of the 1964 TV series: “They’re creepy and they’re kooky, mysterious and spooky.”

The lifestyle the Rees-Moggs lead is certainly kooky to the ordinary person – in the show, the family have black-tie dinners every Saturday, attend a birthday party at Boris Johnson’s house, and there’s Sunday Mass in a private chapel on the family’s Somerset estate.

Then there’s all the staff employed by the family, who do everything from plump the pillows to fold the former minister’s underwear.

A large, grand portrait of industrious family nanny Veronica, who was also Sir Jacob’s nanny when he was a child, hangs in the hallway of the Rees-Moggs’ London home.

At the age of 81, it must be tiring running such a big household and looking after three energetic young boys but as I walk past her, she smiles at me before busying herself again with sorting out baskets of toys.

Sir Jacob says he was very aware of the risk that came with inviting cameras into his home.

“Reality programmes can be very unfavourable, so there was a risk involved in doing this but Helena and I agreed it was a sensible risk.

“By virtue of being called Rees-Mogg, my children can’t escape who they are and this has always had an effect on their life – they’ve grown up with people telling them ‘my parents don’t like your daddy’ and we decided that this show wouldn’t make that any better or worse.”

He adds that the children thought it was “rather exciting” and his daughter Mary was the “most enthusiastic out of all of us”.

“We have full throttle discussions about politics and religion as a family,” he says.

“In fact, one or two of them make me feel quite lefty,” he jokes, but refuses to tell me more.

He adds that not all dinner table conversations are so serious and says he has recently been learning “modern slang”.

“My daughter has been trying to teach me all of these words like rizz and wasteman which I now understand is not a dustman but rather a waste of space.”

“And I’ve learnt that sick means good,” he says gleefully.

Critics are divided on whether watching five hours of the former MP run around his London townhouse and Somerset mansion is worth it.

The Independent called the show “toothless and vapid” and its two-star review said the documentary “fails to challenge him in any serious way, and is instead a portrait of a curious, attention-seeking family”.

“Those expecting a hate-watch will be disappointed; those expecting a political hagiography will find it vapid,” Nick Hilton wrote.

Joel Golby from the Guardian said the show was “impeccable reality TV” but questioned whether the ex-MP “should be allowed on our screens”.

“This is reputation management of the highest order,” he wrote, criticising the “softest editing” which painted Sir Jacob wrongly as a “harmless gosh-and-golly goof”.

In Midgley’s review in the Times, she said he could be on to a winning strategy as “viewers do love to press their noses to the windows of the wealthy”.

If Midgley is right, then Sir Jacob could be patting himself on the back as his “calculated risk” pays off.