Such is the power of his world-famous TV show, it took me a huge amount of self-control not to chant "Jerry, Jerry, Jerry!" as Jerry Springer walked into the room ahead of his talk at the Union.

It must be frustrating for a man with an awful lot to say to be almost exclusively associated with one aspect of his life, but Springer handled the probing questions (inevitably coming from The Tab) about his controversial programme with the ease of someone confronted by them regularly. He expertly, countered claims that his show indulges in moral social sadism by explaining that it does not deal with “any serious or substantial issues.”

“Sure people get angry, but the show is a circus displaying the dysfunctional, the outrageous and the inappropriate. Uplifting stories are barred by the show’s contract and my team always instruct people with real issues to seek professional help.” 

Though initially on the defensive when tackling The Tab’s unrelenting challenges, he cleverly nipped the line of questioning in the bud with an attack on his critics, accusing them of elitism and hypocrisy:

“They don’t like the fact that my guests aren’t good-looking, don’t speak the Queen’s English or aren’t famous. If the stuff on my show was done by celebrities who’d written books about their sexual exploits and experiences with drugs, we’d cheer.”

“Those celebs are deemed ‘controversial figures’. But someone on my show – who lacks education or wealth – is deemed ‘trash’. It’s unbelievable! There’s nothing on my show that wasn’t worsened fifty times in the media. You’re all sending naked photos online – how can people complain about my show with that happening?”

This was such a cogent defence that it became increasingly clear that, perhaps, deep down, he loves the show – or at least, he is proud of it. Indeed, he is surprisingly unconcerned that it is for his show, rather than for his time as Mayor of Cincinnati or as a well-respected journalist, that he will be remembered. To him, it is unimportant that The Jerry Springer Show may well be his biggest legacy:

“A legacy is only important for your kids and grandkids. It’s vanity. We think we’re too important. Do good while you’re here and leave the world a little better than it was.”

That there is an often-unpublicised compassionate side to Springer was shown in his moving and harrowing episode of Who Do You Think You Are?, in which the story of how the majority of his family – parents excluded – was exterminated in Nazi concentration camps was examined.

And when I inquired about the man behind the TV camera lens, it became clear that politics is his true love, with his beliefs appearing pure and deep-rooted. That said, although active in the 1960s civil rights and anti-war movements, Springer was quick to explain that he would never want to enter politics as a career, because “becoming a professional politician is intellectually dishonest. Using it as a way to support a family leads to the pressure of winning the next election, and the compromising of principles. Your politics should be a cause, a religion, a duty, not a job.”

Firmly holding himself out to be a Democrat on the Liberal wing of the Party, Springer’s passion for politics was evident as he delivered a withering attack on conservativism:

“With conservativism, there is always a ‘but’. Everyone should have health insurance but it’s too expensive. Everyone should be allowed to marry and love whoever they want but not gay people because of the constitution.”

Indeed, attacking the American Right was a theme he continued later in his speech to the Union Chamber, where he attacked critics of gun control and the NRA, quoting Bob Dylan for added class. Other targets included politicians with the tendency to change their minds when an issue affects them, Donald Trump and Ben Carson. Struggling to hold back his frustration, he also delivered a powerful argument that put opponents of Universal Healthcare to the sword:

“How can you profess to love America but don’t care about normal Americans? How can the US government commit to spending whatever is necessary to right the wrong of 9/11, but not commit to spending whatever is necessary to ensure millions of Americans don’t die from preventable diseases? Is it only patriotism if the military is involved?” he demanded of the gathered Union members.

During their robust line of questioning about his show, The Tab journalist had asked Springer whether he ever ‘struggled to sleep at night.’ While having appeared unnecessarily aggressive at the time, the question was perhaps more germane than I realised: if just one tenth of the compassionate and caring liberal on display was real, Springer actually probably does struggle to sleep at night: he is probably lying awake, worrying about the country that he loves. Indeed, when he delivered one last message of reassurance to the Union Chamber, it could be one easily directed at himself rather than the audience:

“It’ll be okay, though, because Liberals always win. It’s a constant struggle. But we will win. We always do. The good side of humanity always prevails, and Liberals are always on the side of human instinct, reflecting the values taught by mothers across the world.”

While the man behind that show was far more complex than many would believe, it nonetheless remained clear that he is not a man with nefarious motives or a hidden agenda – he is all clarity, frankness, and honesty. Jerry Springer is a diehard liberal, and damn proud of it.