Michael Moore is a political publishing phenomenon. His first book, Stupid White Men, sold a million copies in 12 months; his second, Dude, Where's My Country? sold a million copies in three weeks. Much of what is in the second was in the first. Moore is now a multimillionaire, with world tours, t-shirts, audio books and an Oscar for the anti-gun movie Bowling for Columbine.

At a time when politics has never been so unfashionable and unpopular, why do millions of people buy a "political" paperback? Partly because Moore is a celebrity; he started life making off-beat television programmes which debunked the powerful and spoke up for the little guy. Partly because he uses humour to make his point, and his style is childishly simple. Partly because he skips over complex arguments and nuance, and makes sweeping ex cathedra statements. Moore is untroubled by anything that stands in the way of his own political standpoint, including accuracy. When challenged on CNN over his liberal attitude towards the facts, Moore responded: "How can there be inaccuracy in comedy?"

So this is a kind of megaphone politics - politics for people who don't understand politics. It reminds me of the student revolutionaries at college who would appear fresh from their gap years in Thailand or India and talk passionately about oppression, capitalism, the working class and the bosses, and three weeks after graduating get jobs in advertising or management consultancy. We could do with a little less of Moore.

There is an art to spotting politicians whose stars are in the ascendant, and knocking out the first serious biography. Early biographies are usually taken over by events as their subject progresses up the greasy pole. As a politician nears the top, there is an enhanced interest in their career to date, and an enterprising biographer can plug the gap.

John Rentoul's first biography of Blair appeared in 1994, just as things were getting interesting, but it was one of the first out of the traps. The same is true of Robert Harris's The Making of Neil Kinnock (1984) or Leslie Smith's Harold Wilson (1964).

Stephen Pollard, newspaper columnist and Atkins diet evangelist, is writing the biography of home secretary David Blunkett. He's been into the Home Office conducting interviews and gathering material. He's helped by Blunkett's autobiography On A Clear Day, first published in 1995 and revised and updated in 2002. There's a forthcoming biography of new Tory leader Michael Howard, written by a Tory insider. John Burton, Tony Blair's long-standing agent in Sedgefield, and one of the charmed circle of Labour stalwarts who saw the young Blair's potential and fixed the selection for him in 1983 is the subject of a new biography The Grit in the Oyster.

Reginald Maudling was an interesting bloke. He was a Tory politician hired by Churchill and fired by Thatcher. A new biography, Reggie, by Lewis Baston is out in the new year, published by Sutton. Baston, whose previous credits include Sleaze and more recently the Political Map of Britain, says: "I thought he was an interesting character so I wanted to read a biography about him. But I discovered there wasn't one, so I got in touch with his family and decided to write one. People just don't know very much about him now and there is so much to tell. People who knew him always say what a pleasant, jolly man he was."

So who should wannabe political biographers be choosing as their subjects? There are no biographies yet of Jack Straw, Charles Clarke, Margaret Beckett, Peter Hain, Paul Boateng or Ian McCartney. Any takers? And Iain Duncan Smith's life story remains unwritten. A really prescient biographer could do worse than write the life story of Alan Milburn - not because of what he has done, but because of what he might go on to do. I think you know what I mean.

Peter Riddell's Hug Them Close is a thoughtful contribution about the special relationship between the UK and US, personified by successive presidents and prime ministers. Riddell, whose Times columns drip with insight, concludes: "America is the most powerful nation on earth and is mainly a force for good. But it cannot ensure security and peace on its own. The US needs allies and partners to whom it listens rather than dictates." Indeed.

Finally, the stunning success of Schott's Original Miscellany last Christmas (I bought four copies), and his follow-up Miscellany of Food and Drink this year, makes me want to see a political miscellany in print, with all those weird and wonderful things that politics throws up. The most resignations from a government, the strangest assassination, the biggest political scandal, the prime minister with the most lovers, and so on. That's the challenge for next Christmas.

· Paul Richards is chairman of the Fabian Society and writes a monthly column for Guardian Unlimited