miércoles, 26 de febrero de 2014

Three cheers for PMQs | David Shariatmadari

Three cheers for PMQs | David Shariatmadari

Prime minister's questions isn't easy to love, but millions around the world would give anything to see their leaders put on the spot like this

Like many great British traditions, it isn't as old as you think. Prime minister's questions dates from 1961, and it is only since the mid-70s that it has become the freewheeling, unpredictable, bruising phenomenon we know and love.

Except that not everyone loves it. It's "like a scene from a school playground", complained a member of a focus group convened by the Hansard Society. In response to its recent critical report, the Commons Speaker, John Bercow, wrote to the three main party leaders warning of "yobbery and public school twittishness" during PMQs. At the weekend Ed Miliband said it gave people the sense that "their kids behave better than we do". Yesterday, the first session back after half-term break (rowdiness isn't the only thing that makes parliament seem like school), David Cameron welcomed the fact that Miliband had adopted a consensual style: "I thought I might miss Punch and Judy, but this is refreshing!" He wasn't being sincere.

So is PMQs really wrecking Westminster's reputation and turning people off politics? Do the shouting and roaring, the put-downs and provocation, act like fertiliser sprinkled on the ground beneath Russell Brand's feet? Should it be reformed?

When it comes to PMQs, I don't think we know we're born. Around the world millions would relish seeing their unaccountable, insulated leaders exposed to something harsher than a sycophantic press conference. Only a handful of countries make heads of government face their harshest critics, shorn of spin doctors and autocue, week in, week out. Those that do have tended to model their question times on ours – as with Japan, which adopted the practice in 1999. (Although the first question, "What did you have for breakfast this morning", probably wouldn't have troubled Bercow.) In the US, activists have set up a petition following Obama's questioning by House Republicans. "America could use more of this: an unfettered and public airing of political differences by our elected representatives," they say.

Should they be careful what they wish for? The back-and-forth of PMQs is meaningless, it is argued, a pantomime in which all policy nuance is lost. However, the careful work of parliament – drafting bills, tabling amendments – is well-served elsewhere. Being able to judge a person based on unscripted performance under pressure is important too. PMQs is where we get to know much about the character of those who would have us vote for them.

And people want to watch. PMQs is by far the most viewed activity in parliament, with the BBC's Daily Politics show normally posting its best ratings on a Wednesday, when it broadcasts the session live. We should be careful not to put too much store by the views of focus groups, where wanting to say the right thing can influence results. The Hansard Society's quantitative research shows that 40% of adults surveyed think PMQs deals with important issues facing the country (20% disagreed, with the rest noncommital); 36% believe it's informative, and only 22% think it isn't.

Of course there are problems with PMQs. Though microphones pick up mostly the main speakers for TV viewers, lots of MPs can't hear what is going on because of the overwhelming din. Planted questions represent the encroachment of scripted PR – the antithesis of PMQs at its best. And the spectacle is often grotesque: barracking, sneering, humiliation and contempt. Posh blokes throwing their weight around. Women and minorities feel intimidated.

These aspects are deeply unpleasant. But they may be the price we pay for this uniquely visible holding-to-account. And, crucially, I don't think PMQs itself is to blame (though I don't doubt there's room for a bit of procedural improvement). The real problem is with how the House of Commons looks in general. If most of your MPs went to public school, then a lively session will inevitably contain many moments of public school twittishness. If most are men, then it will likely be unfriendly to women. These problems need much larger solutions, and PMQs shouldn't become the whipping boy for them.

The last word – a compelling endorsement – can be left to Tony Blair. He described PMQs as "the most nerve-racking, discombobulating, nail-biting, bowel-moving, terror-inspiring, courage-draining experience" of his career. If this is the means by which our representatives can make the powerful squirm, then long may it continue.

Twitter: @david_shariatmadari


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