杏吧原创

New eyes for an old Mother

Technology could brighten up the dullest days in Parliament

I HAD one of those 鈥淒id I really hear that?鈥 experiences recently, the sort that makes the brain do an instant double-take and pay attention. Memorable examples include Britain鈥檚 former health minister Edwina Currie saying on national radio that, unlike humans, 鈥渁ttack dogs don鈥檛 have DNA鈥, or author Fay Weldon telling us that science is 鈥渂ad for the soul鈥. The latest one came from that paragon (normally) of common sense, the Speaker of the House of Commons.

For non-British readers, a few words of explanation. The Westminster Parliament, or at least the lower house, known somewhat patronisingly as the Commons, operates by virtue of Members of Parliament being invited to say their piece by the Speaker, that member having 鈥渃aught the Speaker鈥檚 eye鈥. This is achieved in various ways, chiefly by an MP letting the Speaker know beforehand that he or she wishes to speak, or by members standing up, or, on occasions, and I鈥檓 not inventing this, putting on a collapsible top-hat brought for the purpose. Members refer to other MPs not by name, but by a variety of formulas, such as 鈥渢he Honourable Member for Chorlton-cum-Hardy鈥 or 鈥渢he Honourable Lady鈥 or 鈥渕y Right Honourable friend鈥 (if they鈥檙e on the same side) or some similar usage. The whole emphasis is on politeness. Likewise, no MP is ever allowed to accuse another of lying: 鈥渇abricating terminological inexactitudes鈥 or 鈥渂eing economical with the facts鈥 are two favourite ways round this. The Government and Opposition benches are more than two sword-lengths apart to prevent fatalities. Such is the Mother of Parliaments, the model and creator of many other parliaments.

The key to all this is how much respect the Speaker can command. For the first time ever, the office is held by a female, and a redoubtable one at that, the universally respected Right Honourable Betty Boothroyd, the parliamentary representative for West Bromwich West. She controls debates and sets the tenor for the world鈥檚 most sophisticated debating process. Still with me? Good.

Recently, one of her playgroup had the temerity to hold up a graph or chart of some sort while dilating on a point of interest, and got right-honourably ticked off for it. 鈥淭he Hon Gentleman should be articulate enough to do without visual aids,鈥 she ruled, or words to that effect.

But why? One of the things which has always struck me as anachronistic, nay, archaic about the legislative assemblies of the late 20th century, is that they do not use visual aids. Parliamentarians, senators, deputies and their like have to listen 鈥 just listen 鈥 to each other, without the benefit of visual stimulus other than the sight of the member currently upright and the television monitors which they use to check that they are in the shot just in case their constituents are watching.

But how much better it would be if MPs could use the full range of presentation technology available. The Hon Member for Dribblethwaite, or the Minister for Welsh Cricket Pitches could, using her infrared handset, call up images on the end-of-chamber screen from a file she had previously loaded onto the central database. The Chancellor of the Exchequer could illuminate (and, let鈥檚 face it, cheer up) any Budget speech by reference to histograms, line graphs and pie charts showing the full measure of his beneficence, and in 256 colours. The Opposition could grab those images, run them through their party computer (like the one bought by Ken Livingstone, Labour representative for Brent East, using the money he made on TV cheese commercials) and represent them in a different light (鈥淚s the Rt Hon Gentleman aware that if he makes his y-axis linear instead of logarithmic, the Public Sector Borrowing Requirement is off the end of the scale?鈥). Backbenchers would be able to sit with their laptops composing the bullet points of the intervention they are about to make and flashing them up on the screen so that everybody gets the message. Records could be published as hypertext.

Even better, with fully-networked terminals, conferencing and video capture, our legislators would never have to attend Parliament at all, but could sit in carrels in their constituencies, watching, hearing and contributing to debates and select committee sessions, registering their votes electronically when asked. No more silliness, as we have in Britain, about tellers counting heads passing through lobbies, like so many sheep. The Speaker could simply consult the displayed bar charts and announce: 鈥淭he ayes have it.鈥 And indeed the eyes would have it. Members could even register their votes beforehand, like forward-buy calls on the stock market, since they all know how they鈥檙e going to vote anyway. As if anyone was swayed by the logic of reasoned argument anyway. Not that this proposed system does away with the cut-and-thrust of debate, it simply moves it to a higher plane where pretty words are combined with, and reinforced by, prettier pictures.

But instead, the convenient fiction is maintained that information is all about verbal articulation and that no picture is worth any words. The strange thing is, every politician knows about the power of the diagram. Those who operate a second string in the commercial environment would no more consider making a business presentation without visuals than run naked through the Lobby.

This system would have the additional benefit of creating new jobs. Legislators wouldn鈥檛 just consult 鈥渞esearchers鈥, employ 鈥渟pin doctors鈥 and hire 鈥渟tyle consultants鈥. They would need technically adept and visually literate computer graphics jockeys with the requisite arithmetic skills. Watch the sudden increase in spending on the software industry, cash for computers in schools and a re-emphasis on the maths curriculum. The icon-to-word ratio would skyrocket and we would have far less silliness about how our children are being turned into square-eyed joystick junkies. At least the kids know how to do it.

Instead of which we have Godwottery, humbug and a refusal to join the 20th century. Which is rather like saying to Michel-angelo 鈥淒on鈥檛 bother painting the Sistine Chapel. Just tell me about it.鈥

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