A debate might have been revealing. I'd like to have seen one.

AFTER THE "LAST DEBATE" LAST last night, I'm still yet to see the first.

That's because we seem to have forgotten what a debate is, how it's structured, how to ensure that one party doesn't continually talk over another party ...

A debate is an event in which participants address the issues and each other, moderated only a person holding a bell. Or an alarm clock. And certainly not a clipboard full of their own questions. 

They don't need to ask their own questions, or to challenge the speaker, because that's what the other speaker is supposed to do -- when they are given their time to do that. And they know their time will come, and they need to be prepared. (Each proper debate has a given time for rebuttal, starting and finishing by that bell.)

In a real debate, all that a good moderator says is things like "fifteen seconds to go," or "time's up." And the candidates themselves get to challenge each other, and we see whether or not they're able to, instead of the fellow with the clipboard trying to do it for them.

Sure, the moderator can set the topic, perhaps saying it's about health, or cost of living increases; and they can even show some figures and give some context. But after that, a moderator should wind up his alarm clock, or prime his bell, because he knows he's not involved. He's not on stage himself. Because this is a debate, not an interview. (And, yes, candidates can talk over the bell, but then it becomes obvious to everyone, including themselves, that they're an arsehole.)

LET'S SAY THAT AGAIN IN case you missed it: A debate is not an interview, which is what we had last night, and have had for the last several weeks: a two-headed or multi-headed interview conducted by a lacklustre over-talking interviewer who too often confuses himself (or herself) for a participant, perpetually injecting themselves into the discussion and too rarely allowing any actual debate to continue. 

It's not a debate. It's an unscripted two-way interview with pre-coached leaders doing their best to say nothing of any substance. 

An un-debate. 

A kind of managed “reality television” in which important issues are safely ignored in favour of the hype, fluff, bluster and insults which are breathlessly reported as evidence that one one of the candidates "won," and the others were looking "tired." (As if it matters how things are said rather than what they were trying to say, if anything.) 

That's why the debaters' lecterns are set up to face the "interviewer," instead of each other, with that interviewer often framed in the foreground, and in the middle of shot.

And so we learn about as much from the interview as we do from every interview over which the over-talking fellow (or fellow-ess) presides.

Oddly enough, the only election debates I've seen that came close to being genuine debates (as in: I'll start the clock and you each have one minute to speak) are the Tamaki and Mt Albert electoral debates hosted by 95bFM. bFM's moderators know more about allowing debate than the so-called professional broadcasters (if indeed that's a label befitting Mr Gower). 

A debate, an actual debate, gives us some idea of opponents' ability to choose their topics, to focus their attacks, to challenge their opponents' flaws or errors -- and something about their character which, in an election in which most policy is "me-too!" is about all you have as a point of difference. 

A debate is not an interview. I'd like to have seen one. It might have been fun -- and even revealing.