Why Question Time is Failing Britain Through Performative Politics & Scripted Accountability

As the disconnect between politicians and the population grows wider, Question Time continues to trivialise legitimate public anger through a system of controlled criticism.

If, through our enlightened 21st-century eyes, gladiator fights are deemed barbaric and immoral spectacles that represent the worst of society's pursuit of hedonism, then I hate to think what future generations will make of Question Time. A programme that can only really be described as the intelligentsia’s version of a ‘rage room’, where a stag party’s kettle smashing antics are replaced by a local resident with an appropriately regional accent, attempting to interrogate the MP du jour as though he’s on a CIA black site. The whole process is extremely predictable, a topic is chosen, often broad enough to allow for a mutual understanding between both groups, yet vague enough to allow any claims to not be tangibly verified. The audience member will then repeat some poorly worded question on the topic, ideally accompanied with a shaky voice to imply a deep personal connection to the matter. The focus is then turned on the panel, who, like a primary school child at a nativity, look longingly towards the audience for any source of approval at their totally scripted response.

However, the crux of my criticism is the fact that this seems to be a totally illusory and pointless endeavour, with no outcome to speak of, and not even any pleasure in the process. Like monkeys with typewriters, if you had an infinite number of Question Time episodes, with an infinite number of electorates arguing with an infinite number of privately educated backbench conservative MPs, would this format ever become remotely enjoyable, and would anything actually get done? The answer, of course, is no. Question Time is simply a scheduled version of what we see day in and day out when politicians are forced to mingle with the general public. An interaction that often feels like the pilot of an underfunded sitcom, where everyone knows their role and is just going through the motions, waiting for their turn to repeat poorly inspired dialogue.

Despite its stated purpose, this is nothing more than regimented catharsis, a think-tank's idea of how to avoid civil unrest by allowing the electorate to share their carefully scripted grievances with those they deem most responsible. As though if only the general public could debate with their elected officials instead of setting fire to their local JD Sport, we could avoid riots altogether, and replace these with weekly televised Q&A sessions instead. It’s just such a laughably pointless process from all perspectives, that its continued viewership is a truly worrying indicator of the state of our country. It’s a propaganda engine that’s so poorly designed that it makes the North Korean approach of forcing every household to have a framed picture of a deceased ruler look quite sophisticated.

In each episode, banal questions are asked, stemming from whatever government policy has been announced that week, which by the time the episode is recorded, any remaining remotely truthful aspects of the policy will have been spun beyond recognition until it is totally redundant. The episode’s political cannon-fodder is then rolled out onto the Question Time set, trained in the art of deflection and repetition of pro-government rhetoric. Any answers given to the audience aren’t designed to inform, their intention is purely to act as a source of ammunition for future campaign slogans and debate material. The goal is to maximise the amount of future promises and opposition criticisms that can be squeezed into the 30-minute televised slot. If what is said does correlate at all with reality, then that is a bonus feature, but certainly not the objective.

Yet the robotic parliamentary appointees aren’t even the worst feature, it is the fact that this medium is used as a tick box for representing the views of the population, as though the true views of each British person have now been heard on a national stage, thanks to the carefully selected audience. This is especially heinous when opposing views are represented by non-governmental panellists whose true purpose appears to be audience sycophancy in the hope of selling more copies of their book, or getting new listeners to their podcast. They provide absolutely no value, which is impressive given the already valueless entity they are appearing on, and instead just further reinforce this farcical form of government accountability and public satiation.

It’s this aspect that turns Question Time from being a fairly dull piece of television to a potentially more malignant force. We are all familiar with how the media is used to push narratives, some that align with government policy, and some that oppose it, yet we have reached a period in time where even opposition and pushback are controlled. Even the most contentious issues that receive significant public pushback are deemed to have been quashed after 45 minutes of televised arguing, and then the news cycle moves on. This form of instant accountability gratification has meant that issues are proposed, criticised, and forgotten in weekly instalments, further fuelling the disconnect between policymakers and the electorate. Unless we develop forums that truly allow for government policy to be scrutinised by the general public, this televised kangaroo court will allow government initiatives to continue shifting further and further out of line with the best interests of the country. Like Kaczynski and technology, I too feel like Question Time and its consequences have been a disaster for the human race.