IT WASN'T ABOUT BANANA MILKSHAKE

I just watched a full on broadcast debate from years ago. Two speakers for; two against the motion. Let's say it's "Banana is the best flavoured milkshake". Typically the speakers would be notable experts in the field, or opinionated individuals who have some sort of stake in either side of the discussion.

Two thousand people in the audience, one neutral moderator, no real politics - just purely polite, reasoned, intelligent debate.

Here's how it works:

The audience vote at the start, just before the debate begins. Is banana the best flavour? Yes, or no?

Then each speaker has exactly 10 minutes to make their case. Bananas are awesome. Other flavours are evil. Actually hardly anyone likes bananas, look at the statistics. Strawberries for the win. Put your bananas away. The idea is that it's balanced, fair and eloquent. There are no interruptions (though there was some applause) and no comments until all the speakers have used their 10 minutes. 

Once done, the audience then get a chance to ask questions. Being an audience of humans of course, most of them wanted to score points instead of ask anything, but the moderator briskly got them through it.

The speakers answer each question as well as they can, while the moderator tries to balance that tricky section. Then the audience is asked to vote once again, and the moderator reads out the final result to see whether anyone has changed their mind about banana milkshakes, and in which direction.

We tried it once in Sixth Form. That was my memory, and I don't think we did it anywhere near as well. I remember being on a panel, trying to talk about a very controversial subject without being fully aware that it was extremely poignant to several people in the room. I was young and naive - I had zeal, conviction, passion and not-quite-enough-knowledge; but I had very little wisdom and perhaps even less empathy. I was picked to pieces, demolished in a roomful of peers and shouted into humiliation. Our deputy head of sixth form didn't really know how to moderate the debate that day, as I recall.

But tonight, I looked on at the 'banana milkshake' debate with a little envy. I'd have loved to have had another go. Perhaps with some preparation, some understanding of what would come flying my way, I'd have become much better at it. Perhaps I would have enjoyed it the second time? It does seem to involve a whole bunch of skills I think I might be okay at these days: research, writing, delivery, presentation, coverage, creativity, conviction, empathy, kindness. Maybe even some wisdom acquired since I was 16 - you never know.

But we never did it again. And I was under so much fire from the first emotive debate, I might not have wanted to sign up for more. I wasn't inflamed by the idea that debate might actually be able to help influence opinions, that voices engaged in argument might actually change the world. I had no idea that this exactly how parliament is supposed to work. I was 16.

Nowadays, ordinary debate happens in microcosms - tiny conversations buried in the comments on social media. It happens in snippeted conversations, or email exchanges, or WhatsApps. The disagreeables fire back until one unfriends the other, or likes everything.

Then all you're left with is people who think like you do - and that's just like our banana milkshake audience, raising a hand to make a point about what they think, to back you up - but actually adding nothing. Where are the questions in the echo chamber?

Well anyway, the motion against banana managed to swing the audience a massive 34% to their opinion. You could call that a win. The moderator thanked everybody, then they all went home.

I wonder why we don't do more formal debating? There's no doubt at all that we're just as opinionated as ever, if not more than ever, actually. But it's that swing that interests me - how did so many people, 34% of 2000 people, go home, having actually changed their minds? Were they thinking about some of the more subtle, nuanced cases they might have previously dismissed? If that debate happened now, would most people be so entrenched, so wedged into this post-truth era, that they simply wouldn't budge their opinions at all?

Or do we live in a world now where everyone's been given a megaphone, and with the greatest double irony as we sit here quietly raging behind our keyboards... none of us can actually hear each other over all the noise?

Well I don't know. And that's okay, but it's on that point, I think it might be prudent if I stop talking.