Leaders’ Debates: The Drinking Game

I must admit that I am considerably less enthusiastic about the prospect of the leaders’ debates (and the multiple “pseudo debates” that will accompany them to keep the “minnow parties” happy) this time around than I was when it was introduced as a shiny new concept (in UK terms at least) before the last election. It’s not just that I am jaded by David Cameron’s nakedly transparent attempts to duck the debates and then giving into them (thus managing to get the worst of both worlds) or even Alistair Campbell’s brazen attempts to differentiate this from the “totally different situation” in 1997, 2001 and 2005 when Tony Blair did exactly the same ducking and diving routine.

No, the problem is that by the end of the last campaign I was starting to feel that the election had really been all about the debates and not much else (well, apart from Gordon Brown gratuitously insulting old ladies and then getting down on his belly and grovelling to them embarrassingly in a forlorn attempt to dig himself out of yet another hole). I am not altogether comfortable with this - our collective fate as a nation over the next five years should come down to more than whether Nick Clegg (or whoever) has a good night, comes up with some witty one liners and (the ultimate test of whether a man or woman is fit to be Prime Minister) blows everyone’s minds by…looking straight at the camera when answering a question (or rather, answering a slightly different question that he has prepared an answer to earlier).

Ultimately the debates are just another symptom of the increasingly presidential nature of our Parliamentary democracy. Whilst I am not sure that I necessarily yearn for the good old days when Lord Palmerston, as Foreign Secretary, would cheerfully start a war or two before breakfast without his Prime Minister being any the wiser, my real concern about moving to a presidential system is that I don’t think I could cope with having a Vice President!

Let me explain. Whilst I find American politics endlessly fascinating, I do sometimes look on with pity at our cousins across the pond when, every four years, they not only have to go through the gruelling ordeal of watching an endless succession of presidential primaries (which essentially amount to little more than beauty contests for overweight millionaires), but then, when the presidential nominees for each party are finally locked down, then have to endure months of speculation as to who those nominees will pick for Vice President from incredibly earnest commentators who are thinking about the whole question a lot more deeply than the nominees themselves are (and indeed a lot more deeply than is probably healthy). If it is a young nominee, will they pick someone older to bring experience to the ticket? If it is an older nominee, do they need to pick someone from the “next generation” to pass the baton to when the time is right. Does there need to be regional balance? Should they be picking someone from a swing state? Does the ticket lack foreign policy experience?

Then, invariably, word spreads via a flurry of texts that the presidential candidate has made his decision, the announcement is made, and the candidate walks on stage accompanied by a total plonker who no-one has ever heard of with a rictus grin utterly devoid of intelligence, and strange, staring eyes (with nothing much in between them). The candidate then solemnly announces that he has weighed up all of the considerations referred to in the paragraph above, but has ultimately decided instead to go with the total nutjob standing next to him, on the basis that he really, really doesn’t want to get shot.

Sadly, however, the trend towards presidentialism looks set to continue. It used to be the case that the Prime Minister was just the most senior of five or six “big beasts” in the cabinet at any one time. Now, thanks to the reduced number of really substantial government jobs available, due to the last Labour government splitting up the Home Office and Prime Ministers like Blair (and to some extent Cameron) deciding to run foreign affairs themselves (and largely mucking it up), it is safe to say that the big beasts have almost all left the building and Toad Hall is instead crawling with weasels running amok.

With that gloomy thought in mind, I thought I would take steps to make the whole business a little less unbearable by creating a drinking game to take the sting out of the sheer smugness, pandering and one-upmanship that these debates are likely to be characterized by. Due to the responsibilities of fatherhood I am unlikely to be able to participate in this game myself with the requisite amount of gusto, but that is no reason to stop my younger and more irresponsible readers from having a good time (hey, it’s a lot easier to fall in love with politics when there are copious quantities of booze involved!)

Disclaimer: if you take this too literally it will probably kill you!

The rules are simple – you must drink whenever:

1.  Anyone says “I agree with Nick” or “I disagree with Nick”;
 
2. Any of the leaders commit to a policy on the spot that they had not previously committed to;
 
3. Any of the leaders talk over any of the others (double measures if the interrupted leader says “Can you let me finish?”);
 
4. Anyone uses the phrase “I’ll take no lectures from…”;
 
5. Anyone describes one of the other leaders as a “lame duck” or “poodle” (double measures for “Lame Poodle”, triple for “Jemima Poodle-Duck”);
 
6. Anyone says that “war should always be the last resort” (double measures if anyone challenges this statement and says that, in fact, war should always be the first resort);
 
7.  David Cameron refers to his “long term economic plan” or the “big society";
 
8.  George Osborne is mentioned by anyone;
 
9. Anyone makes a joke about Ed Balls (double measures if it is a “balls” joke);
 
10. Anyone makes a fish joke about Nicola Sturgeon or Alex Salmond;
 
11. David Cameron refers to Ed Miliband failing to mention the deficit in his last conference speech;
12. Anyone mentions David Cameron’s futile attempts to dodge the debates;
 
13. Ed Miliband refers to the “cost of living crisis” or “broken Britain”;
 
14.  Ed Miliband uses the phrase “one nation”;
 
15. Anyone refers to Ed Miliband looking like Wallace from Wallace and Gromit (double measures if it’s Ed himself);
 
16.  Anyone refers to Ed Miliband as “David” (triple measures if it’s Ed himself);
 
17. Anyone gets anyone else’s name wrong (regardless of whether or not that person is present or absent, alive or dead);
 
18.  Anyone starts their response to a question from the audience by repeating the audience member’s name to show how “in touch” they are (double measures if they get the name wrong, triple measures if they get the gender wrong);
 
19.  Nick Clegg uses the word “fairer”;
 
20. Nick Clegg sighs or pulls his “sad panda” face when anyone disagrees with him;
 
21. Nigel Farage mentions the EU;
 
22. Any of the other leaders roll their eyes when Farage mentions the EU;
 
23. Nick Clegg claims that 3 million jobs would be lost if we left the EU;
 
24. David Cameron claims that a vote for UKIP makes a Labour government more likely;
 
25. Nigel Farage responds by using the words “Vote UKIP, get UKIP”;
 
26. Anyone uses the phrase “revolution” or “revolutionary” in a context that sounds distinctly un-revolutionary;
 
27. Natalie Bennett is not able to say what the cost of one of her policies is (or comes up with a figure that sounds dubious or made up);
 
28. Any of the leaders remind Nicola Sturgeon that the SNP lost the independence referendum;
 
29. Any of the other leaders calls Nigel Farage out for saying something offensive;
 
30.  Nigel Farage responds by claiming to be “plain speaking” or “telling it like it is”;
 
31. Nigel Farage makes a disparaging remark about Romanians;
 
32. Nicola Sturgeon or Leanne Wood say something about the English that they would probably have been terribly offended by if one of the English leaders had said it about the Scots or Welsh;
 
33. Leanne Wood says something in Welsh in an attempt to get some attention;
 
34. Natalie Bennett, Nicola Sturgeon or Leanne Wood make a snide remark about the fact that the other four leaders are male;
 
35. Any of the male leaders patronize any of the female leaders by calling them “dear”, “darling” or “love”;
 
36. Any of the other leaders accuse David Cameron (or Nigel Farage) of wanting to privatize the NHS;
 
37.  David Cameron makes a derogatory remark about the Welsh NHS;
 
38. Anyone draws a contrast between “investment” (good) and “austerity” (bad); or
 
39. Anyone tries to make a “topical” joke about a celebrity that goes down like a lead balloon.

You must finish everything in your glass if:

1. Any of the leaders resign on air;
 
2. Anyone storms out of the debate;
 
3. Anyone swears;
 
4. Anyone throws a punch;
 
5.  Any of the leaders tries to hug any of the other leaders;
 
6.  Nigel Farage lights a cigarette during the debate or comes on carrying a pint;
 
7. Nigel Farage acknowledges that a problem exists which has absolutely nothing to do with the EU or immigration;
 
8. Anyone asks Leanne Wood who she is;
 
9.  Nicola Sturgeon produces a bagpipe, seemingly from nowhere, starts playing it, and Ed Miliband starts dancing; or
 
10. Anyone turns to the person next to them and loudly asks “Sorry, did you just call me a c**t?”