Suppose They Held a Debate and Everyone Came?

In case you missed it, here's the narrative of last night's YouTube/CNN debate. Ordinary folks got to post grainy videos that beforehand were hyped as posing the sort of questions journalists never ask. Instead, the questions were either the same-old- same-old or were quirky, eccentric and marginal. It was a fun and different way to hold a debate, but not the revolutionary step that had been promised.

That is the narrative being read to us, in sonorous voices, by the mainstream media.

Here's what really happened: We saw yet another chunk of the media's role that we can do as well, and, in some important ways, better.

The traditional role of journalists in politics was created by the very nature the mass media. Since the media are mass, they're one-to-many. Therefore, we need proxies to speak for us. Because the mass media use a real-world infrastructure, air time is scarce, so the proxies have to be a special breed -- knowledgeable professionals who know what's important. They are, in fact, at least the equals of our political leaders. They certainly are not schlubs like you and me. Because air time is so precious, politicians need to be pinned down to answers that are concise, simple and definite. Politics becomes policies.

So, we get these rituals in which two sets of proxies -- the journalists and our would-be representatives -- face off, each standing in for us but each also implicitly declared to be unlike us. How do we know this? Because they get to speak and we get to listen.

Any wonder the citizenry is so alienated?

Last night was different, and more important than the media generally are letting on.

Not because now we don't need professional journalists. We do need them. Desperately. The professionals do some things very, very well. Last night was additive, not a replacement.

Not because people asked questions that had never been asked before. That was unlikely, if only because CNN chose the 1% of submitted questions that were aired.

Not because the answers were especially revelatory. The format didn't allow for the sort of conversation in which people get past their safe responses.

Last night was important because, for all its flaws, it showed the price we pay for the usual layer of professionalism.

For one thing, the professionalization of media politics turns politics into policy. But, when a gay couple asks, "Would you allow us to be married to each other?" it's not just policy any more.

For another, even the sober, serious image of the professional journalist inculcates an attitude about politics. It becomes an argument between men in suits (with an occasional woman in a pants suit allowed in). On the other hand, when a citizen with a guitar gets to ask a question, it's silly, but it also expresses some of the joy and vitality of politics. Politics is not just about us getting to raise our hand at a well-behaved town meeting. It's us in our lives, including our humor, exuberance, silliness, and flaws. Imagine, politics isn't just about the exchange of views on policy!

Last night didn't change politics forever. That change has been underway for years now. We are filling in every conceivable niche in the political ecology, from the pure bottom up to the pure top down, and every direction in and out the middle. Last night we got to see what yet another political structure might look like if the experts got out of the way occasionally. And it looked pretty damn good.

No wonder the media are telling us we should have found last night's experiment disappointing.