By Dario Battisti

The more vigilant and television-oriented among us may have noticed that novelty calculator Carol Vorderman has been gracing our screens once more. Grasping for arbitrarily selected vowels and consonants, her eyes glazed over as she ploddingly read out large bold text printed on card placed in front of her, attempting to sound spontaneous in the desperate rush to mentally reassemble this mess of letters into some form of cogent verbiage. Sadly, I am not referring to a triumphant return to the stubbornly persistent Countdown format, but rather, her woeful performance on a recent BBC broadcast of Question Time.

In what was a display of staggering inanity, Vorderman treated fellow panelists, studio audience, and viewers alike to a barrage of populist platitudes and indignant yelps so vacuous that even Boris Johnson appeared reasonable and articulate by comparison. These reactionary theatrics have already been commented upon elsewhere, and were summed up particularly well in this New Statesman article noting that:

The key example was with the Jon Venables affair, on which she was the only panel member to insist not only that Jamie Bulger’s parents have a “right” to know what Venables has done to go back into prison, but that the public does, too. She could not answer why, and it became clear that her desire was based on: a) ignorance, b) crude populism and c) nosiness.

It is not her revealing statements on Jon Venables, however, for which the Bad Argument prize in this instance is to be offered. It is another statement which I wish to focus on; a cynical mantra which is trotted out time and time again in our disillusioned age.

Namely, this:

[Politicians] are all as bad as each other!

In the context itself, this is a bizarre thing for Mrs Vorderman to say, in lieu of the fact that she has been recruited by David Cameron to be the Tory adviser on maths education, as well as her previous involvement in a maths promotion campaign under Blair’s government. How are we to interpret this discrepancy between stated views and actions? Are we to believe that in her quest for computer-like mathematical accuracy, she has had her brain digitized, and can now only make distinctions in binary 1s and 0s? Have the associations with both Blair and Cameron, who come across as different from one another as chalk and a slightly lighter shade of chalk, impaired her capability to distinguish between anyone else? Whatever the truth, it would be far too audacious to suggest that this remark was not so much a genuine belief as it was a crude effort to produce a quick sound-bite; a lazy observation serving only to pander to the audience. Kindly post your answers to this conundrum: I’m truly baffled.

What is most lamentable about this sentiment, though, is the extent of its popularity among the wider public. Now, I have no trouble in believing that there might well be plenty of people in politics who are less than honest in their conduct and even in their motives. This seems inevitable. But while it is one thing to accept such a regrettable scenario, it is quite another to make the sudden leap into believing that every single politician must be corrupt to this degree—and just so by virtue of the very fact that they are engaged in politics.

The accusation that “all politicians are as bad as each other” lends itself wholly to an absolutist black-and-white worldview, when in politics, ambiguity and uncertainty abound. Saying “they are all as bad as each other” contributes nothing to serious political discussion, and is often nothing more than an excuse to ignore any in-depth discussion of the complex issues involved therein. Issues which demand a more nuanced perspective than that afforded to us by this dismissive oversimplification.

What such cynical caricaturing contributes to instead, is merely politicians’ unenviable position of being berated no matter what they do. Should a politician make an announcement which is not entirely in keeping with public opinion, we accuse them of not paying attention to those they are supposed to serve. Conversely, when making announcements tailored specifically to our explicit demands, we accuse them of manipulation, of only telling us what we want to hear. With this in mind, one can hardly be surprised when spin and empty rhetoric prevail above all else. They provide the path of least resistance.

Still, contrary to the accusation of politicians being ‘all the same’, we clearly have no difficulty in distinguishing between sets of politicians. Seriously, how often do you confuse the Green Party with UKIP? Can you tell the difference between, say, Tony Benn and Margaret Thatcher, or, between George Galloway and David Milliband?

More to the point, can Carol Vorderman?

There may be a silver lining to this Question Time debacle, of sorts. In opening the door for one bad argument, Vorderman has helped to close the door on another, albeit unwittingly. Indeed, her performance strongly discourages one from succumbing to the flawed perception that being able to do sums alone (likewise being able to memorise trivia) is itself indicative of a profound intellect across the board. That Carol Vorderman is good at maths is not in itself a marker of wisdom, in the same way that Neil Buchanan’s skills with papier mâché do not earn him a reputation as a Renaissance man.

Mrs Vorderman’s prize, should she wish to accept it? Why, that would be Numberwang! the board game, modelled on everyone’s actual favourite number-based game show! Hopefully the amount of time spent reading up on the extensive Numberwang rules will replace the time spent on indulging that far more irritating pastime of hers: talking.

EDITOR’S NOTE: In the unlikely event that Carol would like to claim a prize we actually do have a copy of Machiavelli’s The Prince. So she can brush up on her politik.

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• Bad Argument of the Week IX
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• Bad Argument of the Week XXIII