Too bad Julie Etchingham. Trying to keep order in the TV debate between Sunak and Starmer earlier this week was as futile as bringing decorum to a brawl in the Dog and Duck car park. Keir snapped, Rishi snapped, both talked endlessly about each other – and about poor Julie.
At one point, Etchingham – normally so cool we might assume her veins were running with cucumber water – was forced to cry: ‘Please, sir! We will lower our voices…’ Unfortunately, the referee had lost control of the match.
If the debate had been hosted by a male TV presenter, would Sunak and Starmer have taken him down so quickly mid-sentence? Doubtful.
Look, I’m not one of those women who takes sexist offense at every possible opportunity. I don’t think “the patriarchy” is grinding us down. But I Doing I think some men have an annoying tendency to talk about women – and in my experience, politicians are some of the worst offenders.
Presenter Julie Etchingham tries to keep order during the Sunak vs Starmer debate on ITV this week
From 2010 to 2015 I worked at Number 10, writing the Prime Minister’s speeches. Many times I sat in meetings trying to work up the courage to say something in front of very important people, only to have my comments crushed by a verbal avalanche from a male colleague.
I remember one particularly important meeting. The topic: an upcoming speech on infrastructure. Those present: three ministers and their various assistants. I came in knowing everything from airport capacity to nuclear power plant upgrades. I was, as Americans say, ‘pumped up’, but over the next hour I slowly deflated as one of the ministers interrupted me again and again.
I looked at his ears, searching in vain for a hearing aid: couldn’t he hear me talking? It quickly became clear that he didn’t care. The blush of humiliation spread from the collar of my Zara suit: why don’t I just stick a label on me saying I’m of less importance than you?
Now if this had happened, I am a lady of more advanced years and experience, I would have paused for a moment and kindly asked the Minister, ‘Is it okay if I finish my point?’ But the twenty-something I was was a meek creature who obediently closed her trap, and so such behavior goes unchallenged.
At another meeting, I was the only woman sitting around a table with about ten male parliamentarians and civil servants. Just a few words into my considered thoughts on how we should present the education reform, an MP I had not met before stopped me in my tracks: ‘Would you be an angel and take the minutes? Thank you…” While I think I saw glimpses of shame on the faces of some of the men – especially those younger than me – none of them spoke out against the blatant sexism.
While these experiences may not be surprising for a 20-something speechwriter, it is more shocking when high-powered female politicians receive the same treatment. I once attended a meeting with several ministers, including the then Home Secretary Theresa May. While her male colleagues filled every corner of the room with their 70-decibel opinions, May was silent. When she said something, I cringed internally as she was talked about – more than once – forcing her to walk away.
Sometimes the chronic interruption is captured on camera. In the 2020 US vice-presidential TV debates, America’s second most important person Kamala Harris was interrupted no fewer than ten times by her opponent Mike Pence. Annoyed, she had to protest, “Excuse me, I’m speaking.”
The technical term for this is ‘chronic interruption’. The layman’s term: “Being a jerk.” Why do they do it? Power play. Talking about others suggests that you have a high status. Your opinion deserves to be heard more.
Male politicians in particular often like the sound of their own voice; it has always been that way. More than a century ago, Princess Marie Louise (a granddaughter of Queen Victoria) dined with two giants of the British political scene.
Kamala Harris and Mike Pence clash during a 2020 US vice presidential debate in Utah – during which he kept interrupting her
She recalled: ‘When I left the dining room after sitting next to Mr. Gladstone I thought he was the smartest man in England, but after sitting next to Mr. Disraeli I thought I was the smartest woman in England.’ Let’s just say that in today’s Parliament it is not uncommon to encounter airtime wasters like Gladstone.
And when politicians are surrounded by yes-men and women who scrutinize every statement (as are so many), they begin to believe that they know best about almost everything.
So while gorillas demonstrate their dominance by chest drumming; politicians demonstrate this by intervening – and men seem to find it easier to use this tactic on women. A 2014 American study found that men interrupt 33 percent more often when talking to a woman than to a man.
Perhaps this willingness stems from long-standing prejudices that women are less powerful.
Maybe the chronic interrupters think the little ladies they talk about will just sit there and take it. Whatever the reason, women in the working world need to rise up and put an end to this condescending irritation. Put on a polite smile, take a deep breath, and repeat, in the words of Kamala Harris, “Excuse me, I’m speaking.”