Too bad, Julie Etchingham. Trying to maintain order in the TV debate between Sunak and Starmer earlier this week was as futile as bringing decorum to a fight in the Dog and Duck car park. Keir growled, Rishi snapped, they both talked endlessly about each other – and poor Julie.
At one point, Etchingham (normally so calm that we might assume cucumber water runs through her veins) 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 been so quick to squash him 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 crushing us. But I do I think some men have an irritating tendency to talk over women, and in my experience some of the worst offenders are politicians.
Presenter Julie Etchingham tries to keep order during the Sunak vs Starmer debate on ITV this week.
From 2010 to 2015 I worked in Number 10, writing the Prime Minister’s speeches. Many times, I sat in meetings mustering 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. The assistants: three ministers and their various assistants. I arrived well-versed in everything from airport capacity to nuclear power plant upgrades. I was, as Americans say, “excited,” 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 speak? It soon became apparent that she simply didn’t give a damn. The blush of humiliation spread from the collar of my Zara suit: why don’t you slap a label on me saying I’m less important than you?
If this had happened now that I am an older, more experienced lady, I would have paused and politely asked the rent minister: ‘Is it okay if I finish my point?’ But twenty-something me was a more docile creature who obediently closed her trap, so that behavior goes unquestioned.
At another meeting, I was the only woman at a table with about ten male parliamentarians and officials. Just a few words into my musings on how we should present education reform, a parliamentarian I had never met before stopped me in my tracks: ‘Would you be an angel and take the minutes?’ Thank you…’ Although I think I noticed a flash of embarrassment 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 cabinet 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 calm. When she spoke, I winced internally as, more than once, they talked about her, forcing her to shut up.
Sometimes chronic interruption is caught on camera. In the television debates for the US vice presidency in 2020, the second most important person in the United States, Kamala Harris, was interrupted at least ten times by her opponent Mike Pence. Exasperated, she had to protest: “Sorry, I’m talking.”
The technical term for this is “chronic disruption.” The common term: “Being a jerk.” Why do they do it? Power play. Speaking above others suggests that you have a high status. Your opinions deserve more to be heard.
Male politicians in particular love the sound of their own voice; It has always been like this. More than a century ago, Princess Marie Louise (Queen Victoria’s granddaughter) dined with two giants of the British political scene.
Kamala Harris and Mike Pence clash during a US vice presidential debate in Utah in 2020, where he continually interrupted her
She recalled: “When I came out of the dining room after sitting next to Mr. Gladstone I thought I was the smartest man in England, but after I sat next to Mr. Disraeli I thought I was the smartest woman in England.” Let’s just say it’s not uncommon in today’s Parliament to encounter airtime hogs like Gladstone.
Furthermore, when politicians are surrounded by yes men and women who fawn over their every statement (as so many do), they begin to believe they know better about almost everything.
So, while gorillas demonstrate their dominance by chest-beating; Politicians demonstrate this by intervening, and men seem to find it easier to deploy this tactic against women. A 2014 American study found that men were 33 percent more likely to interrupt when talking to a woman than a man.
Perhaps this disposition is due to deep-rooted prejudices about women being less powerful.
Maybe chronic interrupters think that the ladies they’re talking to will just sit there and take it. Whatever the reason, women in the workforce need to stand up and put an end to this condescending irritation. She flashes a polite smile, takes a breath, and, in the words of Kamala Harris, repeats: “Excuse me, I’m talking.”
