Why can't the presidential election be more like The X-Factor?

IT’S FINALLY back on our screens. The long wait is over. Admit it, it’s your guilty pleasure. What’s not to like? There’s the nerve-jangling pre-audition, the earnest expressions of hope for success, the tear-jerking backstories of triumph over adversity. And then, to top it off, the drama of a contestant’s success or failure based solely on the whim of an arbitrary judge.

Yes, the presidential election is with us again. And not a moment too soon. If the dirty tricks and ego clashes of the last contest are anything to go by, this contest is shaping up to be a classic.

Where else but Ireland could we offer up as candidates a terrorist turned good guy, an eccentric James Joyce enthusiast, an inner-city street fighter, a 1970s talent-contest winner and that inoffensive woman who, as the slogan on a spoofed photo of her campaign bus put it, is “not a killer or Dana”.

And yet people are unmoved. They bleat on about how the nomination process is outdated and in need of reform. They whine about the vacuous election slogans. Why, declaimed one, should the chair of a random county council decide the fate of a candidate in a national election? Okay, okay, maybe they have a point. If the level of public engagement is anything to go by, turnout at the polls will be ludicrously low. Chances are that vastly more people will be casting their votes for the glut of reality competitions dominating the television schedules this weekend.

Clearly this TV genre contains something powerful. Concealed within its DNA must be a set of common traits that compels viewers to sit, trance-like, through hours of often vacuous and mind- numbing telly. And whatever that is, we need to bottle it.

It's time to examine what The X Factorcan teach the presidential election. To save the public the expense of a lengthy ad-hoc Oireachtas taskforce report into this, I am happy to assist. Based on in-depth research of last weekend's programme, here are some humble suggestions on how to radically reform the election.

A shorter pre-audition processInstead of endless touring of county councils, candidates should audition before a celebrity panel of judges, who can filter out the average ones and select merely the "good" and "awful" candidates. After a nervous wait for the verdict, successful candidates would rush out to their bands of supporters, shouting, "I got through!" to bear hugs and high fives.

Ritual humiliationIt is important to find a delusional and talentless participant among the masses, shove them on a stage and watch them melt down in front of the sniggering panel. Of course, it's not exploitation. They made the decision to enter the presidential race, after all.

A subtlety-free zoneThe viewing audience should be given little or no credit for being able to recognise talent among our candidates. These attributes should be announced with syrupy music and close-ups of judges either gasping in restrained awe or snorting with derision.

A panto villain on the panelA Simon Cowell-type character could add some spice – perhaps Vincent Browne, Eamon Dunphy or George Hook. Hey, why not all three? And one will be obliged at some point to cast out a stop-the- music hand in disgust, only for our hapless candidate to pull it out of the bag at the second attempt.

Some readers will claim these are tawdry moves to liven up the sanctity of the democratic process. They may even cite provisions of Bunreacht na hÉireann that were framed to ensure only eminent persons should seek to occupy Áras an Uachtaráin. But to those critics I blow an enormous raspberry.

The similarities between The X Factorand politics are too close for comfort. One is a process where hopeful, talented, individualists are taken over by their handlers and gradually turned into bland shadows of their former selves. The other is a TV karaoke show.

After all, what is the presidency at the end of the day? It’s an office precluded from making policy announcements or expressing significant opinions unless it has the approval of the government. Its main purpose, seemingly, is to express positive national mood music without the messy business of having to deal with tough decisions. In essence, it’s about being popular.

The result is a presidency as anodyne as any middle-of-the-road R&B number produced by an X-Factor winner. Sure, reality-TV competitions aren’t everyone’s idea of a great night in, but at least they engage the public. We can’t say that about our presidential election process. It’s time to change the system. Otherwise it simply lacks the, er, X-factor.

Shane Hegarty is on leave