School debating push makes me pity teachers - but what on earth took us so long?

Debating, we are told, will become common in most subjects under the new national curriculum. By all that's holy, what took them so long? We know young people are phone phobic. We know why. They are terrified of stringing two sentences together. They'd rather tap away with their freakishly elongated thumbs than give an unrehearsed response to a spontaneous question.

Parents and grandparents have become resigned to determinedly non-verbal 'yoof' communicating in grunts and gurns. The very idea of looking another human being squarely in the eye and engaging in anything approaching dialogue sends them into meltdown. How this conversationally stunted generation expects to thrive in any working environment except WFH in pyjamas in their mum's back bedroom is a mystery.

Debating should be front and centre of the daily classroom menu. I pity teachers. Not only will they be forced to listen to hours of stilted bilge, but demanding Socratic discourse from catatonic kids will be a horribly hard sell.

The shy will find it torture. The incoherent will flail. The inarticulate will wriggle in paroxysms of blushing embarrassment. Of course, the show-offs will shine, and the embryo stand-up comics use the opportunity to hone their future routines. Educators must, however, press on undeterred.

Debating is no different from shooting a ball through a net or playing a piece on the piano. At the outset, some are naturally skilled, others lacking but practice vastly improves every performance.

The ability to make a point clearly and concisely, argue your case without rancour, back up your statements with evidence, sprinkle the discourse with humour and dismantle your opponent's attempts to derail your flow is vital in every situation, professional and personal.

Mastering the art of debating - and, I should know, I won the school debating cup in 1975 aged 13 with an unforgettable soliloquy on the merciful charms of euthanasia - sets you up for life.

You learn to listen to views you abhor. You become adept at expounding theories you detest. Occasionally, you understand what Yeats was banging on about when he said: 'The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity' and change your mind. Rarely, you manage to change someone else's.

Let's not delay debating. It should start at five with what used to be called 'News'. We'd be called upon to relay the highlights of our weekends. We learned to embroider dull reality with epic content concocted in our own imaginations.