Democracy has never recovered from the invention of television. The big political meetings of the late 19th and early 20th centuries – often held in the open air – may have been top-down events in which a Gladstone or a Churchill handed down their wisdom to an admiring multitude. But the politicians could at least be booed and heckled; and, as they left the meetings, people could discuss with each other the sense of what they had heard. Contrast that with the early 21st-century political broad- cast, usually heard in snatches as prospective voters soothe babies or pour themselves another whisky. You can register a boo only by switching channels, which leaves politicians in the unfortunate position of knowing that they are unpopular but not knowing exactly why. Television, moreover, has made membership of political parties fairly pointless – except for those who plan political careers or seek favours of politicians. Policy is determined according to the day-to-day needs of media presentation, not according to party debates. Except as a way of raising money, the political party, in its traditional form, is dead.

So will the internet be better for democracy? It is hard, at first thought, to think of anything that could be more antithetical to the established political party. The parties are bound by rules, hierarchies and procedures; they are organised to a high degree. The internet has a minimum of rules and a minimum of organisation; and one person’s opinion is as good as another’s. It is hard for politicians, particularly those in power, to grasp what this means. Most MPs, councils and government departments use the internet primarily as another channel for conveying their top-down messages. Its potential as a deliberative medium remains tantalisingly out of reach. Indeed, the trouble with the internet is that like seeks like. Online communities tend to be communities of people with the same interests; and, all too often, they share the same prejudices as well, reinforcing each other’s misconceptions with further tranches of inaccurate information. Those who find themselves out of step tend to log off and join another community, or start their own.

The internet, in other words, does not easily encourage consensus, and consensus is the essence of democratic politics. Trapped in their virtual communities, users end up with no more influence, and perhaps less, than small geographical communities in the physical world – Cornish tin workers or Grimsby fishermen, say.

Politicians and community leaders should regard all this as a challenge, not as a reason for giving up on the internet. The state of our politics is too desperate to ignore a medium that is at least open to new ideas and relatively free of established interests. Our New Media Awards 2002 will be looking for “new ways to connect citizens to the world”. We need them, and quick.