I CAN STILL see it now — my pen — arcing through the air, crossing the committee room in the House of Commons, flying over David Steel’s shoulder and coming to rest after hitting the far wall.

That’ll teach me not to stick my pen in my mouth and start twanging it, I thought. Wrong lesson. The real message was: “Don’t sit in long, boring manifesto meetings with a bunch of Liberals.”

This all happened 20 years ago, when I was in my early twenties and Ming Campbell wasn’t. I sat on the policy committee of the Social Democratic Party and was, therefore, among those charged with negotiating the text of the Alliance election manifesto.

Anyway, when I think of those meetings I find myself wishing Clare Short was there. You might think this an eccentric desire, and it is certainly not a sentiment I feel all that often, but I can explain. It’s not that I think that Ms Short would have improved the meetings, it’s more that I think the meetings would have improved Ms Short.

Last week, rather bravely, the former International Development Secretary announced that she would not be standing again as a Labour candidate. Her reasons? Disillusion with her Party, falling out of love with Gordon Brown and a belief that the best way to rescue the reputation of politicians is through a hung parliament.

I can’t help her with the first couple of points. It amazes me how long it took her to realise that Gordon Brown does not share her politics. But I do have a couple of points about her desire for a hung parliament that she might like to think about.

A small but important one is that it is, of course, impossible to campaign for a hung parliament. I don’t want to get stuck on this for too long, but what exactly does Ms Short want voters to do? Unless you know how everyone else is going to vote, how do you know which candidate to support? The Labour Chief Whip told Ms Short that she wasn’t allowed to advocate a hung Parliament because that meant advocating fewer Labour MPs. I rather suspect that by the next election, if you want a hung parliament you will be advocating more Labour MPs.

But, as I say, let’s not get stuck on this. The real issue to be considered is whether Ms Short is right to argue that a hung parliament will help politicians and people to reconnect. And I don’t believe that she is.

Once upon a time, however, I did. Leaving aside all questions of fairness, I was convinced that the electoral outcomes produced by proportional representation — essentially perpetual hung parliaments — would lead to a new, more attractive type of politics. There would be more co-operation and a greater spirit of compromise. I know, I know, but I did think that.

Two experiences changed my mind. The first was the one I’ve already told you about. The tetchy SDP-Liberal manifesto discussions were not exactly an advert for the new politics. Instead of reconnecting politicians with people, the main result was to put already moderate policy ideas into a blender until they emerged smooth and pointless. As for the new spirit of co-operation, I do not think this would be an accurate description of the personal relationship between the main players by the time the Alliance experiment was concluded.

My other experience of government without a majority came when I worked for John Major in the final couple of years of Tory rule. A number of adjectives come to mind to describe the politics of that era, but attractive isn’t one of them. When the ordeal was over we all felt as though we had been connected to the mains rather than to the electorate.

I don’t suppose you’ll have to rely on my word on this for long, since a hung parliament seems a likely outcome of the next election. Remarkably, the Liberal Democrats in Brighton have not yet been subjected to much questioning on their attitude. What would they do? A hung parliament is their great dream. Should it happen, however, I suspect even their own divisions about who to back will quickly deal with the idea that a new era of co-operation has begun.

But if I’m right, what then? Clare Short is quite correct to believe that politicians and voters have drifted dangerously far apart. I believe that her mistake is to seek a structural solution. She’s hardly alone. Almost every week comes a pamphlet, report or campaign designed to revive the political process. Some of the ideas — for more decentralised government, or more referendums — I rather agree with. But I don’t think they are any more likely to succeed in increasing respect for politicians than is Ms Short’s proposal.

For the problem lies not in structures but in political behaviour. And a large part of the problem of behaviour of politicians comes from lacking the courage to choose between competing and inconsistent voter demands.

Voters and the media ask parties for total unity and want MPs to be completely authentic. Politicians are simultaneously expected to say exactly the same thing as every other member of their party and to be true to themselves. This is obviously impossible.

The results are painful interviews in which politicians lamely try to defend things they don’t agree with, and are excoriated if they slip up and reveal that they don’t completely concur with a colleague. Careful but unconvincing formulas are constructed to keep everyone together. Bridging the unbridgeable contradiction between unity and authenticity has turned politics into an elaborate game for insiders. Politicians must choose, and they must choose honesty.

And if they are going to choose honesty they may as well start here — it is time to tell voters that they expect too much. We still, despite all the evidence to the contrary, demand a solution to everything from our political system, and quickly. We set politicians tasks they are bound to fail and hate them for failing. We find it difficult to accept that all we can expect from fallible human beings is a little slow progress along the path.

So, forget hung parliaments, Clare. Just remember: remain honest, accept your limits and don’t twang your pen.

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