No debate: Liven up these forums

Over the past half-century televised debates have become an inevitable fixture of the American electoral landscape. But with this inevitability has come too much predictability, especially with regard to formats. The just-concluded mayoral debates in Boston and Monday’s Democratic senatorial debate employed a range of familiar formats, yet none proved entirely satisfying. Instead of must-see political theater, voters have been subjected to discussions that resemble the programming on a small-town cable access channel.

The problem is partly structural. The first two mayoral forums and the senatorial debate each included four participants, making it difficult for thoughtful answers and genuine interplay. Debates are most effective when they offer a sharp contrast, the kind that occurs naturally in a one-on-one match. This helps explains why general election presidential debates are usually more interesting to watch than primary debates.

Additionally, in primary debates the candidates are likely to hold similar positions on policy issues, further reducing the potential for conflict. Such was the case with the Democratic senatorial match-up, when all four of the quartet sang the same notes from the same hymnal.

What structural changes might make political debates more compelling for viewers? Perhaps the liveliest - not to mention riskiest - format is one that allows the candidates to directly engage each other, rather than relying on a moderator to channel the questions and answers. This is how presidential debates are formatted in Spain. Although direct engagement does not guarantee a robust discussion, it affords greater structural potential for exchanging views - which is precisely why American candidates have been loath to accept it.

Town hall debates, either real or virtual, offer another way of breathing life into joint candidate appearances. Because questions from voters tend to be less predictable than questions from journalists, the debaters have less opportunity to lapse into programmed rhetoric. Although the proliferation of social media makes it easier than ever to integrate the voting public into political discussions, this year’s Massachusetts debates have for the most part excluded the vox populi. This is a mistake, both politically and as a matter of programming. People enjoy hearing what their neighbors have to say, and candidates get to appear responsive to constituents.

Another idea worth trying is a single-topic debate, in which the entire conversation revolves around one issue of significance to the electorate. Such a format would force candidates to grapple more deeply with important subjects, while simultaneously doing away with superficial two-minute disquisitions on disparate topics. The traditional “lightning round’’ format encourages debaters to memorize snippets of their stump speeches to be delivered on cue. A more complex level of engagement, by contrast, would knock candidates off their sound bites.

In any debate much depends on the pre-event negotiations that take place between sponsors and campaigns. History shows that campaigns inevitably seek the most risk-minimizing rules, hoping to avoid the missteps that may lay in wait in live debates. This emphasis on candidate protection produces boring discussion. The fundamental question is: to whom do the debates belong? Campaigns claim ownership for themselves, when debates rightfully belong to the voters.

Dull debates do no favors to anyone - not to the politicians who take part, the voters who watch, or the media who cover the story. The political debaters whose performances stand the test of time - JFK, Reagan, Clinton - are also the ones who internalized the need to keep the audience engaged. Here’s hoping that the next time Massachusetts politicians gather onstage for a debate, they will remember their obligation to put on a show that is both enlightening and entertaining.

Alan Schroeder is an associate professor in the School of Journalism at Northeastern University and the author of “Presidential Debates: Fifty Years of High-Risk TV.’’