The noble art of doubt

I dither. Sometimes I think it’s what I am best at, but you won’t be surprised to know that I am not always sure. Dithering is a state of mind, of dress, of living, but it is not always a waste of time. “I dither, therefore I maybe.” as Descartes should have said.

The more I dither, the stronger I get. More people could do with understanding that. They’d live longer.

Have I ever made a major decision that has backfired on me? No. Do I come over as dogmatic and unapproachable? No. Do people still ask me questions with uncertain answers? Oh, yes. They know that if you want human iteration to choose, they need a full-blown ditherer, someone who assesses one side of a problem, looks at another side, walks round the back and takes another view before returning to the first side without making a decision, remaining unbiased.

What they now realise is that each pass around that problem informs me a little bit more, builds towards a decision, reduces uncertainty. If I take that circuit and don’t come down to a decision, I will take it again – and again if needs be. And if each cycle doesn’t give me a direction, I worry the problem until either it finally does or someone else chooses for me. And they will only do that if the decision isn’t worth making (do you want baked potato or chips – who cares?). What’s more, I can talk you through each cycle. People are always amazed at how much goes into each decision I make. The Prime Minister used to call me Panzer – his one-man think tank.

Some situations are made for expert ditherers. Macroeconomic policy practically demands it –a bit of interest rate juggling here, a tax threshold or spending cut there. Don’t tell me you thought politics was a decisive game! How can it be when every factor plays on every other and when no goal can be set that isn’t then open to robust attack and defence?

You will have guessed by now that I made my money as a stockbroker, where my approach yields enough incremental gains to sustain my filthy habit. Never dither over Cuban cigars. Always accept.

Dithering can be problematic. I can’t deny that. I don’t drive, for example. It’s not that I would be a liability to other motorists. Road safety doesn’t seem to me to be about decisions so much as about following rules and reacting to danger. No. I don’t drive because there are too many roads on this island. They go east, west, north, but ultimately all roads just lead away. My driver and secretary sort my schedules. I call them the 4D Team – masters of diaries and geography, time and space, all four dimensions.

Don’t ask me to choose between tea and coffee. I won’t care, and you’ll just get cross. The 4D Team knows this, too. It makes their life easier – another advantage of dithering, the ease with which my life completes gaps in others’, like cavity-wall foam, invisibly warming all parties.

I am expected in London tomorrow to report on my Government enquiry into the efficacy and control of supply of dietary mineral supplements. You know the results already. On the one hand a deficient diet is bad news; on an other there seem to be limits to safe daily dosages; on a third hand the supplement industry is probably less harmful than many others; and on a fourth they may just be a way to part fools from their money. As usual, I shall report on at least eight different issues for the enquiry. Eight hands - octopus or spider? You can decide that one as well.

My report uses my full panoply of tools for indecision. Venn diagrams are a good start. All those overlapping circles look neatly contained, but allow factors to be in one set, another, both or neither. Modern maths is perfect for ditherers. Matrices ply the same trade – faceless grids of numbers that disguise their relative values, probabilities, uncertainties. And mind maps. Oh, I love mind maps. Start from a core and work out until we run out of paper – inclusive, organic, memorable but unlimited.

I expect to be a great success. I have been before, at least if you measure that by public honours and accumulated wealth. I expect to present a balanced, forward-looking report, with plenty of recommendations, each of which could be taken in several ways. My news conference will be a classic of the art. They usually are. The Press will think of me as an old buffoon until they realise that I am giving them precisely what they want – a licence to write anything they bally well choose in the sure knowledge that they won’t be wrong.

So, remember the power of a dithering cross-bencher. When you hear the Tories spout on about the importance of choice, I, the ditherer, win. Choice plays into my hands. When you hear Labour talk about the third way, that’s a ditherer’s delight. And as for the Lib Dem’s squeaking about a balanced government agenda. I don’t just share it, I am it! My England truly is a green and indecisive land, with me as the king of the don’t knows.