Koen Lemmens is professor of public law at KU Leuven.
“Where has the generous smile gone today?” Wim Sonneveld already wondered in the 1970s. It reminded me of that ‘Emsie Kensie’ video. In a parliamentary intervention, a member of parliament from Vlaams Belang had pronounced the name of the consultancy firm McKinsey several times in his own unique way as ‘Emsie Kensie’. Much to the delight of Twitter, which was happy to show images of the intervention. But the question soon arose whether it was the right thing to laugh about it.
Sure, I thought at first, why not? Slips of the tongue can be laughable and silly funny. It must be puberty to burst out laughing – but cherish the adolescent in yourself a little, thinks this midlifer meanwhile. Moreover, it is not the case that some jokes about a slip of the tongue are in se vilein: it is usually not much more than some innocent teasing. Add to that the fact that this is a member of parliament. We know that politicians in a democracy have to endure more criticism than ordinary citizens anyway, which means, among other things, that they have to accept being the object of satire and sometimes caustic humour.
Finally, let’s not touch each other Liesbe teeha name, the MP militates at a party that, to put it mildly, has not exactly made its trademark of bandaged and empathetic communication. What should one hold back then? By the way, did we not have a good laugh with Pieter De Crem, who at the time warned us with the best of intentions about the dangers of faaising (phishing, red.)? A satirical program like Everything can be better lived off scenes like this. Well then!
But there are two considerations that, after the spontaneous laughter died down a bit, still prompted me to temper my initial fun. In this case, first of all, there is something distinctly elitist about the mockery. While McKinsey is a well-known consultancy firm in the world of management, consulting and government, we are sure outside of those bubbles everyone right away? The member of parliament has a past as a postman, so you may be less familiar with the environment of providing advice. I confess with red cheeks that as a student, when I knew nothing about consulting, I started another consulting company in French Delwatte mentioned and not in his English Dialoot. How to pronounce the Touche associated with that name was completely unclear to me, although that was less bad, because I didn’t have it anyway.
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In fact, we should ask ourselves what we are laughing at. Is it merely the unorthodox pronunciation of a name or rather the ignorance of it? If it’s the former, then we laugh at the slip of the tongue. But if it is the second, then we are mainly laughing at a person. If this was not a slip-up, as we all do, but a lack of knowledge, then we must agree with Tom Lanoye The appointment wonder whether the research department of the party (and in our country parties are very richly subsidized) did its job. No one can know and know everything, not even members of parliament. But you can expect them to be sufficiently informed about the subject matter they are intervening on. That is not just a matter for the individual Member of Parliament. Here comes a whole framework in sight.
A second point makes me hesitate. A slip of the tongue, all well and good, not paying attention during the debate or a lack of specific knowledge, it’s not that bad at this point. Maybe it’s a bit childish to laugh, maybe it’s not chic to mock. But the question is also whether it is strategically wise. Then I think we have to be realistic: it is not. Few reflect the socio-economic elite quite like large consulting firms. Immediately the image of the proverbial glitzy boys with their Gordon Gekko image emerges (character from the movie ‘Wall Street’ (1987), ed.). Few incarnate the socio-cultural beau monde like the fancy, English management jargon. In a climate where populists constantly pit ‘the people’ against ‘the elite’, it will be a breeze to portray this insignificant incident as the confirmation of the disdain of the ‘fat-necks in Brussels’ for the common man. Not sure who will have the last laugh here.
(And by the way, the red wine you’re drinking later, that’s Chianti, with a k.)
