IN THE coverage of the suspension of the whip from four Labour MPs last week, I was saddened to see a party insider quoted as suggesting that persistent egregious behaviour was to blame — except that an expletive was used to describe it. Leaving the internal politics of the situation aside, coarse wording isn’t a charitable, thoughtful, or Christlike way of speaking about a colleague, or, indeed, another human being made in the image of God. “Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks,” as Jesus put it in Matthew 12. Malcolm Tucker, the foul-mouthed political guru in the TV series The Thick Of It, isn’t meant to be a role-model.

Lest it sound as if I am getting hung up on bad language when there are bigger issues at stake, I firmly believe that the way in which we speak about one another, and the language that we use, conveys something of how seriously we take politics and the public square. More than that, it sends a message about the acceptable tone of political debate to a general public that is already losing its trust in the integrity of political institutions.

In the same week, the Government announced that it planned to ensure that 16- and 17-year-olds would have the right to vote in the next General Election, due to be held in 2029. On the face of it, this may seem an entirely separate matter from the quest for greater civility in political discourse. Arguments for the vote for 16-year-olds have focused on the age at which young people may have to pay tax, can join the army (albeit not fight in wars), can marry, or can generally make a meaningful contribution to society. Arguments against tend towards the idea that this age group are neither mature nor informed enough to participate in electoral decision-making.

It can be argued, though, that the degree to which people in politics are seen to treat one another with respect is profoundly connected to whether young people engage or disengage with democracy. Giving the over-16s the vote has the potential to engage young people in the democratic process, but it requires politicians to understand their needs and offer policies that speak to them. It also puts the onus squarely on the political parties, in government or opposition, to conduct themselves in a manner worthy of engagement.

The Government, with its insiders, has the opportunity to set the tone for a generation of political engagement here. Democratic reform of this kind won’t go very far to raising levels of urgently needed trust in politics if it isn’t accompanied by more demonstrations of compassion and generosity between members on the same benches, let alone between Government and Opposition. That does not mean an end to passion, though. We do not want our politicians simply to offer a political version of tea and sympathy: we want them to be exercised enough to take action.

Maybe it is true that few teenagers are likely to have their vote swayed or their politics shaped for better or worse by a throwaway swear word. But, as the Government begins to set out its programme for electoral reform — through votes at 16, as well as by addressing the voter-registration gap — perhaps we might be ambitious enough to hope that it will also be accompanied by measures to promote greater civility.

Hannah Rich is director of Christians on the Left.

Paul Vallely is away.