The homely feeling of remote control

Gone was the red-curtained backdrop of the Beau Sejour theatre, to be replaced by oak-beamed ceilings, granite lintels, attic rooms and family photographs.

In many ways it added to the Guernsey Together spirit of the occasion. Like so many islanders, public figures such as the Chief Minister and the States chief executive were hunkered down in their homes doing their best to communicate and function normally.

It was a scene familiar to thousands of islanders, some of whom have been in a version of home working since March last year.

People know all too well the trials of Zoom/Team chats, the awkwardness of long pauses, the infuriating determination of the wifi system to stop functioning at the crucial moment, leaving the speaker rictus frozen in time.

Even the least techno-literate have got more proficient with the concept over time. We now know better than to all talk at once, waiting instead for that momentary pause before butting in.

And we understand the importance of setting up the camera so it is not pointing up nostrils or capturing only the bottom of chins.

But still there are still times, as the panel did yesterday, when we forget to unmute and waste seconds mouthing in silence at an unforgiving screen. And not everybody has the skills of an Oscar-winning sound and lighting engineer.

But at least there were none of those moments when the children burst in with exciting news or the dog starts barking just as the boss is finishing delivering the quarterly round-up figures.

Nevertheless, if Lockdown I taught us anything, it is that electronic communication can only go so far. For the depth, breadth and quality of conversation that nurtures good work and business relationships people need to be in the same room, observing body language and able to relax into the rhythms of chit-chat and repartee.

In lockdown, however, we are all safer on remote control.