Why do I refuse to address guests on my show as sir?

This question took me back two decades, to an interview with David Waddington, who later became British Home Secretary. In 1983 he was Mrs Thatcher’s Minister of State for Immigration. This was going to be my first major high-level political interview. Samir Shah, now president of BBCwas the producer of Eyewitness, the TV show I worked on, and my boss.

“Remember Karan,” Samir advised as we headed towards the studio. “Either you call him Mr. Waddington, or minister, but not sir.” The reason was simple. Sir, as we understand it in British English, is deferential. This would put Waddington on a pedestal, above the interviewer. Yet the assumption (or is it an illusion?) of a political interview is that the interviewer and the interviewee are equals. This gives the former the right to probe and differ. This also ensures that you don’t hesitate to interrupt or ask cross-questions if necessary.

The interview focused on changes to UK immigration rules that had disadvantaged the Asian community. This was bound to become tense, even difficult. Waddington’s answers were unlikely to satisfy my questions. Samir was therefore concerned that my approach would weaken – even in terms of impression – my ability to question firmly. So, “sir” was out.

Since then, it has become my golden rule. Whenever I interview people in positions of authority — whether ministers, MPs, industrialists, bureaucrats or dignitaries of special status — I call them Mr., Mrs. or Mrs. S ‘they are part of the government, I call them minister. And let me tell you why. You won’t have much conviction if you have to say, “I’m sorry, that’s not right, sir,” but you will have it if you have to step in and say, “I’m sorry, that’s not right, Minister.” The first seems contradictory. The second is plausible.

However, things are very different when I do what I call a chat show interview. This is when the guest’s glamor and celebrity status is the reason I’m talking to them. This is not a current affairs interview where you examine politics or question decisions. Instead, I invite the interviewee to share anecdotes from their life, intended to reveal their personality and what it means to be in their place.

Calling them Sir or Madam would alienate them. This would introduce a formal separation note that would divide the discussion. On such occasions, I call my guests by their first names. So when I interviewed them, they were Javed (Akhtar), Shah Rukh (Khan), Madhuri (Dixit), Sharmila (Tagore), Vikram (Seth) and Sachin (Tendulkar).

However, things can get a little awkward when I’m interviewing people I know well who are also prominent politicians. Normally I would say Mr. Tharoor – to take that as an example. Except I know him as Shashi and Mr. Tharoor seems strange. My compromise is to either not take his name at all or refer to his full name i.e. Shashi Tharoor. This still fulfills the required formality without falling into the familiarity of the terms given.

What I would never do is call a minister Piyush or Kapil, even though that is how I know them. This suggests a camaraderie entirely out of place in a formal interview. The audience will sense this immediately and subsequently will not expect you to be firm, persistent and unyielding.

Now, does that answer the question I was asked? I realize it was a playful question, but nonetheless one that I could usefully answer and, in doing so, explain myself. It’s your turn to decide if my explanation makes sense.

Karan Thapar is the author of Devil’s Advocate: The Untold Story. The opinions expressed are personal.