Really, Australia? Is this the way it’s going to be? This is how we’re going to play it?

The political discourse in this country, having been sputtering for some time, finally went into its unstoppable death spin this week, trailing a plume of black smoke and echoing with the screams of the terrified and slightly bored voters trapped inside.

We started out with a surrealist moment when everyone suddenly started talking about blue ties for no readily apparent reason. We then were subjected to the affair of the menu, in which we learnt just what classy, sophisticated affairs Liberal Party fundraisers are.

We might have thought that that was going to be the nadir of this teeth-grindingly tacky week, but then West Australian talk radio host and alleged adult Howard Sattler demonstrated that our concepts of “bottom of the barrel” were wildly optimistic. Asking Julia Gillard if her boyfriend was gay, and then asking again, and then quite hilariously saying, “it’s not me saying it”, Howard took the concept of “journalism”, turned it inside out, and wore it like a particularly stupid hat.

And so I ask again, really? It’s not like Sattler is just some guy who randomly broke into a studio: he’s a professional announcer following the same template for radio stardom that Alan Jones, Chris Smith, Ray Hadley, Steve Price and others have patented.

Is this what we’re going to have to put up with? A political debate that revolves around sniggering at women’s body parts and smirks about gay hairdressers?

People will protest that Sattler wasn’t being sexist, because every time someone is sexist in public people protest that they weren’t being sexist. You could ask these people to reel off the number of times that previous prime ministers were asked if their wives were lesbians: in fact you could ask them to specify those occasions on which previous prime ministers were quizzed on any aspect of their wives’ sex lives at all; but they’d be unlikely to take the point, because they are not very bright.

But I understand the urge to deny that sexism is happening, because I’m a man and I hate talking about sexism: it makes me feel guilty and self-conscious. It is, frankly, awkward.

But that’s OK: let’s not talk about sexism. Let’s talk about manners. Let’s talk about the way you talk to another human being. In this case, as it so happened, the other human being was the prime minister of Australia, who you had invited onto your radio show for a serious interview. But even leaving all that aside, let us consider, when you are having a conversation with somebody, how do you talk to them?

You don’t talk to them the way Sattler talked to Gillard, unless you want to be quite explicit about the fact that you are a rude, ill-mannered, nasty little boor. And that’s the sexism, right there: the belief that the opposite sex is so far beneath you that you don’t even have to worry about whether you’re rude to them or not.

So, really? Having reassured ourselves that we’re justified in “holding them to account” and “having robust debates” and “speaking truth to power”, we’re now just flat-out rude to their faces? When our leaders face us, do we want to grill them over what they’re doing right and what they’re doing wrong, or do we want to have a giggle about their genitalia and their boyfriend’s sexuality?

Look Australia, it’s your decision, but you should know: right now, you’re an embarrassment.