So what happens when long slog of public policy gets the ESPN treatment? Consider "Obamacare." The pending legislation rarely was covered as a touchy balancing act between the competing self-interests of doctors, insurance companies, drug makers, hospitals, the AARP, uninsured citizens and others; in fact, it rarely was covered as a health-care issue at all. Rather, it was given a snappy, inaccurate nickname and framed as a political fight, as apocalyptic and over-the-top as a college football bowl game: You are watching live! Democrats versus Republicans, Obama against the Tea Party, two men enter, one man leaves, the fate of American freedom and your sick grandmother on the line!

Who ya got?

Speaking of conflict, you might assume the frothiest tête-à-têtes on sports television involve, say, the Boston Celtics and Los Angeles Lakers going at each other on the court. Guess again. The most heated debates involve network analysts incessantly arguing about the Lakers and Celtics. (And the BCS, and Tim Tebow, and who's worthy of MVP honors ... ) The most influential journalism program of the last decade is ESPN's "Pardon the Interruption," which pits former sportswriters Tony Kornheiser and Michael Wilbon against each other in a series of timed, rapid-fire debates on the news items of the day.

Have a take. Defend it vociferously. Attack anyone who disagrees. Declare victory. It's talk radio's bombastic solo acts replaced by ping-pong dialogue, CNN's old "Crossfire" after a six-pack of Four Loko.

"PTI" makes for addictive, irresistible viewing. The show's formula has been widely emulated. This works fine for sports, where, ultimately, the verbal sparring and subsequent rush to ephemeral judgment involves overgrown men in numbered pajamas chasing balls and waving sticks. But politics and policy are another matter. By focusing on the act of shouting -- specifically, on who wins by shouting the loudest -- the news fails to focus on what's actually being said, or ask the two questions that matter most.

Does this make sense? Is it true?

The political press did a bang-up job covering the political debate over going to war in Iraq. They whiffed badly on the nuts-and-bolts of the decision, from the non-existence of WMDs to post-invasion military planning. What happens when everyone is shouting and vamping for camera No. 2? Facts get lost amid the din. As does asking the right questions. This matters. In 2010, a poll found that Americans believe that foreign aid accounts for one-quarter of the federal budget. The actual number is about one percent. Question is, who's going to tell the public otherwise? The talking heads having verbal slap-fights about $5 million in federal subsidies for NPR, which barely accounts for a rounding error against $3.5 trillion in spending?

A friendly reminder to anyone waiting for a rational plan to balance our books and reduce the deficit: don't hold your breath unless you have: (a) a swimming pool or (b) gills.