According to the Terminator films, man‑made machines will arrive sometime in the future where they become self-aware and take over the world. Given the speed at which football embraces technology, it's safe to assume that referees will be the last human sacrifice. In the meantime we will have to hope that we can produce a few more officials like Howard Webb, who has the task of taking charge of Manchester United and Chelsea on Sunday.

Many referees lay claim to one archetypal dictator-like trait (self‑confidence) while exhibiting all the hallmarks of another (self-delusion). What rankles most with players during a game is a referee who is clearly enjoying being the centre of attention and not, I hasten to add, because we feel that they may be detracting from the main event, namely us. This is because a referee who displays this behaviour generally blows his whistle more than is necessary, impinges on the flow of play and is wholly unapproachable from the outset.

This showmanship could be the result of a few things: either the teams he is refereeing have given him a hard time in the not too distant past or, just as likely, the referee in question personifies his performance. Whatever the reason, some games have certainly been ruined by these flaws. For the record, Rob Styles embodied all of those characteristics.

Some referees are over-friendly and refer to the top players by their nicknames and to other players, who perhaps don't command the same aura, by their surname. Thinking about it as I have over the years, it must be in our human nature to want to buddy up to those who are at the top of the tree and, in turn, try to please them.

I have seen many decisions given that I don't think players from smaller teams would necessarily have got, and when you throw into the mix the consequences of not giving a decision to a "big" player that then results in a goal for the other team or incurs the wrath of that player's manager in the media, then one can see how a referee might have one eye on Monday morning's headlines before he steps on to the pitch.

This human element in referees gives players all the encouragement they need when trying to steer a match in their favour, from cracking jokes in the tunnel with him to applauding when he gives a decision their way – especially if it should have gone to the other team – or putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Yet an aggressive approach can be just as effective. If a referee gives any indication that he may be unsure or weak then he will come in for some fairly heavy-handed tactics, from physical contact to the worst abuse.

Webb, who for my money is the best referee we have, once showed me first-hand how he refuses to take any nonsense from players. After a series of free-kicks given against us, I ran towards him to remonstrate, shouting and swearing as I went. As I got to him, he swivelled round and poked a sausage-sized finger into my midriff. Winded, I found myself in the desperately uncomfortable position of being doubled over, while at the same time crying with laughter inside at the thought of anyone in the street where I grew up finding out that a referee – and a copper no less – had taken me down with a single prod of a finger. He finished me off by saying in an eerily calm voice: "Don't talk to me like that." Sometimes it is better to admit defeat. The shame, however, lives on.

I can't say that I am particularly proud of losing my cool and swearing at referees. It is very difficult to get across just how angry you can become on a football pitch, but swearing is a weakness – a sign that the brain isn't working fast enough to construct a decent sentence and get your point across.

There are a couple of refs who swear as much as some of the players, telling us to fuck off if we go near them and worse. It isn't a problem, but it does stand out as a markedly different approach and makes booking a player for dissent more tricky.

Of course, there are occasions when players, and managers for that matter, go completely over the top and make a referee's job virtually impossible. The Football Association wastes money on its flawed Respect campaign in a token attempt to look as if it is being proactive, but it does not offer any of the referees the real protection that they so badly need for them to do their job.

I believe that fitting all officials with a microphone, with the full knowledge of the players, managers, coaching staff and fans, would go a long way to ending the abuse they take. I'm pretty confident that players would think more than twice about swearing at any official if they thought everyone could hear him. I know I would.

In 1989 David Elleray wore a microphone in a match between Millwall and Arsenal. After he judged that Tony Adams's shot hadn't crossed the line, the Arsenal captain was overheard calling Elleray the C-word. If there is one word that you never call a referee it's "cheat". Adams, it is safe to assume, would have spoken to Elleray a little differently had he known he was being recorded.

At least it looks as if there may be some relief on the horizon for officials. It is widely anticipated that goalline technology will be with us in time for the 2012-13 season, which should help to stem some of the conflict that we see every time an official has to make a decision like the one at Stamford Bridge last Saturday.

Not enough time for machines to gain self-awareness between now and then but certainly long enough for the players.