The camera never blinks. It just records the slow-motion car crash of political discourse until the tape runs out or the server crashes.

Kiren Rijiju is playing a familiar chord. The Union Minister recently took to the digital town square to point out what he sees as a fatal flaw in Rahul Gandhi’s hardware: the man can’t handle a tough question. According to Rijiju, Gandhi’s recent friction with the press isn't just a bad day at the office. It’s a systemic refusal to engage. A bug in the democratic operating system.

We’ve seen this movie before. A politician stands behind a podium, a reporter asks something that isn't on the pre-approved script, and the whole thing deconstructs into a shouting match. Gandhi’s "outburst," as Rijiju frames it, involves questioning the credentials, the bosses, and the motives of the people holding the microphones. It’s a defensive crouch disguised as a counter-attack.

But let’s be real. This isn’t just about Gandhi being thin-skinned or Rijiju being a concerned observer. It’s about the total collapse of the press conference as a functional tool.

In the old days—which, in tech years, was about twenty minutes ago—the press conference was a high-stakes exchange. Information for access. Now, it’s just raw material for the edit suite. When Gandhi snaps at a journalist, he isn’t talking to the room. He’s feeding the algorithm. He knows that a clip of him "exposing" a reporter will play better with his base than a nuanced three-minute answer on agrarian policy.

Rijiju knows this, too. By calling out the outburst, he’s engaging in the same feedback loop. He isn't looking for a more transparent debate; he’s looking for the "ratio." He’s highlighting the friction because friction is the only thing that generates heat on a smartphone screen.

The specific friction here is expensive. We’re paying for this theater with the currency of actual information. When a leader refuses to answer or turns the interrogation back on the interrogator, the price tag is a total lack of accountability. It’s a trade-off. We trade the boring, necessary work of governance for the dopamine hit of a "savage" comeback.

Gandhi’s camp would argue the media is compromised. They’ll tell you the reporters aren't asking questions; they’re carrying water for the establishment. Maybe. But the moment you stop answering, you lose the high ground. You just become another content creator screaming into the void.

Rijiju’s critique hits because it taps into a genuine exhaustion. People are tired of the dodge. They’re tired of the "Who do you work for?" deflection. It’s a cheap trick. It’s the political equivalent of a software developer blaming the user’s ISP for a memory leak in their own app. "The problem isn't my code; the problem is how you're looking at it."

It doesn’t help that the media environment is a dumpster fire. The traditional press corps is being squeezed between a hostile political class and a business model that rewards outrage over accuracy. A reporter today isn't just a set of ears; they’re a target. If they ask a soft question, they’re a shill. If they ask a hard one, they’re an agent of the opposition. There’s no winning move.

So, Rijiju posts. Gandhi snaps. The cycle repeats.

The irony is that both sides claim to be the true defenders of the "people." Yet, the people are the ones left staring at a screen, watching two sides argue about the rules of a game nobody is actually playing anymore. We aren't getting policy updates. We aren't getting clarity on the economy or foreign shifts. We’re getting meta-commentary on the behavior of the people who are supposed to be running the show.

It’s a glitch. A massive, loud, distracting glitch.

If Gandhi doesn't want to answer questions, he’s effectively saying the hardware is closed-source. No tinkering allowed. If Rijiju is only interested in pointing out the "outbursts," he’s just acting as a glorified beta tester for the opposition’s PR failures. Neither approach fixes the underlying issue.

The democratic interface is broken. The buttons don't work, the screen is cracked, and the guys in charge are too busy arguing with the tech support team to notice the building is on fire.

If the goal of a political leader is to communicate a vision, shouldn't they be able to handle a guy with a notepad and a deadline? Or has the "outburst" simply become the only feature that still gets a signal?

We’re all just waiting for the reboot. But judging by the current uptime, we might be waiting a while.

What happens when the people asking the questions finally stop showing up?