In a surprising twist of self-reflection, Members of Parliament have formed a groundbreaking new committee with a singular mission: to unravel the long-standing mystery of why exactly no one reads their committee reports. The newly established Committee on Investigating Committee Report Readership is off to a flying start, chaired by the ever-inquisitive MP, Sir Nigel Navelgazer.
The committee’s initial meeting, held in a room packed with dusty volumes of unread reports, began with a moment of silence for all the neglected documents that have been sacrificed over the years. “We must unlock the truth behind this pressing issue,” declared Sir Nigel, delicately balancing his bifocals on his nose. “This is a matter of national importance. Or at least, it will be once anyone reads what we’ve discovered.”
MPs from all parties expressed mild intrigue, which is just about all anyone can ask for in politics. The committee swiftly set to work, brainstorming a list of potential reasons. Suggestions ranged from the plausible—such as the bewildering number of reports on the wrong type of clotted cream used at government teas—to the more creative, like the theory that committee reports are actually coded messages sent by aliens keen to meddle in Earthly bureaucracy.
In an innovative twist, the committee commissioned a survey to gather public opinion on the topic. One question stood out: “When faced with a committee report, do you: A) Read it carefully. B) Skim it. C) Use it as a doorstop.” The results showed a clear preference for option C, leading one enthusiastic member to suggest adding a DIY doorstop kit as a special feature in future reports.
Meanwhile, the committee also dabbled in psychological warfare, attempting to make committee reports irresistible by inserting buzzwords like “juicy,” “cats,” and “celebrity mishaps” into titles. The team is currently drafting their first pilot report: “Cats Caught in Juicy Celebrity Mishaps: A Parliamentary Inquiry,” which has already garnered interest from feline enthusiasts.
To ensure comprehensive coverage of the issue, MPs are donning disguises to infiltrate the general public and observe reading habits at local libraries and coffee shops, where they often go unnoticed due to the sheer improbability of MPs enjoying decaf lattes. Sadly, initial findings indicate that people are more inclined to read coffee-stained napkins than governmental reports.
The committee has also unveiled a multi-pronged marketing campaign, employing catchy slogans such as “Report Happiness: Satisfaction begins on page 273” and “Don’t Let Democracy Stay Unread.” They’ve even roped in a celebrity endorsement from Larry the Downing Street Cat, hoping to leverage his undeniable star power to captivate audiences.
While it’s still early days, the committee is optimistic about their chances of transforming these reports from gathering dust in forgotten corners to garnering accolades at water coolers nationwide. “Our reports deserve to shine, like beacons of political insight,” declared Sir Nigel, with a passion usually reserved for debate over the merits of custard creams vs. bourbons.
As the committee continues its tireless work, encouraged by a growing Twitter account with followers well into double digits, they remain hopeful that one day, perhaps in a far-off utopia, committee reports will not only be read but celebrated. For now, however, the question remains: who will read the final report on why nobody reads the reports?