THE first word the Oxford English Dictionary adduces in its definition of debate is “strife”, followed shortly by “quarrelling” and “wrangling”. Strife, quarrelling and wrangling have certainly ensued after Theresa May’s declaration that she was willing to participate in a televised debate of her Brexit plan.

If this sounded like an uncharacteristically confident brainstorm on the Prime Minister’s part, it soon became clear that the only person she wanted to debate with was Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn. Clearly, she is not keen on debating with Nicola Sturgeon.

The First Minister accused Mrs May of being afraid to do so and, certainly, it fitted in with Ms Sturgeon’s wider narrative yesterday that Scotland’s interests were being ignored and the country being treated with “contempt”.

While all that might sound like standard nationalist rhetoric, the idea of leaving Ms Sturgeon out of the debate has been criticised by many south of the Border, including Labour’s Baron Adonis. One reason for this is that, given Mr Corbyn’s many accommodations, they see her as the true voice of Remain. Ms Sturgeon herself has described May v Corbyn as “two versions of Brexit”.

Be that as it may, there surely is a strong case for letting the First Minister of Scotland, and leader of the third largest party in the Commons, speak in the debate. Yesterday, however, David Lidington, Mrs May’s de facto deputy, demanded it be restricted to “the leaders of the two biggest parties at Westminster”, and suggested that Scots debate the matter among themselves, presumably with no one down south paying any attention.

From another perspective, Boris Johnson said the debate was a dud because both Mrs May and Mr Corbyn voted for Remain. Putting all the quarrels together, then, the debate could feature no proper Brexit voice, no proper Remain voice, and no Scottish voice. It would be a debate haunted by absent debaters, though at least that would mean less strife for Mrs May.