A ministerial office has unveiled what it called a “streamlined transparency package” designed to make public information “more accessible to the human spirit.” The package replaces written reports with a short interpretive dance performed beside a lectern, followed by a question-and-answer session conducted entirely through polite nods.
According to staff, the move is intended to reduce “document fatigue,” a condition said to occur when members of the public are exposed to more than three consecutive paragraphs without a comforting infographic. “We’re still releasing all the same information,” a spokesperson insisted, “but we’re releasing it in a way that respects modern attention spans and the ancient art of shrugging.”
The new format reportedly includes a “clarity routine” in which a senior aide performs a series of expressive arm movements to indicate which parts of a policy are “complex,” “misunderstood,” or “best approached later, with a cup of tea and no further questions.” At the end of each performance, a small calculator is held up to the cameras. Instead of numbers, the display shows a single symbol: a thumbs-up that blinks at varying speeds depending on how confident the office feels.
Internal guidance notes say the dance must begin plausibly, with recognisable gestures for concepts like “budget,” “timeline,” and “delivery,” before escalating into choreography representing “headwinds,” “legacy constraints,” and “a line-by-line breakdown of why everything is technically someone else’s fault.”
Observers said the most striking innovation is the “appendix section,” in which the dancer quietly places a stack of blank paper onto the podium to signify “the full report is available upon request,” then slowly slides it off the edge to signify “the request has been noted.”
The office confirmed that members of the public may still submit formal information requests, though these will now be answered with a set of pre-approved emojis printed on official letterhead. The minister concluded the announcement with what aides described as an “evidence-based pirouette,” before accidentally revealing the entire costings spreadsheet through jazz hands.
