Last time I went to watch a televised debate, it was the BBC’s Question Time programme. Today’s ITV Mayoral debate - to be broadcast tomorrow - was a very different experience. The organisation was poor, the audience was loud, and the questions were planted. A genuine debate I think not. A valuable experience, though, it most definitely was.

After a very long time queueing, we were ushered into the studio with a slightly banterous security guard. Admittedly this was not the most enjoyable part of the evening; he thought he was being funny when he was searching my bag, asking if I had brought a sword with me. I’ve heard that one before. Before long we were ushered into seats by a really switched-on usher who didn’t quite grasp that filling a row from the aisle outwards is not the most sensible way to get people to their seats. Ten minutes of musical chairs later, we were settled and ready to start.

The production company had other ideas. ITV had over-allocated tickets, as they are justified in doing, which left many people disappointed outside. The early bird really did get the worm this time. For those of us inside, the heat was mounting as the studio lights glared down on a large audience. A number of reserved seats remained to be filled, but as soon as they were taken the show got on the road.

It soon became clear that those sitting in the reserved seats were the least camera-shy. Or, to put it less bluntly, the correlation between people asking questions and people sitting in reserved seats was roughly 100%. They all had prepared, written questions. They all had a cause to raise in some pseudo-aggressive manner. Having been told so many times that “we, the audience” were leading the debate, I found myself tempted to expose the sham question-asking. It was utterly unnecessary: you need not sex up a TV debate when viewers are already viewing it! I wonder how many people turn off their TVs thinking “I don’t want to see any more of that debate because the questions are not nearly as direct and vitriolic as I would like”.

My temptations to heckle were clearly not contained to myself: the audience was almost encouraged to shout as they pleased, and a huge number of people in the audience took pleasure in obliging. At times it became clear that the heckling was preventing debate: the candidates were often left finishing their arguments under total cover of miscellaneous grumblings. When Ken Livingstone issued some slur or other towards Boris Johnson there was an immediate wave of applause, followed by a loud and sustained “boo”, topped with random yells of “Boris! Boris!”. There were a few occasions where the candidates were clearly refusing to be taken on an issue, but the cries of “answer the question, Boris!” did nothing to progress debate. For his part, Alastair Stewart made sure he got answers without behaving like Paxman. It was a genial, slightly less than high-brow affair, and Stewart filled his role perfectly. Top marks for him.

To judge the prospective mayors is a more difficult task. I remain convinced that none of the candidates is truly worthy of this great city, and remain reluctant to express support for any of them. But this evening’s performance has consolidated my opinion in some areas and shifted it in others. Ken Livingstone is most in control of facts and figures, but he has a sad tendency to accompany them with half-truths and outright fallacies. Boris Johnson knows Livingstone’s lies inside out, but is shaky on his own spending plans (whilst pretending to be “consistent” on the issue). Brian Paddick performed much better than usual: he was more calm in fighting for airtime and sounded like a typical LibDem on Question Time, seeking out applause. A marked improvement.

Some nutjob asking a question (rehearsed, from a reserved seat) said that she thought Enoch Powell was right about immigration. While the audience was “oooh!”-ing and “boo!”-ing, the candidates were fighting for the chance to answer first. Paddick won, and received his best round of applause of the night. He is becoming much better at these sorts of events, and given that he has only been in politics for five minutes it is to his credit that he has learned so quickly. Paddick certainly gets top marks for effort.

The debate demonstrated amply that the three candidates featured passionately want to run London for the next four years. It would be deeply unfair to suggest that Boris Johnson is uninterested in London: he’s arguably more in touch with the aspects of London life that mean most to people. It is telling that his applause came mostly from statements of objection to simple observations about London life: Ken Livingstone can claim to have lived in London all his life but he does not have the same cultural affinity with it. That said, Mr Livingstone has a far better grasp of London politics - hardly surprising when he has dominated the leadership of it for decades, despite a period of rest after Thatcher prevailed over him in the GLC. Brian Paddick, it seems, cares little for much aside raw policy; including arguing his case. His performance today was better than previously, but it would be unfair to pretend that he is an overnight master of PR.

The debate ended and the planted questioners were asked to stay behind (presumably to get paid?) while the rest of us left the studio. A glorious line of silver Prius cars adorned the road outside. One had a card in the window advertising its customer as one “B Haddick”. That rather sums up the campaign, I think.