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It is certainly a matter for concern that Steve Smith, during the second Test in Bangalore, looked up at the dressing room for guidance on whether to challenge his LBW decision in the second innings.
It is a matter for concern because such an action is definitely, indisputably, against the rules apparently, and the cricketing public has every right to be outraged that the Australian captain violated the rules in what can only be called a wilfully evil manner.
I do not condone rule-breaking, and it matters not what one thinks of the particular rule in question. If the signs say the speed limit is 80, I drive at 80, no matter how fast I think I should be going. If the government tells me I must vote on election day, I vote on election day, no matter how extreme my personal radical anarchist beliefs might be. And I don’t hunt native animals with a bow and arrow whether I want to or not.
So let’s be quite clear: Steve Smith was in the wrong here. That doesn’t exactly mean that Virat Kohli was in the right, because Virat Kohli is genetically constituted so as to be physically incapable of being in the right about anything. But let’s say that on this occasion, Kohli was slightly less in the wrong than usual.
That being said, I think it’s always worth examining a rule every now and then. And so I think it’s worth asking: exactly why aren’t players allowed to get help from the dressing room in their DRS decisions? What fundamental principle of cricket would the allowance of pavilion-based aid violate?
The time limit for deciding to review, remember, is fifteen seconds: it was fifteen seconds for Smith and there’s no reason why, if you removed the prohibition on dressing-room advice, it shouldn’t stay at fifteen seconds.
So although a batsman’s teammates and coaches might have a better idea about whether a review is justified or not, it’s not as if they’re going to have time to run ten different slow-mo angles to check their instincts.
It’s already accepted that when a batsman is given out and isn’t sure whether to review, the non-striker is obliged to give his opinion. This is a pretty heavy burden on the non-striker, who once upon a time was allowed to catch his breath and take in the scenery for a bit between runs.
A non-striker who causes his team to burn a review will be viewed darkly by management. A non-striker who tells his partner not to review when he wasn’t actually out will earn the sort of ire formerly reserved only for the man who bellows “Yes!” and then calmly turns his back as his haplessly charging colleague is run out.
It would relieve a little pressure on the man at the other end, if the off-field contingent were allowed to put their two cents in.
And really, why should the off-field team be any more forbidden than the non-striker to give their opinion? They’ve both had a view of the dismissal that the striker didn’t get, they’re both a resource helping the batsman make the right decision – why is a non-striker saying, “Nah mate, smashing middle” fair play while the coach giving you a thumbs-up is heinous cheating?
This applies to bowling reviews too, of course: it’s the captain who calls for reviews on the fielding team’s behalf, and he can consult the bowler, the keeper, the slips, the extra cover, everyone on the team, to make his decision, as long as he takes no more than fifteen seconds.
What is so contrary to the spirit of the game about the skipper turning to the stands and asking for a quick estimate of his chances?
Really, what it comes down to is the fundamental purpose of the DRS. Because the system as it exists involves each team being allowed two failed reviews, and because – no matter how often commentators mouth the insufferable phrase “it’s there to eliminate howlers” – DRS in practice represents a life preserver thrown to a drowning man, we have all seemingly come to the conclusion that the purpose of the DRS is to introduce a new tactical aspect to the game.
We speak of how “skilful” different teams are at using the DRS. Bowlers who do the hard work required to dismiss a batsman but fail to get the wicket are no longer seen as unlucky, if they foolishly failed to review the not-out decision.
A batsman triggered by an inept umpire deserves what he gets, if his team burnt their reviews earlier in the innings, leaving him no recourse. This is the way of the game now, and we all accept it.
So it might seem revolutionary when I float the idea that perhaps the purpose of the DRS is to get as many umpiring decisions as possible right.
Crazy, I know, but hear me out. What if the DRS is there to minimise error? What if – and I hate to be on the side of the howler-mentioners here – the reason we have a DRS is to try to make sure that as many mistakes as possible are corrected?
What if the aim of this marvellous technology is actually to dramatically decrease the likelihood of a batsman being wrongly given out, or a bowler unjustly denied a wicket?
What if the whole point of using replays, ball-tracking technology, sound detection and hotspots is to make a correct decision more probable than it would be without all that stuff?
Because if so, if we allow ourselves to imagine that the review system is directed toward an improvement in umpiring accuracy, then allowing players to get a second opinion from the dressing room can only assist in this aim.
A batsman who doesn’t realise he’s got a terrible LBW decision might walk off without taking his opportunity to challenge – if he got a wave from the fence telling him he should, the decision will be overturned and justice done.
The bowler who thinks he might have got a nick but just isn’t sure and they only have one review left and is it worth it… if he looks to the stands and sees the signal to go ahead and review, maybe he gets that wicket and nobody is left to wonder what might have been.
On the other hand, if the purpose of DRS is to manufacture drama and test players’ ability to do an umpire’s job, while providing them with a fun new way to embarrass themselves in public – we all had great fun with Shane Watson, didn’t we? – then sure, it’d be terrible to let anyone look off-field for guidance.
What it comes down to is, the only reason to change this rule is to make correct decisions more likely – but is that good enough reason to make a minor alteration with no negative consequences? Hard to say, I guess.