We're here at the second reading—always a remarkable instance to be, first and foremost, doing a second reading literally minutes after the first reading, and not a second after a select committee. And, for those at home who are going, "What on earth is he talking about?"—which in itself may be a common experience—and asking, "What does he mean?", what I mean is that we've had no select committee process. And I understand that fine colleagues on this side, who have chosen to use more of the English vernacular than the other—mainly they've got past the words "the" and "commend"—have pointed out that there's been no committee. I'm not going to drag that out too much, but, again, that's a fairly major affront. I acknowledge this is a small change, and the reasons for it, I think, we will quickly look over, but fundamentally there is a paradox—there is a paradox—at play. We are giving the right to vote to prisoners. And, look, there's good reason for that. I mean, we disagree on this side of the House as a party but there is, if you will, a good, moral argument for prisoners to have a vote, to have a say. Yet the paradox, of course, tonight is that the New Zealand public are given absolutely no right to have a say on this bill. They've been censored, for want of a better word. They've been precluded—