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Simon Cowell is rumoured to be on the verge of quitting The X Factor. Tom Lamont and Euan Ferguson debate whether the programme could survive such a blow Yes, says Observer journalist Tom Lamont To borrow Cowell’s own expansive interpretation of maths: 1,000,000% yes. He is essential to The X Factor . That is not to say that when, as has been suggested, Cowell steps down from his on-screen role on the show, ending a seven-year run as judge and mentor to focus his attention on American TV, The X Factor will end. More than 20 million tuned in at its peak last year; ITV will not cull this revenue source in a hurry. But without Cowell The X Factor will be diminished. Keen smiles ( We’re OK! ). Host Dermot O’Leary doing twice as many clicks and heel-spins ( It’s still fun! ). Singers trying to look grave as they listen to verdicts from Cowell’s replacement ( This is legitimate criticism! ). The show will live on, but unhappily. The contestants are the problem. Conditioned by years of platitude and catchphrase-analysis from the show’s other judges (first Louis Walsh and Sharon Osbourne, then Walsh, Dannii Minogue and Cheryl Cole), auditionees have learned to care only what Cowell thinks. Good performers wait kindly while Walsh repeats their name several times and pronounces on their “star quality”, while Minogue says something about “smashing it” and Cole tries to cry. Yeah, yeah, their faces say – but what does he think? Bad performers look properly distraught if Walsh, Minogue or Cole say something mean, but always have one eye on Cowell. One of the incidental delights of The X Factor is that bit, a quarter-way through, when the contestants are divided into groups (under-25s, boy bands, and so on) and told which judge will “mentor” them. If they get Cowell it’s chaos: fancying themselves that much closer to escape from routine life, the hopefuls run towards him as if he were the last American helicopter out of ‘Nam. The other judges get a bit of fist-pumping, all the contestants grin, but their eyes are worried. They’re thinking about those peers, weeping and bear-hugging in Simon Cowell’s living room. It shows they’ve got some industry nous, already, to care about Cowell so much. Outside the bounds of its 20-week TV run, the show’s best chart successes have been defined by their relationship to Cowell. Either boosted by his lavish support (Leona Lewis, an X Factor champ in 2006) or by his teasing opposition (Will Young, a contestant on X Factor predecessor Pop Idol , launched to fame by being the first contestant to talk back to Cowell, to spar with the master). So, yes, he’s essential – essential, lastly, to audience enjoyment. At least mine. As is probably clear, I’m not so much a fan of The X Factor as a fan of the Simon Cowell bits. He’s really the only one with the nebulous quality the programme purports to search for. Charged to think up new ways to say “You’re good” or “You’re bad” well over 100 times a series, he keeps his little blasts of critique enviably fresh. Perhaps more impressively he keeps all boredom in check as, every year, the same crowd of karaoke veterans, frustrated professionals, tearful family types ( always instructed to audition at the deathbed of a relative) troop through. He keeps our boredom in check too. Cowell’s the whole show. No, says Observer TV critic Euan Ferguson Personally, I’d rather Mr Cowell stayed in Britain. Not, and I mean that word in big angry italics, because I think he does any good, but because Americans are now going to spend the next year thinking the cream of British style, wit and intellect today is faithfully represented by Simon Cowell and Piers