Maybe in the future we can dispense with human referees and replace them with miracles of technology yet to be devised. Or import them from currently unknown galaxies to prevent Sportscall being inundated by people casting aspersions on the basis that the android factory is located within the boundary of a certain county.
Let's not be squeamish either about the programming although any Daleks recruited might perhaps have their "exterminate" buttons disabled; then again in the Ulster championship, perhaps not. And be resolute when the wailing for locally manufactured robots rings out. In the meantime the Gael must make do with the gaunt, hollow-eyed ranks of flesh-and-blood match officials.
It is admittedly hard to have the outcome of matches riding on human arbitration with all its inherent capacity for error. But there is a safety measure I am happy to lay at the disposal of managers and players everywhere.
It guarantees deliverance from the vagaries of refereeing mistakes and it's simple: don't make any mistakes yourselves. Misdirect no passes, kick no wides, miss no tackles, spot every deficiency as soon as it emerges and remedy the problem with a timely replacement. Do all of this and your team will be protected from any erroneous decision-making by match officials.
One of my earlier tasks as a reporter was to interview Paddy Collins, whose capable handling of the 1989 All-Ireland final had turned him into something of a celebrity.
Two things he said stuck with me. One was his regret that, even at that stage, managers were increasingly targeting referees as part of their game plan. The other was that whereas players who put in a bad performance often had mitigating factors advanced on their behalf, no such slack was cut for referees.
I was reminded of these points while surveying last weekend, the GAA's busiest of the championship season, and its glut of controversy and 17 red cards. Going on what happened, it's by no means certain even robots would want to do a GAA referee's job.
If everything went to plan refereeing would be a hard enough task but in the circumstances that arose over the weekend - and that arise every weekend - the demands are becoming intolerable.
Maurice Deegan refereed the Ulster replay between Armagh and Donegal. He made mistakes, including the fatal one of trying to let the game "flow" in its early stages. He was approached by both managers, Joe Kernan and Brian McEniff, on his way off at half-time.
As one eyewitness put it: "What's the message that sends out to the supporters for the second half?"
Kernan was unapologetic afterwards: "I won't be blamed for this. I said I was not happy with his first half but I didn't abuse him for his performance. Am I not entitled to do that?"
Well, no. No one should be. There shouldn't be any latitude for team officials to pursue grievances with referees on match day. Regulations state pitch encroachment can be punished by sideline bans but how often does that happen? Last year Kilkenny manager Brian Cody indulged in graphic and animated remonstration with referee Diarmuid Kirwan at half-time and received nothing more than another warning.
After the break last Saturday Deegan handed out second yellow cards to Eamonn McGee and Brian Roper. Both were sustainable decisions. The straight red cards shown to Adrian Sweeney and Francie Bellew were harsh in the first instance and just mistaken in the second. Both have some chance on appeal.
Few would quibble with acquittals. But if that happens where's the quid pro quo? Con Hogan, chair of the central disciplinary committee (CDC), has said that whereas his committee has the power to use video evidence to overrule the referee such authority would be used sparingly. And so far that has been the case.
The very obvious example was when Dublin's Ciarán Whelan got away with throwing a dig at Nigel Crawford at the throw-in for the Dublin-Meath match. Referee John Bannon was roundly criticised for this and acknowledged that the call was a wrong one at last week's at-times stormy meeting of intercounty referees.
(At that meeting the need to enforce the rules was emphasised, an exhortation that has since morphed in the minds of some into some sinister directive to start sending players off and led to the puzzling notion that managers should be warned when the rules are about to be enforced.)
Far from undermining Bannon, a good referee who normally acts decisively against foul play, any move to use video evidence to overrule one of his mistakes would at least rectify to some extent the original situation. Referees know when they've made an error and most suffer greatly on the realisation.
Think back to the documentary about football referees Pat McEnaney and Michael Curley. McEnaney was in his luxurious Páirc Uí Chaoimh dressingroom at half-time during a Munster final and an incident in which he'd handed out a couple of lenient yellow cards was obviously nagging him.
He queried rather anxiously of Bannon, who was a linesman that afternoon, whether his decision had been right. Bannon averted his eyes and McEnaney winced and drew a sharp intake of breath.
McEnaney has privately said he has no difficulty with video evidence being used to overrule incorrect decisions.
But if Bellew has his red card rescinded, why would it be all right to overrule a referee's decision in that case but not in Whelan's? There's a lot of conspiracy talk accompanying poor decisions. "Whelan wasn't punished because Dublin are too important" or - topical again - "Counties like Limerick get nothing off Kerry."
The problem with such neuroses is that they thrive unchallenged. On Sunday Limerick's Mark O'Riordan was handed a harsh second yellow card for an incident with Colm Cooper, in which television pictures later showed the Kerry star raising an elbow at his marker. The referee clearly noticed nothing and yellow-carded O'Riordan on the advice of an umpire. No matter what sort of treatment Cooper gets in matches, he's not entitled to flash his elbows. Will he be asked by CDC to account for his actions? Don't hold your breath.
Two things are needed: a clearly drafted offence of engaging confrontationally with a match official and for the CDC - a new body that entered office last month with high hopes that it would take charge of discipline - to get its act together and use its powers to make sure foul, and sometimes violent, play is punished.