NEW YORK - Here was a chance for voters to ask the Democratic presidential hopefuls a question, get on TV while doing it - and never have to leave home.

Taking the town hall meeting concept to cyberspace lengths, Monday's CNN-YouTube Debate was a fresh blend of online video and old-line political talking heads. But did this show succeed in advancing the democratic process? Shake things up? Did it even make for good television?

The debate, which included all eight Democratic Party contenders, aired on CNN from The Citadel military college in Charleston, S.C. It began in novel fashion when a young man identified as Chris from Portland posed a valid enough question: Would the candidates really answer the questions they were asked, “versus beating around the Bush, so to speak.”

Then media-savvy Chris concluded an arch signoff: He took it on himself to introduce Anderson Cooper, the debate moderator.

“Tonight is really something of an experiment,” Cooper told the audience, adding, “The candidates on this stage don't know how it's going to work, and neither do their campaigns.”

Here was a chance for a televised debate to bypass jaded, insular media professionals firing out boilerplate questions, in favor of camcorder-wielding “citizen journalists” whose 30-second, prerecorded inquiries presumably would capture the real-world concerns of the electorate.

In recent weeks, some 3,000 homemade questions had been posted to the YouTube Web site, where online visitors could peruse them at will.

Of course, Monday night, the come-one-come-all ethos of the Internet collided with CNN, the debate's Old Media partner. CNN not only was putting on the two-hour event, but its editors had hand-picked the questions to be aired.

How did certain questions make the cut? Topic, tastefulness and viewer interest must have all played a part, but CNN shared no details about its decision-making process.

Even so, Cooper offered a few tips for how submissions for the Sept. 17 Republican debate could boost the odds for being chosen: They shouldn't have people dressed up in costumes, using children to make adult points, or get too cute.

Accordingly, most of the questions the Democrats faced were straightahead and no-nonsense. Most had a single speaker talking directly to the camera.

This didn't mean the questions weren't sometimes offbeat.

The candidates were asked if they'd be willing to accept the minimum wage as president. They were polled on how many members of their family were currently serving in uniform. And did they think a national health plan should include undocumented workers?

A Planned Parenthood worker from Pennsylvania asked “if any of you have talked to your children about sex, and used medically accurate and age-appropriate information?”

Three refugee workers seen with children at a refugee camp near Darfur asked the candidates what they would do to “get these children back home to a safe Darfur” without “yet another empty promise?”

A few other videos struck a more visual style.

A talking snowman from Minneapolis asked about global warming.

Remy Munasifi of McLean, Va., performed in a clever music video where he sang about being overtaxed.

How big a change did CNN give viewers? More than a stunt and less than a revolution, this first YouTube debate was more impressive for some of the questions it raised than the answers it delivered. One reason: Too many candidates, too little time, and a format that discouraged followup questions or actual debating.

Those are problems YouTube can't fix.