Why these Scottish schoolchildren could teach sycophantic MSPs how to act in parliament
The Scottish Parliament is a place where MSPs read out feeble questions and receive equally feeble answers in return. And if serious debate threatens to break out on matters like child poverty, it is cut short by ridiculous time limits on speaking
I noticed the Scottish team who won the World Schools Debating Championship were guests at Holyrood this week. One wonders what they made of it. Not much, I suspect.
Debate is the lifeblood of democracy and the more robust the better. Scotland has a great tradition in it. As long as I can remember, we have had politicians and public figures who could speak confidently and well, from all social backgrounds and walks of life.
It was a badge of pride that the products of state education could see off the public school toffs with a fancy accent but not much up top. Debating was a form of entertainment as well as enlightenment; the thrust of wit more effective than the solemn drone.
Reading from a script
Where did it all go wrong? I inadvertently tuned into a question-and-answer session at the Scottish Parliament the other day. It was unwatchable. Every question from the backbenches, however feeble or sycophantic, was read out and so, of course, was every answer.
The admirable teachers in our schools who foster debating as an extra-curricular activity would never tolerate it. “Throw away your script,” they would instruct. So how have we ended up with this as the norm in our devolved parliament?
I am relieved not to be alone or partisan in these perceptions. No less a personage than the Cabinet Secretary for Education, Jenny Gilruth, voiced very similar concerns at an SNP conference fringe meeting. She revealed that a Deputy Presiding Officers said to her: “We don't debate any more in the parliament. We have a reading out contest.” Ms Gilruth thought the answer might lie in banning mobile devices from the chamber but I think the malaise goes deeper than that.
Westminster’s standards declining
Does it matter? Well, of course it does. The quality of policy or legislation can only be tested by scrutiny and the challenge of ideas. If everything is reduced to formulaic exchanges, or ritual set-pieces, then nothing emerges except tedium and frustration.
Before I am accused of anti-Holyrood bias, I should say that Westminster is better, but less so than it used to be. It’s not long since any MP who tried to read a speech, far less a question, was heckled with cries of “reading” and the Speaker would remind him or her that this was against the rules. Standards have slipped but still vaguely prevail.
To be fair, Holyrood’s problem lies in its procedures as much as its personalities. Take this week’s debate on free school meals and the ditching of an SNP manifesto pledge. Opening speeches from Liam Kerr for the Tories and Pam Duncan-Glancy for Labour were combative efforts to hold ministers to account for their priorities. Ms Gilruth responded in kind, even if it was the same old theme of it all being Westminster’s fault.
Child poverty debate cut short
The scene could have been set for a passionate and important debate on a subject that touches on what is claimed as the highest priority of the Scottish Government – relieving child poverty. But the rules are more interested in brevity than poverty. In his closing speech for Labour, Martin Whitfield MSP summed it up: “This has been like a canteen in a high school, as people have rushed through the debate with their four-minute slots.”
Part of the devolution deal was supposed to be that the Scottish public would see issues close to their daily lives and communities being discussed in greater detail than was previously possible with actions shaped accordingly. In many respects, the opposite has happened.
Take a current example in which I have a minority interest – the uniquely Scottish system of crofting tenure which is rapidly breaking down under the weight of market forces and inadequate regulation. In advance of legislation, there is a Scottish Government consultation going on which has been universally dismissed on grounds of its narrow objectives and avoidance of the main issues. Without a major re-think, the legislation will be correspondingly useless.
A speech that changed the law
But where is that to come from? Like many minority subjects, it is complex and does not lend itself to four-minute speeches. Sixty years ago, there was another Crofting Bill going through Westminster. The Western Isles MP, Malcolm Macmillan, set a record for the longest backbench speech in decades – “a verbal onslaught of such length and tenacity”, reported The Scotsman, “that he succeeded in making the government alter virtually the whole Bill”.
At Holyrood, the Presiding Officer would be drumming her fingers after four minutes and telling him to sit down. I am not suggesting MSPs should be detained on a regular basis for lengthy discourses on crofting but the principle applies to any other complex subject – health, housing, poverty... If a parliament is going to make a difference, it must have the opportunity and competence to debate.
Holyrood needs urgent overhaul
There are recent exceptions which prove the rule. Fergus Ewing, who certainly does not need to read his speeches, went a long way to destroying the legislation on highly protected marine areas with a theatrical tearing up of the offending document in the Holyrood chamber. How many similarly effective contributions can anyone remember?
After 25 years, Holyrood is in urgent need of overhaul. It certainly does not need 28 ministers – almost half the total number of SNP MSPs with the barrel well and truly scraped. It is a public scandal that £2 million a year is spent on special advisers. The committee system which was supposed to rise above party whipping has rarely had the courage to do so. And so on.
A more effective parliament would produce better informed and more creative legislation. And who knows, in ten years’ time, our brilliant young student debaters might look down and think “I’d really like to be part of that” rather than “where’s that canteen?”
Comments
Want to join the conversation? Please or to comment on this article.
