House of Lords reform: a non-baron writes

Oh no, I'm not bitter about the fact that, had the positions been reversed, Ros would have become a Lady.

Actually, I'm not. It does seem a bit quirky, but signing off letters from HM Revenue & Customs, "Yours faithfully, Baron Valladares of Needham Market", might, I fear, give people the wrong impression about our new and dynamic UK tax administration.

On the other hand, I do have a view about the Ministry of Justice's new publication, "The Governance of Britain - An Elected Second Chamber: Further reform of the House of Lords", one of the most vacuous documents ever published, even by the standards of this government. Eleven years in power, a clear mandate for reform, and you sense that any radicalism that might have been left is now utterly dissipated.

So, let's see what their conclusions are...

3.6 The reformed second chamber should take account of the prevailing political view amongst the electorate, but also provide opportunities for independent and minority views to be represented.

Hmm... if we rewrite it in the negative... The reformed second chamber need not reflect the view of voters... alright, entirely motherhood and apple pie so far...

4.30 The Government would welcome views on the size of the second chamber.

Pardon me? Isn't this a White Paper? What do you mean, you don't know? For God's sake, you're the government, you've got a majority. So use it!

4.41 There was strong consensus in the Cross-Party Group for, and the Government proposes that there should be, direct elections to the second chamber.

Hallelujah, at least most of the hereditaries didn't die in vain...

4.80 The Government believes that further consideration should be given to the following voting systems options for elections to the second chamber:

• a First Past the Post system;


• an Alternative Vote system;


• a Single Transferable Vote system; or


• an open or semi-open list system.

As opposed to naked arm-wrestling, synchronised bungy-jumping or a silly walk competition. Actually, I know, we could do it as a political version of Jeux San Frontieres, where candidates could dress up as penguins and try and fill buckets with water coming from a tap eight feet off of the ground whilst standing on a greased turntable. It would certainly keep costs down...

4.87 The Government believes that there should be a process to fill vacancies and would welcome views on what those arrangements should be.

Bless, isn't it wonderful that they believe that voters shouldn't go without representation...

From there on in, the document is a morass of entirely reasonable, if mechanistic, set of proposals, most of which are unlikely to offend particularly.

The question of what happens to those Life Peers already elevated to the second chamber is addressed by means of a series of options. There is a moral dimension to this, in that these individuals have been sent there for life. You could argue that a contract has been entered into but, given that the average age of members of the House of Lords is sixty-eight, the actuarial bottom line is that death will take care of the problem in comparatively short order. That, and a modestly generous redundancy package, would probably satisfy the contractual obligation, and ensure that a reformed second chamber would be mostly elected by 2020.

For psephology geeks out there, Annex 2 considers what the make up of a reformed second chamber might be based on the results of the 2005 General Election. Putting aside the fact that, if current opinion polls are correct, the tables serve no useful purpose whatsoever, they do indicate that any proposal that calls for first past the post or alternative vote should be actively opposed by anyone other than Conservative or Labour supporters.

The Annex also indicates how the reformed second chamber would have looked after each election since 1974, and shows how we have advanced as a party since then.

And so, what are the prospects for House of Lords reform? Labour consider this to be an issue for their next term. The Conservatives view - something for a third term. On that basis, I expect to be married to a member of the House of Lords for some time to come...

A homecoming queen, make that baroness

Yesterday was Kendal and Hebden Bridge, today saw the roadshow reach Bradford, where Jeanette Sunderland generously hosted a cream tea. Home made down to the jam, with some excellent tea and great company, it gave Ros an opportunity to meet some members in a less formal environment.

In fact, Ros has a Bradford connection, in that her father's family came from Bradford, and she frequently visited the area as a child.

I got to spend some quality time with Mat and Jennie, who'd come from Brighouse to enjoy the sunshine and strawberries. Jennie's meteoric rise to blogging fame has been evidence (if it were needed) that gender isn't a barrier to successful blogging, but the ability to convey a message is. It would be fair to say that our styles are somewhat different (I write like a bureaucrat, she... doesn't) but I follow her blog for the quality of the spleen-venting.

We'd spent the first part of the day relaxing in our hotel room. Whilst the events themselves are a lot of fun, the travelling can be very tiring, with crowded, noisy trains making it very hard to relax. Add to that the tension caused by late-running trains and missed connections, and you can understand why we take a lot of trouble to ensure that the schedule leaves as much recovery time as possible.

And as the campaign hots up, my role as travel co-ordinator becomes more important. There are two aspects to the task, making the travel efficient and, equally important, stretching the travel budget as far as possible - this isn't cheap, let me assure you, and finances are limited. I've learned a remarkable amount about the way the various rail companies price tickets as we've gone on and you'd be amazed at the apparent insanity of it all...

A Liberal Democrat pilgrimage

Catholics have Lourdes or Santiago de Compostela, Anglicans have Canterbury and Hindus have Varanasi, all of which are perfectly charming, I'm sure. Liberal Democrats have Hebden Bridge, the font of cutting-edge campaigning ideas since Tony Greaves was a lad.

I've only been there once, nearly twenty years ago for a LYMEC seminar on Tourism. The sun shone, the Timothy Taylor's Landlord was perfect, and the crazy golf competition between the Young Liberal Democrats and the Young Liberal Movement went our way (make birdies, not war...).

And now I'm on my way back. A bit wiser, perhaps, a bit older, certainly, but back nonetheless.

Last night, Ros and I got to Lancashire, for a meeting with members in Wyre and Preston North. The Local Parties there are working hard to build a more effective campaigning machine, increasing membership and organising action days. We were made to feel really welcome, and we even won some cushions in the raffle.

We stayed overnight with Harold Elletson, whose family home is one of the more remarkable I've encountered. We ate dinner in an Italian restaurant in Preston, where we met up with Andrew, a journalist friend of Harold's, and chatted about the media, Europe and tax policy. It's nice sometimes to talk about ideas. After all, a campaign is meant to be fun too...

Trapped in their ivory tower, or just too genteel to put the boot in?

Ros gets to turn up at the debate, whereas I only get to read the papers afterwards. Not unreasonable, I suppose, and I almost certainly wouldn’t get to read some of the more intriguing documents otherwise. By the way, don’t worry, I don’t get to read anything that isn’t in the public domain! Amongst today’s reading matter for the train journey to Lancaster (hi Mum, I’m on the train!), is the report of the very Select Committee that Ros wrote of earlier.

It is a very well written report, although I do wonder about the fairness of some of the criticism. It is entirely fair to question the effectiveness of the partnership between HM Treasury (HMT) and HM Revenue & Customs (HMRC), a subject on which I have an interest but no direct knowledge. However, the criticism seems to overlook the political dimension, perhaps naively so.

As the Conservatives have become a more credible party of government - not necessarily a more credible party in government, I might add - they have begun to attempt to make the weather on taxation, aided to some extent by the inability of the current administration to identify a consistent political narrative. Generally speaking, George Osborne and his merry men have avoided the difficult task of actually costing their proposals - we are told that this is a work in progress - but the thought that they might care is sufficient to earn ‘brownie points’ with a discontented public.

Labour’s response has smacked of the behaviour of a rather paranoid and hyperactive magpie, regardless of the truth of the matter. It may indeed be the case that many of their responses have been based on pre-existing work being done, but the media, the public and, more worryingly, the professional stakeholders, don’t believe it. It’s all about credibility and tone, and Alastair Darling doesn’t have it at the moment.

Liberal Democrats are good on costings, long on credibility (could we have a better Treasury spokesman than Vince Cable, indeed could anyone?) but short on access to the media - although it’s getting better by the day…

So, with the Conservatives making much of the weather, and Labour doing badly but committed to an economic policy that leans towards a conventionally liberal economic agenda, there has been a temptation to spring tax policy changes for short-term political advantage. And, to be frank, a bunch of whinging accountants and tax lawyers, who probably vote Conservative anyway (a left-wing generalisation, not mine) are less significant than a couple of favourable headlines in the Daily Mail and the Guardian. What price proper consultation under those circumstances?

The abstract of the Report concludes by stating, “Our overall impression from the evidence we received was that this year the formulation of tax policy has been marked by uncertainty of direction.”. Alas, just another sign of intellectual drift in that long-running Westminster farce, “By George, Darling, you’ve lost your trousers!”.

Bones Commission: take a deep breath and count to ten

One supposedly 'friendly' leak to the Times and the Lib Dem blogging community are all a-flutter.

Perhaps we need to get this into perspective. There will be no proposals requiring immediate constitutional change, as promised at the beginning. There will not be a power grab by the Leader, because we would need to be convinced to grant him greater powers anyway (read the constitution, dull but well written).

On the other hand, the Party has such a byzantine structure that power lurks invisibly and unaccountably where one leasts expects it. Bloggers have, for a long time, called for greater clarity, greater democracy and faster decision making. I believe that Bones proposes some ideas that might get us moving in the right direction.

If I have a criticism, it is that the path ahead is insufficiently signposted. What will happen next and where is unclear or, at least, is insufficiently well-publicised. Perhaps Nick could clarify for us? Oh yes, and not by means of a well-placed leak...

Over land and under sea - the campaign goes international!

Having watched Ros hand an award to Eurostar on Tuesday night, Wednesday saw us heading for St Pancras to catch a train to Brussels for an evening garden party at the home of Lawrence Meredith, vice-chair of Brussels and Europe Liberal Democrats.

The Eurostar experience is pretty fantastic, and the journey to the Channel Tunnel passes by in a flash - so much better than the old trundle through Kent. We were picked up at Gare du Midi by Rebecca Taylor, their Chair, who, depsite feeling fairly ghastly (get well soon, Rebecca), made us very welcome.

We then headed over to the event, and immediately ran into John McCormick, who I was shadow assessor to and then Returning Officer for in Wokingham. My past life as a European Returning Officer made for a series of familiar faces, as the Local Party tends to produce a disproportionate number of European Parliamentary candidates, and it was good to see the likes of John Vincent and Peter Welch, both of whom had made special arrangements to be at the event.

Graham Watson came directly from a memorial service to introduce Ros, and made some light-hearted remarks about the Presidential contest before handing over to Ros.

Ros spoke for a few minutes before mingling with those present to talk about a range of issues before we returned to Graham's place in Ixelles for a glass of wine and a chat before bedtime...

The lottery of getting there

Whilst Ros was handing out awards, I was enjoying the company of our table.

Amongst those gathered with Alan Dedicot, the voice of the National Lottery (he was working as the disembodied emcee) and, unexpectedly, Tamsin Dunwoody, recipient of this year's worst political hospital pass. Tamsin was there to collect a posthumous award to her mother, Gwyneth, for services to transport, and was in quite expansive form. I've remarked in the past that the media create very two-dimensional images of people in the news, and Tamsin was not really as I had expected her to be.

Alan was an interesting character too, and was telling us about the Routemaster bus that he and some friends are restoring for use for weddings and such. He couldn't have been surrounded by a more interested group of people if he'd tried...

It's curious, because I generally didn't enjoy these types of events in the past. My capacity for small talk was not great, and I tended to feel a bit isolated. Now, however, I've learned to relax a bit, and go with the flow. As I've discovered, most people tend to feel as I did, and having someone introduce themselves and break the ice makes it rather more enjoyable.

And then there were three - a cat called Franklin

Unfortunately, when you are the owner of a group of increasingly aged cats, the prospect of their demise becomes ever closer. Having already lost Victoria earlier this year to cancer, I had become concerned about Franklin’s health. At nearly 17½, or 85 in ‘human years’, he was becoming something of a geriatric.

And yet the fitting of a catflap gave him a new lease on life. He prowled the garden, as well as those nearby, walked across the top of narrow fences without any evident difficulty, and seemed to be bearing up well, even if he was a mite scrawny. Indeed, Eleanor, his brother (don’t ask, it’s a long story) seemed to be in worse shape.

On Thursday night, I had hosted a meeting of my Local Party Executive, and Franklin took the opportunity to introduce himself, before taking his customary place in his new cat bed (one of Ros’s innovations). He seemed to be reasonably perky but, when I came down the next morning, I found him sprawled across the carpet. Given that no self-respecting cat would ever allow himself to be seen like that unless there was something wrong, it was clear that this was serious. A quick examination made it clear that this was terminal, and with heavy heart I took him to the vet. The lack of response and of movement did not augur well.

The vet quickly reached the same conclusion, and it was agreed that he should be put to sleep without delay. I have sworn that none of my cats will suffer unnecessarily, and whilst putting them to sleep is not something I do lightly, if it is clearly for the best, and the vet agrees, then I won’t hesitate.

I’ll miss Franklin. His company was a comfort to me in some of my darkest moments, and his antics were always entertaining. Let’s just hope that he’s enjoying prowling the celestial garden…

Back to life, back to reality

I've been, in blogging terms at least, drifting a bit of late. The Campaign for a Real President has taken up quite a lot of my time of late, planning trips, acting as a sounding board for Ros and, to be honest, party bureaucracy has begun to pall in terms of its attractiveness...

This weekend saw the campaign trail reach Peasedown St John, in North East Somerset, the new constituency which takes in Wansdyke, the last Labour seat in the county. Our host, Cllr Nathan Hartley, threw a very pleasant event, with good food, great beer and fun company. Ros gave a speech which attracted laughter and interesting questions in good measure, before we retired to the home of Gail Coleshill, the local PPC for the night.

In the morning, we set off for Suffolk, having discovered that, due to the vagaries of rail fares, it was the same fare to travel first class as it would be to travel standard class. I'll return to that at some point...

On Sunday, we had been invited, with a broad cross-section of Suffolk high society, to attend an event to celebrate the first stage of the restoration of the Miller's House at the Pakenham Water Mill. So, we dressed for a Sunday afternoon in the country (floral print for Ros, linen jacket and chinos for me) and drove over to Pakenham. The Chairman of the Board of Trustees, Sue Tamlyn, another of those Suffolk women who, had they been born a century earlier, would have been running a British Residency somewhere in the Empire, made an unexpectedly humourous speech indicating the work that has been put in by the volunteer corps of fundraisers, millers and mechanics who have underpinned the restoration.

We then had an opportunity to see the restored buildings, see wheat being milled into flour (the mill is a working one, and produces high-quality flour for sale in local farmers markets), and admire the millpond and the new flat that has been created as part of the site. In an era when food miles are a middle-class obsession, Pakenham has food yards - you can see the fields of wheat from the mill.

The Board of Trustees then invited us to take afternoon tea, with finger sandwiches and their 'really rather excellent' lemon drizzle cake. The tea was high-quality (and I say that as someone who takes his tea very seriously) and the lemon drizzle cake was, dare I say it, really rather excellent.

This morning, however, it was time to head back to London for the urban bureaucrat. I like to end my Suffolk weekends with a proper breakfast on the train, a luxury I know, but it helps me make the transition from country to city. Today was almost painfully perfect though, with an excellent full English breakfast served by those really rather nice people at National Express East Anglia - "was everything alright, my love?" - and the sun shining as we glided effortlessly through mid-Suffolk and the Stour Valley at Manningtree.

As London drew closer, I began to daydream that the guard had come up to me and said, "I'm terribly sorry, Sir, but we really do feel that you shouldn't go to London today. Don't worry though, we'll put you down at Brentwood and someone will make sure that you get back to Needham Market safe and sound." Sadly, it never happened...