And another thing…

WE NEED fewer MPs, the received wisdom states. David Cameron has suggested that the Commons needs to be reduced by the suspiciously round number of ten per cent. Sir John Baker, former head of the Senior Salaries Review Board, was last week hoping that his call for the number of MPs to be cut by about a third would mitigate his crime of calling for a big payrise for those remaining.

Now today the unpleasant Minette Marin at the Sunday Times is sneering her way through yet another article demanding that the number of MPs is reduced.

To sum up the arguments currently in vogue: everyone hates MPs, so there should be fewer of them. And that’s it.

There may well be arguments in favour of reducing the size of the Commons, but if “we don’t like the ones already there” is the best you can do, then we should just get used to the existing number.

What about actually looking at an MP’s job before deciding we don’t need the current number? How many Statutory Instrument (secondary legislation) committees are held each day the Commons is sitting? How many standing committees, grand committees, select committees?

In constituencies, are electors complaining that MPs hold too many surgeries, or too few? Do they complain about seeing too much of their representatives or too little?

By all means examine the way the Commons operates and decide how many MPs are needed to make it function effectively. But to claim there should be fewer of us because we’re unpopular makes about as much sense as claiming that an appropriate response to the expenses scandal is to introduce proportional representation.

“We have to many politicians!” is the cry. “Look at the American House of Reprsentatives – 435 members representing a population of 250 million.”

Well, yes, but have you seen the staffing numbers for each Congressman? Have you seen how much it costs to run state-level legislatures and state senators’ offices?

If the aim of a reduction is to reduce the cost of politics, think again: fewer MPs means fewer – and bigger – constituencies. Bigger constituencies mean bigger workloads and increased staffing and administrative budgets for MPs.

I’VE JUST returned from a focus group organised by Hansard, looking at the future of communications between the public and parliament. The question of Prime Minister’s Questions was raised briefly, with a general consensus round the table that it did not show the Commons in the best light.

I’m not so sure.

I think politics should be confrontational. That’s why I’m utterly opposed to redesigning the Commons chamber to make it semi-circular, in line with the model used in parts of Europe. If I wanted to hold hands and meditate on what unites me with my opponents I would have entered group therapy, not become an MP. I see nothing wrong with a confrontational aspect to politics. PMQs remains the only vaguely interesting event that parliament produces each week, the only part of the Commons agenda to which TV producers — who, let’s face it, know what their audiences want — are willing to give air time.

Constituents tell us that they respect conviction politicians, yet others will say they want us to be consensual and bi-partisan. Those two views can often be in direct contradiction. When the occasion demands, the Commons can produce moments of clarity and leadership. At other times, we behave like childish schoolboys whose teacher has left the room for five minutes. It’s rough, it’s intimidating, it’s frequently funny and more frequently immature.

That’s why I love it.

THE COMMONS is debating whether or not to allow the UK Youth Parliament to meet in the chamber.

Those who oppose such a move are often painted as old fuddy-duddies, protecting their ancient club membership privileges. And the problem is that many of those arguing against the mover are, in fact, old fuddy-duddies protecting their ancient club membership privileges.

Having said that, even Philip Davies is putting forward some reasonable arguments against the idea. But although I have reservations, I can’t see any real reason to oppose this. The House of Commons is not the same as the chamber at Westminster. It is wherever the 646 MPs choose to meet. So if, as has been suggested, the chamber has to be closed for a long period of time for restoration work to proceed, and we have to meet elsewhere — in the chamber currently used by the Lords, for example — then that chamber will become the House of Commons. Were we to meet across the road in Methodist Central Hall or the QE2 Centre, either of those venues would become the House of Commons.

When it was first inaugurated, the Commons met all over the country, and wasn’t described as a “House” of Commons until it was given its first permanent venue at Westminster by Edward VI. We shouldn’t become too precious about a mere building — iconic though those green benches are — and risk making ourselves look even more elitist and out of touch than we already appear.

IT SEEMS that the PM and Cameron have got the measure of each other; neither struck a killer blow, though for my money, Gordon edged it.

And it is annoying that, when it comes to Cameron’s pre-prepared soundbite – the one he expects the TV networks to use in their package later in the day - he abandons parliamentary protocol (addressing one’s opponent in the third person) and talks directly to the Prime Minister instead of through the Speaker. Last week Michael Martin pulled him up for this, as he did today. As a traditionalist, I’m glad he did. Cameron was getting away with this far too often, though he will no doubt try it again next time.

Having said all that, I thought Cameron’s line about Titian was very funny – somthing along the lines of  “He (GB) spoke of ‘Titian at 90′ – he died when he was 86!”

LOL, as we blogger types say.

SHORTLY after the formation of the Scottish Parliament, I attended a seminar in Edinburgh that was examining the role of the different parties at Holyrood. At one point, a member of the audience asked: “Why do we need partries at all? Why can’t we just have 129 independent MSPs working for their constituents, not their parties?”

Most politicos present sighed at the gentleman’s naivete. Yet it’s an appeal that’s heard all too often, and was heard on this site earlier today. Politicians and others who consider themselves more politically sophisticated than the average member of the general public would do well not to sneer at such suggestions (as I did at the time, I have to confess); the disconnect between electors and elected has never been greater. It is recoverable, but not if we refuse to engage and meet these concerns head on.

Being an “independent” MP is only superficially attractive. Yes, you’re not answerable to party whips, and you can attack, or support, any policy you wish publicly. But if you had 646 independent MPs in the House, and they were suddenly invited to take a position on any given subject, particularly a controversial one, they would line up for or against. And before you knew it – hey, presto! A party system.

And even if that didn’t happen, general elections are not about electing 646 individual MPs to the legislature: they’re about electing a government on a programme laid out in that party’s manifesto. And once elected, those much-maligned whips have the job of making sure enough MPs vote in the right way to enable the executive to govern.

I’ll make another confession: I have not, on every occasion, voted according to my own best judgment. It so happens that on the vast majority of occasions I happen to have agreed with my party and my government on whether a piece of legislation deserves to be supported or not. But there have been a handful of cases when I would rather not have voted a particular way, but did so for the sake of the government and my party (fortunately, so far, I’ve never had to vote for something which I fundamentally opposed in principle, though I don’t rule out that happening one day).

And I did so, not because I would ever put my party above my constituents – if you believe your party’s policies are at odds with your constituents’ best interests then you’re in the wrong party and you’d better do something about it sharpish – but because I believe parties can only govern if their MPs are disciplined. And yes, that often means compromise – but compromise in order to allow other, important things to happen, things that you hope and expect will benefit your and every other MPs’ constituents.

Because politics is a messy business. At its best it can be uplifting and inspiring; at its worst, seedy and self-serving. Most of us find a respectable middle way that allows us to get on with the job and, ultimately, to do good, which is the main motivation for any of us, of all parties and none, to be here at all.

Unfortunately, we can’t all be Mr Smith going to Washington or Westminster. But there is still enough good in the party system to allow any dedicated MP to avoid cynicism and defeatism.

Whatever weaknesses our existing political apparatus has, the party system of itself is not one of them.

UPDATE: Bloody typical! I spend ages rambling on and on and not really getting anywhere, and meanwhile, Hopi Sen writes something on the same general subject but in a much wittier and articulate way. Dammit.

When I first started in this (ministerial) job, I used to joke that if I ever got really stuck at the despatch box with a question I just couldn’t answer, I would simply pretend to faint. Such action isn’t covered in Erskine May, the “Bible” of Commons procedure, after all.

Anyway, I didn’t have to resort to such extreme measures today. Nevertheless, it’s always an incredible relief at the end of questions when the Speaker calls time and we move onto the next business.

“Not fainting”… Tom at the despatch box

Gosh, doesn’t time fly? In just over an hour I’ll be back at the despatch box in the House of Commons answering Transport Questions. Forty-five minutes of questions from the order paper plus supplementaries, followed by 15 minutes of topical questions (a recent innovation that has received mixed reviews).

A huge amount of preparation goes into these events, whatever department you’re a minister in. I head for the Commons with a very impressive red folder, adorned in gold with “ER”, full to the brim with briefings which, frankly, I’m never going to have time to read. Then, at about 2.20pm I’ll head to the area behind the Speaker’s chair where I meet my fellow ministers and my officials, who may or may not have some additional briefing material for me not to read.

Then the Commons division bell sounds to signal the arrival of the Speaker in his procession and those who choose to do so can attend the Chamber for three minutes of prayers. I usually go in for that part on the basis that I need all the help I can get.

Anyway, an hour and 15 minutes to go. So why the hell am I wasting my time blogging when I should be swotting up?!