ON THE way out of the House of Commons chamber following Prime Minister’s Questions this afternoon, David Cameron said to Ed Balls across the despatch box: “You were quiet today!”
Nothing ususual with that, you might say. After all, Ed has been known, occasionally, to have been rather – shall we say, enthusiastic? – in his support for the PM at these sessions. And today he wasn’t, hence Dave’s remark.
What was unusual about the quip is that twenty minutes earlier, as Dave was getting his backside roundly kicked up and down the gangway by the Clunking Fist, he responded to Labour heckles by pointing to Ed and shouting: “It is not just Back Benchers, Mr. Speaker – the Secretary of State for Children, Schools and Families is up to his old tricks again!”
Now, given that Ed had deliberately avoided twitching a muscle as he sat there on the Treasury bench, this was unexpected. And Cameron’s words at the end of the encounter confirmed that even Dave knew Ed had been on his best behaviour.
So why did the ‘Leader’ of the Opposition accuse the Children’s Secretary of being “up to his old tricks again”?
Simples: it was written down on the notes in front of him.
It didn’t matter that the accusation was falsely made – the TV audience would simply have assumed Ed was mooning him or whatever. It was on Dave’s notes, so he had to say it, regardless of whether it was justified.
Prime Minister-in-waiting, eh?
EVERY now and again MPs are asked by charities and other groups to wear something at PMQs to signify their support for a particular cause. This usually means a ribbon or lapel badge. Once a number of women MPs turned up wearing ostentatious hats in support of (I think) Macmillan Cancer Relief.
As in so many other areas of life, I adopt the Ebeneezer Scrooge philosophy and generally don’t indulge such requests.
For a start, I’m not a great lapel badge wearer. The only thing I insist on wearing each year is a poppy (English or Scottish – it makes no difference to me). It’s a bit like my attitude to stickers on cars: I’m generally agin them.
Over on Twitter there’s a perfectly sensible and well-meaning campaign to persuade MPs to wear green in the Commons next Wednesday in support of the Iranian reformers who may or may not have had the election stolen from them.
As I say, it’s a perfectly worthy cause. But I object to attempts to persuade MPs to show some visible sign of support because then the assumption might be made that those who choose not to wear green don’t support the cause, when in fact the truth is that they just don’t want to wear green.
Secondly, what happens when more than one charity or worthy cause competes for exposure during parliament’s most-watched 30 minutes? How do you choose between them? What reason do you give for choosing to "snub" one and support the other?
Thirdly, and for me the most important reason, PMQs is supposed to be a serious event at which the leader of the country is held accountable to parliament (cue inevitable shouts of "Brown never answers questions… tractor statistics," etc). It is not an occasion where members sport the latest fashionable cause or label, like a downmarket and less glamorous Ascot.
MPs should be present in the chamber either because they want to witness the proceedings, take part in them by asking a question, support their side, shout or heckle the other side, or Twitter their observations to a breathlessly excited outside world.
But if the sole purpose of being there at midday on a Wednesday is simply to be
Now, I’m extremely well aware of how pompous that makes me sound. And I have a feeling that whoever wins the Speakership on Monday will be sufficiently "modernising" to embrace all manner of new practices in the chamber. Michael Martin was known to frown on the practice I’ve just opined against, but I wouldn’t be surprised if his successor thought that such ideas should be encouraged as a way of "engaging" the world beyond Westminster.
Hmm.
From this particular traditionalist’s perspective, that’s only a short step from having MPs sponsored by double glazing firms and brands of lager.
Humbug!
I QUITE enjoyed Prime Minister’s Questions today. Gordon made the most of Andrew Lansley’s latest gaffe on Tory spending plans and it was interesting to watch the angry reactions of the benches opposite.
Apparently, the Tories aren’t committed to a ten per cent across-the-board cut in departmental budgets, Cameron seemed to suggest in response. And yet here’s what Lansley actually said:
We are going to increase the resources for the NHS, we are going to increase resources for international development aid, we are going to increase resources for schools. But that does mean over three years, after 2011, a ten per cent reduction in the departmental expenditure limits for other departments. It is a very tough spending requirement indeed.
Now, however you want to justify or dress this up, if it looks like a cut and walks like a cut, you know something? It’s a cut (memo to self: check the spelling on that last sentence very carefully before publishing).
After his last gaffe, claiming that the recession might be good for our health, I’m not surprised the Shadow Health Secretary was absent from the front bench today.
UPDATE at 7.25 pm: CoservativeHome have said this about Lansley’s latest intervention:
The Tory leader’s office is “furious” with Andrew Lansley for a second episode of what they described as “loose talk”. The afternoon’s operation – putting things right – has been impressive but Andrew Lansley was, to put it politely, casual in his way of describing the current Tory spending strategy. His first ‘gaffe’ was a year ago to The Times. David Cameron has promised that Mr Lansley will be his Public Health Secretary and has been called “unsackable” as a result. The Tory leader has a very high opinion of Andrew Lansley’s understanding of health issues and the respect he has won from NHS employees. My leader’s office source did tell me, however, “no one is unsackable”. “He will not be forgiven another gaffe.”
MY MOMENT had come at last.
Basically, if you haven’t been called in PMQs since the official opening of the current parliament (December), then your chances of being called, provided you do the whole bobbing up and down bit, increase each week. And so it proved:
A business woman who owns a runs a small manufacturing company in my constituency came to see me last week to complain about the attitude of the banks when it comes to lending to businesses such as hers. Does the Prime Minister understand that public support for the banking bail-out will entirely evaporate unless the banks are seen once again to be lending to the small and medium-sized companies on which our economy depends?
I don’t even have to check Hansard to know that’s a pretty accurate account of what I said; that’s what happens when you’ve rehearsed a question for as long as I did.
And I was pleased with the PM’s response: it was specific and convincing.
So that’s that with the bobbing thing. No point, because I’ll be back down at the bottom of the list next week. The only way I’ll get called in the near future is if I get on the order paper. I put my name in every week, like hundreds of others, but haven’t appeared on it once in the last six months.
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.
HOW telling that Dave chose to make a cheap, sneering political point about “planted questions” before echoing the Prime Minister’s tribute to our fallen troops. I could be wrong, but I don’t think that has ever happened before. Shameful.
UPDATE @ 1227: I’m grateful to Labourboy for pointing me in the direction of Hansard from 23 April 2008, when Dave’s first comments to the House were these:
Mr. David Cameron (Witney) (Con): I think that we should call this session Prime Minister’s U-turns rather than Prime Minister’s questions. I join the Prime Minister in paying tribute to Senior Aircraftman Graham Livingstone and Senior Aircraftman Gary Thompson, who were killed in Afghanistan on Sunday 13 April, and to Trooper Robert Pearson, who was killed on Monday. The whole country owes them a great debt of gratitude.
I’m sorry, I don’t care how much you hate the Labour Party or Gordon Brown, but surely no-one is going to excuse Do-Nothing making political points ahead of paying tribute to our troops? Surely…?
ALTHOUGH absent from the Commons during yesterday’s Prime Minister’s Questions, I can understand the hyperventilating and hysteria that followed Gordon’s “I saved the world” slip of the tongue.
And no-one believes it was anything other than a slip of the tongue. All this nonsense about it revealing GB’s real thoughts is infantile twaddle.
And let’s face it – now and again, all senior politicians inadvertently say things they don’t mean: didn’t David Cameron say recently that he was a supporter of the NHS? (Boom, boom! I’m here all week – try the veal…)
Meanwhile, check out the front page of the new issue of Total Politics magazine, due out next week. Top shelf material, from the look of the cover.
I FEEL sorry for the Welsh, but only because Welsh Questions took place immediately before PMQs and the hubbub from the crowded chamber drowned out anyone trying to get a word in.
But on to PMQs. Sir Peter Tapsell kicked things off. Known as “Goldfinger”, he usually asks about gold reserves but made some silly attack on GB on the economy. GB swatted him aside effectively.
Then Do-Nothing had a go on the VAT rise that never happened. I do think his pained, injured expression is getting a bit tired. At 12.08 our side noticed that the benches behind Do-Nothing were remarkably quiet and unresponsive during his rant (I lost count of how many questions he had asked by then, on account of them all sounding the same).
Do-Nothing’s “Enron” jibe was a bit laboured but went down well on his side. “He’s been found out and New Labour’s dead!” he shouted before sitting down, red-faced and exhausted. The clunking fist swatted this aside. A very sure-footed performance from him, which went down well on our side (shouts of “more” have become more frequent from our aide recently).
Verdict on Clegg: he did that creepy thing with his hand again (how long before he starts getting called “The Claw”?) and started banging on about “fairness”. And possibly kittens as well, but I had stopped listening by then. He really is massively ineffective in the House, even when he’s saying something sensible (not all that often, to be fair).
My Glasgow colleague, Ian Davidson, made a typically funny and class-ridden comment about “rich kids” who “just don’t get it”, before Brooks Newmark stole the show by asking the PM to name one western country with greater debt than the UK. “America,” said Gordon, curtly, before sitting down to a roar of approval from Labour MPs. Probably the highlight of the session.
Final score: Gordon – 8, Cameron – 5, Clegg – who?
IT’S BEEN more than two years since I last contributed at Prime Minister’s Questions. Since I’ll be spending most of the next three weeks in Glenrothes, I figured today was as good a day as any to get back on the horse, as it were.
However long you’ve been in the House, there is no more daunting a prospect than asking a PMQ from the back benches (okay, geographically, the bench where I normally sit is a front bench, but it’s not the front bench). The House is really only packed during this half hour on Wednesdays, and you know that if you screw up, every member of the House – as well as the dozens of people watching at home – will see you do it.
I hadn’t tabled a question for today’s session, so my name wasn’t on the order paper. Had it been, and had I been among the first eight or ten on the list, I could have reasonably expected to be called by the Speaker. But when you’re not on the order paper and you still want to ask a question, your only option is to bob up and down in between questions and answers and hope to catch the Speaker’s eye. And that’s what happened today. As soon as William Hague (standing in for Cameron) had used up all his questions and Harriet (standing in for GB) had answered, the Speaker called out: “Tom Harris”.
There may well be some colleagues who can think spontaneously in such circumstances and who don’t feel at all intimidated by the frenzied atmosphere of the Commons on these occasions. I am not one of them. This morning I wrote, then re-wrote my question, printed it out and then spent the whole of Northern Ireland Questions (the half hour immediately before PMQs today) memorizing it and repeating it silently to myself over and over again.
And when I stood up, I was still conscious of feeling unbelievably nervous. It took some time for the noisy reaction to the Harriet/Hague altercation to dissipate, and I had to attempt the start of my question twice. But I knew that when colleagues from both sides of the House heard the subject matter – the absence of a national memorial to the 55,000 members of RAF Bomber Command who died in World War II – the noise would abate. And it did, and I did okay. I think.
Glad to get it over with, though.
PICTURE UPDATE at 11.43 pm: