Vince Cable himself has today hit out at the potential effect of the Telegraph's sting operation on the relationship between MPs and constituents (or not constituents, as the suspicion may now often be). MPs' surgeries are the embodiment of a key element of British democracy - the close relationship between representative and the represented, a relationship founded on core principles of openness and accountability.
Less than 8 months after Stephen Timms was stabbed by a woman who wanted to kill him for voting for the Iraq war, MPs have yet more reason to believe that they can no longer trust, in a personal encounter, those whom they serve and upon whose support their career depends.
Mr Cable may be seen to be speaking through a mouthful of sour grapes, but his choice of his constituency newspaper to defend the rights and responsibilities of local MPs is no accident - the response is aimed at the media and society at large, but it is addressed to his constituents.
I have witnessed first-hand the importance to MPs of the relationship to local people - in most cases at least, it is genuinely about more than simply keeping them onside. Serving the public is a primary motivation for many, and any attempt to jeopardise their freedom to fulfil this - all in the name of cheap political points, a turn in the national spotlight and a short-lived boost in sales - may well hit home hard in the days, weeks and months to come.
I haven't even touched on the ethics of fabricating child-benefit cases. But it is a comparison with Mr Timms's experience that puts all of this into the sharpest perspective of all.
Thursday, 23 December 2010
Wednesday, 22 December 2010
Oh How the Mighty Fall
Over the past few years, Vince Cable has nurtured a considerable reputation not only for economic expertise and political skill, but – fundamentally – for personal integrity. Within the course of less than a week, that reputation has been drastically undermined.
But he is not the only one who should learn to watch his step in the light of this latest media frenzy.
Which revelations am I referring to? His warning that if he were to leave, the government would be critically damaged and even brought down? Of course not – that’s merely a sound political judgement and a view shared by many an experienced commentator.
That isn’t to say that the real crux of his blunder did not make such a comment grimly ironic. After all, to tell a complete stranger in a routine (albeit confidential) meeting that he had “declared war” on Rupert Murdoch and ‘thought he was going to win’ does raise serious questions about both his judgement as a politician and his ability – essential to being a Cabinet minister – to make objective, dispassionate decisions.
Mr Cable assured his guest that he had not sunk to the level of ‘politicising’ the issue of News Corp’s takeover of BSkyB “because it was a commercial matter”. He may reflect that by declaring a personal vendetta on Mr Murdoch, he had plumbed even greater depths.
He would be right. Mr Cable’s outburst hints at a naivety and even arrogance as a minister that some may portray as being typical of a Liberal Democrat party still revelling in the warm glow of power that had seemed improbable just 9 months ago.
However, not least because of his own view of his role in the coalition, he could not and should not be sacked.
That’s because doing so would rob the Cabinet of a man who – squeaky-clean or otherwise – is nothing short of an intellectual powerhouse. One failure of judgement exposed by dubious journalistic methods is, in the cold light of day, not sufficient justification to pull down such a key pillar of this new-build government.
Instead, an under-reported aspect of this latest controversy is the further evidence it provides of the lengths to which journalists and editors, in the press in particular, are prepared to go in order to get a story. These kinds of under-hand, ‘sting’ tactics are becoming depressingly commonplace in 21st-century news media (the very same industry that some say is at stake in the News Corp saga).
It is rapidly reaching the point at which nothing a politician or any other public figure says or does, no matter how candid the environment, is ever sure to remain private. And the stakes are getting higher, with the careers of everyone from sports stars to government ministers being put in jeopardy for the sake of briefly interrupting the inevitable long-term patterns of dwindling sales and growing media diversification.
Gordon Brown’s ‘bigot-gate’ slip in the election campaign may have been largely his own fault – the microphone in his case wasn’t exactly hidden – but it seems to have inspired a wave of stories derived from secret recordings that carry the unmistakeable whiff of scandal that hacks find impossible to resist.
But for the sake of the dignity and integrity of their own trade (Murdoch-controlled or otherwise) – rather than those they pursue – they must.
But he is not the only one who should learn to watch his step in the light of this latest media frenzy.
Which revelations am I referring to? His warning that if he were to leave, the government would be critically damaged and even brought down? Of course not – that’s merely a sound political judgement and a view shared by many an experienced commentator.
That isn’t to say that the real crux of his blunder did not make such a comment grimly ironic. After all, to tell a complete stranger in a routine (albeit confidential) meeting that he had “declared war” on Rupert Murdoch and ‘thought he was going to win’ does raise serious questions about both his judgement as a politician and his ability – essential to being a Cabinet minister – to make objective, dispassionate decisions.
Mr Cable assured his guest that he had not sunk to the level of ‘politicising’ the issue of News Corp’s takeover of BSkyB “because it was a commercial matter”. He may reflect that by declaring a personal vendetta on Mr Murdoch, he had plumbed even greater depths.
He would be right. Mr Cable’s outburst hints at a naivety and even arrogance as a minister that some may portray as being typical of a Liberal Democrat party still revelling in the warm glow of power that had seemed improbable just 9 months ago.
However, not least because of his own view of his role in the coalition, he could not and should not be sacked.
That’s because doing so would rob the Cabinet of a man who – squeaky-clean or otherwise – is nothing short of an intellectual powerhouse. One failure of judgement exposed by dubious journalistic methods is, in the cold light of day, not sufficient justification to pull down such a key pillar of this new-build government.
Instead, an under-reported aspect of this latest controversy is the further evidence it provides of the lengths to which journalists and editors, in the press in particular, are prepared to go in order to get a story. These kinds of under-hand, ‘sting’ tactics are becoming depressingly commonplace in 21st-century news media (the very same industry that some say is at stake in the News Corp saga).
It is rapidly reaching the point at which nothing a politician or any other public figure says or does, no matter how candid the environment, is ever sure to remain private. And the stakes are getting higher, with the careers of everyone from sports stars to government ministers being put in jeopardy for the sake of briefly interrupting the inevitable long-term patterns of dwindling sales and growing media diversification.
Gordon Brown’s ‘bigot-gate’ slip in the election campaign may have been largely his own fault – the microphone in his case wasn’t exactly hidden – but it seems to have inspired a wave of stories derived from secret recordings that carry the unmistakeable whiff of scandal that hacks find impossible to resist.
But for the sake of the dignity and integrity of their own trade (Murdoch-controlled or otherwise) – rather than those they pursue – they must.
Friday, 10 December 2010
A Day of Modern British Political Theatre
Yesterday was one of those extraordinary days that few in politics will forget for a very long time. The lucidity and intellectual passion of the speeches inside the Palace of Westminster more than matched by the fervour and barely contained aggression of the protesters outside in the Square, the unique theatre of a big Commons vote contrasting with scenes of stand-off on the streets that we are no less accustomed to seeing.
It was like these two simultaneous dramas were competing for prevalence, vying for the coveted spots at the top of the late evening news bulletins and on the next day’s front pages, as if those dubious accolades were as significant as the political outcome at the heart of it all.
The events of the evening – long after the Chamber had emptied, the business of Parliament had moved on and ministers had breathed their sighs of relief – ensured that there could only be one winner in the media stakes. Few, however, were celebrating.
For the protesters, it was a shocking culmination of a day that did nothing to endear students of all ages to the wider, tax-paying public. For the Met Police, it was a distraction from the earlier failures of both crowd and self control that have become depressingly characteristic; but not one they would have chosen. For the politicians, it was a graphic illustration of the sheer strength of feeling their actions had aroused.
Another subtle conflict that has raged throughout the weeks of protests concerns the primary motivation and target for the students’ anger. Many seem unable to decide whether their main object of resentment is the policy itself – the responsibility chiefly of the Conservatives, who have long supported the idea and who embraced the Browne report most enthusiastically – or the U-turn by Nick Clegg and the rest of the Lib Dems on their infamous pre-election pledge.
We may have to wait until the next election to find out for sure. Labour, however, are taking no chances. When asked whether he would promise to reverse the decision if in power, Ed Miliband’s response was effectively to say ‘my only pledge is not to make any pledges’.
Such a response must be a source of frustration for a man accused of inaction, indecision and even anonymity, but he is acutely aware that this episode has once again critically impaired the public’s willingness to trust the word of politicians.
David Cameron has also been seen to be largely steering clear of this potentially personally damaging brouhaha, at least until his input was absolutely necessary – namely, PMQs on the day before the vote. This has led to suggestions that he is consciously offering up Clegg and Vince Cable – two senior Cabinet ministers – as the fall guys for this policy.
This may be a cynical and scathing verdict, but is a far less problematic outcome for the Prime Minister than having himself tarred with the same traitorous brush. Indeed, of all the groups that could revolt against the government’s austerity (in its various guises), there are many, much tougher foes for the government to overcome than a bunch of rowdy college and university students, inexperienced in this kind of battle.
The NUS and its troops insisted yesterday that their race is far from run, and with more parliamentary showdowns required to finish the job of implementing the complete package – accompanied, no doubt, by more street stand-offs – they are not wrong.
Perhaps they should leave the royals out of it next time, though.
It was like these two simultaneous dramas were competing for prevalence, vying for the coveted spots at the top of the late evening news bulletins and on the next day’s front pages, as if those dubious accolades were as significant as the political outcome at the heart of it all.
The events of the evening – long after the Chamber had emptied, the business of Parliament had moved on and ministers had breathed their sighs of relief – ensured that there could only be one winner in the media stakes. Few, however, were celebrating.
For the protesters, it was a shocking culmination of a day that did nothing to endear students of all ages to the wider, tax-paying public. For the Met Police, it was a distraction from the earlier failures of both crowd and self control that have become depressingly characteristic; but not one they would have chosen. For the politicians, it was a graphic illustration of the sheer strength of feeling their actions had aroused.
Another subtle conflict that has raged throughout the weeks of protests concerns the primary motivation and target for the students’ anger. Many seem unable to decide whether their main object of resentment is the policy itself – the responsibility chiefly of the Conservatives, who have long supported the idea and who embraced the Browne report most enthusiastically – or the U-turn by Nick Clegg and the rest of the Lib Dems on their infamous pre-election pledge.
We may have to wait until the next election to find out for sure. Labour, however, are taking no chances. When asked whether he would promise to reverse the decision if in power, Ed Miliband’s response was effectively to say ‘my only pledge is not to make any pledges’.
Such a response must be a source of frustration for a man accused of inaction, indecision and even anonymity, but he is acutely aware that this episode has once again critically impaired the public’s willingness to trust the word of politicians.
David Cameron has also been seen to be largely steering clear of this potentially personally damaging brouhaha, at least until his input was absolutely necessary – namely, PMQs on the day before the vote. This has led to suggestions that he is consciously offering up Clegg and Vince Cable – two senior Cabinet ministers – as the fall guys for this policy.
This may be a cynical and scathing verdict, but is a far less problematic outcome for the Prime Minister than having himself tarred with the same traitorous brush. Indeed, of all the groups that could revolt against the government’s austerity (in its various guises), there are many, much tougher foes for the government to overcome than a bunch of rowdy college and university students, inexperienced in this kind of battle.
The NUS and its troops insisted yesterday that their race is far from run, and with more parliamentary showdowns required to finish the job of implementing the complete package – accompanied, no doubt, by more street stand-offs – they are not wrong.
Perhaps they should leave the royals out of it next time, though.
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