Skip to main content

Parliament's back in business

Yesterday was the search for perfect answers in an imperfect world.

And real heavyweight stuff. I logged in to the COVID-19 Ctte, of which I am a member, at 0830 and logged off from Parliament broadcasting at 1730. We had two five minute tea breaks and twenty-five minutes for lunch. So about eight and a half hours in front of the cameras.

It's much worse broadcasting from your own home studio than being in Parliament. Why? In Committee rooms, you can see where the cameras are pointing and you can see which is "active" by looking at the monitors. So if the irresistible need to scratch your nose arrises there, you can pick your moment, confident that it ain't going to be broadcast.

At Westminster, it's been some time since they started televising proceedings. One of those who vociferously resisted the move was Tam Dalyell. His reservations were wholly justified when he was seen picking his nose. Or so I have been told. Never saw it myself.

Now given that the Westminster authorities have strict rules about the shots that may be used. It must have been a "wide shot" of the whole chamber. A close up of a non-participant ain't allowed there.

In the Scottish Parliament, there will be "cut-aways" to show members' reactions to whoever may be speaking. So that risk is there. Only one rule - "in the Chamber" equals "in a TV studio". All the time.

But it's not just visual risks. Although it won't be broadcast, it's as well to remember that the Presiding Officer, who sits down at the front can hear a conversation that is taking place on the back row, even at a normal conversational volume. The acoustics of the Chamber throw voices very effectively from the back to the front. Paradoxically that doesn't happen in the centre. But then the PO can see you are gossiping. In either event, he or she may choose to comment on the activity; to issue a "cease and desist" order from the chair.

In one's home studio there is only one camera, so anything out of shot is just that, "out of shot". The broadcasters in Parliament will switch one's camera and microphone off and on, and one can see they have done so. But one has no idea what shots are actually being transmitted. The camera is on most of the time—so very limited opportunity to relax.

There is a little "chat" box. We now use that for voting in Committee. But we can also, hidden from the public but visible to all who are "signed in", exchange messages.

In my previous "computing" career, we had loads of TLAs. That means "Three Letter Acronyms". And "TLA" is a TLA.

The new courtesies of online Parliament have introduced a couple of new ones. The first is "AFD" which is preferably followed by something like "abt 3 mins". It means "Away from Desk" and suggests that nothing be broadcast showing an empty chair. Hint: don't fall out with the TV folk.

Upon return type "BCK", not strictly a TLA but an abbreviation. It means I am back.

Being in front of a camera for more than eight hours is surprisingly exhausting. Even though my on-the-record words during the day were no more than about 1,300, I had to vote about three dozen times and to have listened carefully to the preceding debate before doing so.

Constant engagement in a complex and novel process. Novel? It was the first time a Committee has sat in session by dial-in and debated and concluded the amendment of a Bill. Even when we are all in the same room, it is an activity which requires constant attention and engagement.

The connection for one member switched off for a couple of minutes. A Minister's microphone refused to cooperate briefly. And there was a fire alarm in Parliament which stopped us for a short while. A pretty standard day at the office.

Our Convenor knew he was breaking new ground. And had clearly prepared himself for the occasion extremely well. It went as he would have wished. Indeed better than some "in-person" meetings to discuss amendments. So, and this is something I expect to say but rarely, "Well done Murdo Fraser".

In terms of the subject matter of the debates, there were 56 proposed amendments to the Coronavirus (Scotland) (No.2) Bill. There were 28 votes with the Government prevailing on 22 occasions, the opposition on six. That's minority Government for you.

As is often the case, the preparation that had gone into a few of the amendments was risibly poor. And, more critically, while long-serving members like Jackie Baillie had taken their proposed amendments to Ministers for discussion, and gained something for her point of view in return, others failed to seek that opportunity and lost out.

It is almost as if some MSPs want to lose the vote so that they can girn on Twitter afterwards.

Yes, you've spotted it. My supply of patience runs out before the time does.

Others spoke on relatively straightforward issues where there was every prospect of consensus, at such length as to almost encourage a vote against them as an act of revenge. Almost but not quite.

But if I have a mild grump, that's nothing.

Amendments for today's debate had to be in by 0930 this morning. And yesterday in Committee I heard the minister make several commitments to work with members to refine their proposals into a more implementable form.

I translate that into meaning that quite a few several civil servants and Ministers may have to be up all night doing precisely that.

I had been scheduled to speak this afternoon, but the number of amendments is such as to cut our backbench speakers from five to two.

I am away to embrace the sofa. If only. Rural Committee starts shortly.

Parliament's back in business.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Eric Liddell Centre Burns Supper

Welcome to the world of Robert Burns. 558 pieces of writing over a couple of decades, around 400,000 words in total. Not all of it in Scots. Some of it, as his “Grace Before Dinner” illustrates, in English; O thou who kindly dost provide For every creature's want! We bless Thee, God of Nature wide, For all Thy goodness lent: And if it please Thee, Heavenly Guide, May never worse be sent; But, whether granted, or denied, Lord, bless us with content. Amen! Thank you indeed to those who tonight did provide. Some of Burns’ writings, recorded for us long-standing folk songs. An educated man who studied French, Latin and mathematics. Not a rich man, not a poor man; when he died he left the equivalent in today’s money about £40,000. And a man known to this day as a father whose children had many mothers. Every woman in Edinburgh and many beyond seemed to want to explore what he kept in his trousers. Indeed on the very day of his funeral, his last child was born. Burns

Masking time

My spouse has just brought to my attention an interview conducted by Jon Snow on Channel 4 last night. Carefully probing two professors about the flare-up of the coronavirus in Leicester, he let science lead the discussion. That picks up on my writings yesterday about the need for good quality, non-political advice closely available to political decision-makers. Young Jon Snow, he's nearly a year younger than me, is a cool head in a crisis. When I've met him, I have been impressed by his listening skills, his ability to pick the necessary essence of what's been said by his interviewee and test it. What struck me quite quickly was a coincidence of name. One the founders of modern epidemiology was John Snow. He was a physician who conducted a statistical analysis of cholera infection and linked it to a contaminated water supply. Famously the street water pump in Soho was disabled in 1854 and within three days cases dropped off. A further pointer to water being the pro

No pigtail after all

For the first Saturday in a normal recess, it would be routine to report that nothing had happened. But not so. The post-session recovery that generally occupies the first few days has yet to start. And indeed, is required more than usual. Since being elected nineteen years ago, I have had no May and June months with as many Parliamentary Committee meetings. A bit less speaking in the Chamber certainly, but it's Committee work that takes the real effort. In this past week, it has been well over three hundred pages of briefings to read. And to understand. There are those, not merely people who hope for a remunerated retirement to what Jim Hacker of TV series "Yes Minister" referred to as a home for vegetables-otherwise known as the House of Lords, who regret our not having a second house for our Parliament. Worth noting that over two-thirds of the world's legislatures are single Chamber like us. And a large part of those that do, only have one because ex-colonies