“Scotland’s Parliament: Triumph and Disaster” by Brian Taylor of the BBC - A Review

There is an end of term feeling about in the Scottish Parliament. And Brian Taylor, Scotland’s doyen of television political analysts, has sought to write a report card.

But I find myself asking where one can feel the Parliament’s pulse. Is it in the Chamber, in the canteen, the black & white corridor, with the Executive at Victoria Quay or in Deacon Brodie’s?

For despite the number of journalists who swim symbiotically in our political sea with MSPs, I suspect that much of the truth remains hidden, even from Brian.

Is the relationship between politicians and journalists is based on trust and understanding? Journalists failing to understand politicians, and politicians distrusting journalists. Or is it the other way around? Is Brian the exception?

With public view of Parliament and politicians more influenced by what they read and hear through the lens of a journalist than by actual contact with day to day politics, the likes of Brian must be listened to with care.

So it is disappointing that he does not seem to have travelled far below the surface in his analysis. Of those seeking the levers of power yes, but the Parliament no.

In his book he brings new insights into the thinking of the players in government. And those who would replace them from both Executive and Opposition benches.

But as to Parliament, and how it might differ from what went before, Brian writes more as one who observes from the surface rather than as a Jacques Cousteau with an acqualung and swimming deep in the salty seas of the Mound.

And what would he have seen and who would he have met if he had actually dived in?

At the National Library of Scotland there are attracted a substantially larger group of MSPs than the usual evening event. Even the First Minister was seen relaxed and tie-less after what had been a very difficult day. The majority of them paid for the privilege albeit that they were offered a discount.

For this as the launch of his book. For the Edinburgh University Press, the first welcome clink of a cash register as eager members bought the book so they could turn instantly to the index to find their entry.

If that was their sole motivation for buying, many would be disappointed. A bare majority, sixty five from 129, bear mention and many only by association with the parliamentary equivalent of the ‘rich & famous’.

Because this is a history the new Scottish government more than of the Parliament. More a history of ‘Kings and noblemen’ than a social history in the mould of T.C. Smout et al.

But absence from the index should not deter ‘omitted members’. I speak as one who like the other 63 or so has apparently made no impact. And I thought that my establishing a committee of ladies to campaign with me for Peterhead Prison and overturning a key Executive policy in the process would earn me my place in the sun.

Perhaps Brian has not forgiven me for inviting Alex Salmond to join my campaigners in Aberdeen when they handed in their petition. But at least my ensuring one of the ‘noblemen’ of Scottish politics played an active part in the campaign earned it a short mention in the book.

Taking the book on its merits uncovers a few new stories and confirms Brian Taylor’s position as the Scottish media’s ‘man inside’. Time and again he seems to get under the skin of senior Scottish politicians and shows us how they think.

His collaboration with Alex Salmond, yes him again, in writing up a disgraceful attempted smeer campaign during the 1999 election shows some of the dilemmas faced by people in public life. His description of the McLeish troubles shows an empathy with those who hold public office.

But his lens always seems to focus on government rather than parliament. His excursion into considering committee activity makes this point.

John McAllion gets a well-deserved pat on the back for his stewardship of the Public Petitions Committee. But of its success in providing a door through which civic and individual Scotland can engage with Parliament little is written. We read of a serial and ‘vexacious’ petitioner but nothing of contributions made to policy changes through petition.

The game is finally given away in ‘The Uncivil Service?’ chapter. Four pages, 1% of the book, present a distinctly cool response to the Committee system. And the analysis doesn’t suggest that the author has wasted much time sitting on the press benches listening to its work.

No mention of the forensic analysis by Justice One Committee of the Prison Service’s Estates Review. It set a standard to which others, in the Scottish Parliament and Westminster, should aspire. And on a controversial subject, delivered unanimity across the political divide by listening to the evidence.

In ‘A Question of Money’, Brian is more comfortable and better informed. Indeed there will be few better analyses of the different and evolving views of parties in our parliament. He provides a benchmark against which the evolution of this debate can be measured.

But ultimately for me, the unanswered questions frustrate. Does the existence of coalition government shift power away from the executive towards the Parliament? Or does the structure and practices achieve that? Or have we replicated the ‘absolute’ power which resides in government at Westminster?

In the end, MSPs who put down their money for this book, and who queued up to have Brian Taylor sign their copy, will not find their trust in his writing, in his ability to tell a story, misplaced. And it is written in a way accessible to sell in a market place beyond the incestuous bounds of the Mound.

Whether readers will feel that the story is about Scotland’s Parliament rather than Scotland’s government is more open to question.