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Urgent Questions

Professor David Judge

DAVID JUDGE

Professor David Judge is Professor Emeritus of Politics at the University of Strathclyde. He is the author of The Parliamentary State (SAGE).

Please tell us a little bit about how you entered academia and your academic career

I had no great plans to become an academic. My career progression was often down to happenstance. The first chance occurrence was the decision taken by my history teacher, in my last year at school, to trial a one-year A-level politics class (then entitled British Constitution). This led me to study politics at undergraduate level at Exeter, which was chosen for no other reason than its geographical location. From there I went on to do my PhD at Sheffield on the basis of fortuitous circumstances leading to the award of an SSRC (precursor of the ESRC) grant. My first academic job followed two years later when I was appointed as a lecturer at a Scottish Central Institution in Paisley (now part of The University of the West of Scotland). Only a series of chance events and serendipitous timings within a very short period led to my move to Scotland. After 14 years at Paisley, again by chance and unforeseen, I was offered a job seven miles down the road at Strathclyde in Glasgow.

All of this might appear to be a seamless progression, driven by chance and luck, but I wouldn’t have had an academic career or become a professor had it not been for the decisive interventions of several people.

Which five books/articles (written by someone else) have been most important to you in your academic career?

A. H. Birch, Representative and Responsible Government.

C. B. Macpherson, The Life and Times of Liberal Democracy.

Ralph Miliband, Capitalist Democracy in Britain.

Hanna Pitkin, The Concept of Representation.

Jeremy Richardson and Grant Jordan, Governing Under Pressure.

Which people have been most influential and important to you in your academic career?

Without turning this into something resembling an Oscar Awards acceptance speech, I have to acknowledge upfront the influence of two remarkably influential women in my life. The first was my mother: she knew the value of education long before I did. The other is my wife: she knows the importance of life beyond the world of academia.

Within the world of academia three mentors offered pivotal support and direction at crucial stages of my career. The first was Michael Rush at Exeter who led me to take parliament seriously as an institution and was instrumental in facilitating the start of my PhD studies. The second was Stuart Walkland at Sheffield, who, as my PhD supervisor, provided me with the freedom to follow my own ideas along paths he wouldn’t have followed himself. The third was Jeremy Richardson at Strathclyde who offered me a job at a ‘critical juncture’ in my career, and who was instrumental in my career progression thereafter. There have been a host of other people with whom I’ve collaborated over the years and who have been important in enabling me to co-produce publications in areas well beyond parliamentary studies, such as The Politics of Industrial Closure, A Green Dimension for the European Community, and Theories of Urban Politics. In particular,David Earnshaw (who has a ‘proper job’ in Brussels) was a brilliant co-conspirator and co-author for nearly 20 years on matters concerning the European Parliament; and, since my ‘retirement’, working with Cristina Leston-Bandeira has been both a productive and pleasurable experience in grappling with fundamental issues concerning ‘institutional representation’ and ‘why legislatures matter’.

Which of your own pieces of research are you most proud of?

Proud isn’t the right word, but the books I most wanted to write – for my own satisfaction if for no-one else’s – were The Parliamentary State (Sage, 1993) and Democratic Incongruities (Palgrave Macmillan, 2014).

What has been your greatest achievement in academia?

Not getting sacked. Fortunately, senior managers at Strathclyde showed remarkable forbearance when I felt obliged, on many occasions as the Head of the Department of Government, ‘to speak truth to power’.

What has been your greatest disappointment in academia?

Not getting sacked.

What is the first or most important thing you tell your students about parliaments?

The first thing: many political scientists don’t take parliaments seriously; and most members of the public don’t hold parliaments in high regard.

Where were you born, where did you grow up, and where do you live now?

I was born in Jessop Hospital in Sheffield. I grew up on a Sheffield council estate and went to a comprehensive school (at a time when only 7 per cent of children in England went to such schools). My dad was unapologetically working class. My mother was equally unapologetic in her belief that her kids should, through the force of education, not remain working class.

So, although now objectively middle class by profession, I still retain something resembling a Sheffield accent and still cling to memories of my working-class roots. The authorities in Sheffield, however, have tried to expunge any record of my time in Sheffield: Jessop Hospital has been demolished, the primary school I attended has been demolished, and the buildings on both campuses of my secondary school have also been demolished!

What was your first job?

My first job, as a teenager, was selling football programmes at Bramall Lane, home of Sheffield United. I then used the earnings from Bramall Lane to fund my entry into Hillsborough, home of Sheffield Wednesday, to watch ‘my’ team.

What was the toughest job you ever had?

When I was a student, I worked as a hospital porter during five successive summer vacations. Witnessing the life-affirming and life-changing work of those in the NHS, and the vagaries and vicissitudes of life for those suffering long-term ill-health or sudden medical emergencies, provided a touchstone for my future career: my job was never going to be as tough as those performed daily by hospital staff.

What are your favourite novels?

The ‘Jackson Lamb Thrillers’ by Mick Herron. These are brilliant, and just happen to be the most recent novels I have read (so I can actually remember their plots and characters!).

What is your favourite music?

I tend to listen to music when I’m driving, so it depends on what I have on CarPlay. At the moment it’s a weird mix of Bon Iver, Elbow, Eric Clapton, John Martyn, Joni Mitchell, The Killers, Kings of Leon, Michael Kiwanuka, Willie Nelson, and, OK I admit it, ABBA.

What are your favourite artists?

Nancy Ortenston’s New Mexico Music. A large print of this features in our living room – so, I see it every day.

What is your favourite film?

The Last Picture Show. I’m a sucker for American black and white movies set in 1950s Texas.

What is your favourite building?

According to the many photos of these buildings on my phone I have two favourites. The first, for its exterior, is the Sydney Opera House. The second, for its interior, is the Santuário Dom Bosco, in Brasília.

What is your favourite tv show?

All-time favourite: The West Wing. Recent favourite: Better Call Saul.

What is your favourite sport?

Competitive biscuit eating. I reached Olympic qualifying standard during lockdown.

Boothroyd or Bercow?

Bercow: largely for his commitment to the Parliamentary Studies modules now on offer at 24 universities in the UK.

Restoration or Renewal?

Probably both, but at the present rate of ‘reviewing’ and ‘delivering’ it might end up as simply a case of ‘Deterioration’.

Cat or Dog?

Neither: Guinea Pigs (I became a default carer for my kids’ guinea pigs).

Fish and chips or Curry?

Fish and Chips

Planes, trains or automobiles?

Automobiles: my preferred mode of transport for listening to music.

Scones: Devonshire or Cornish Method?

As I spent three years as a student in Exeter it has to be Devonshire.

And, finally, a question asked by 8-year-old Seth: Would you prefer to be able to smell colours, or touch noises?

Great question Seth. This is the kind of question that will keep me awake at night trying to fathom out an answer. If an answer does come to me at 3.00 am, don’t worry Seth, I’ll phone you straight away!

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Blog

Parliaments’ Power in Authoritarian Regimes

Felix Wiebrecht, PhD Candidate in the Department of Government and Public Administration at The Chinese University of Hong Kong, summarises his recently published study on the notable differences in strength of legislatures in authoritarian regimes.

Barbara Geddes famously stated that “different kinds of authoritarianism differ from each other as much as they differ from democracy” and the same is true for their legislatures. From country-specific case studies we know that some of them neatly fit into the long-dominating narrative of authoritarian legislatures being merely of a ceremonial nature and nothing more than ‘rubberstamps’. Examples of this would include the parliaments of Belarus, Turkmenistan, Sudan, and in one of the most extreme cases that of North Korea.

Other parliaments, however, enjoy a wider range of powers, at least in the constitution if not necessarily in practice such as the Vietnamese National Assembly or the Grand National Assembly in Turkey’s past authoritarian periods. Among the de facto powers, the Parliament of Singapore is an example that fulfils a lot of the important functions of being able to remove the Head of State or investigate the executive independently. Prior research, such as the Parliamentary Powers Index (PPI) developed by Fish and Kroenig, provides evidence that, perhaps not surprisingly, legislatures in democracies tend to be more powerful when compared to those in authoritarian regimes. But how do we make sense of the great variance of legislative strength, i.e., the accumulation (or absence) of different powers of legislatures vis-à-vis the executive, across authoritarian regimes?

I find that across authoritarian regimes the level of democracy is also a highly significant but relatively weak predictor of how strong legislatures are. Three other factors are more pronouncedly linked to legislative strength, namely whether the regime is headed by a personalist dictator, whether it holds elections and whether an opposition is represented in the legislature.

Not all dictators are personalist leaders, i.e., those that control “access to key political posts, as well as most major policy decisions” (Frantz, 2018:76) such as Mao Zedong, Alexander Lukashenko or Muammar Gaddafi that face almost no constrains in their rule from regime insiders or outsiders. However, the closer an authoritarian leader comes to this ‘ideal-type’ of a dictator, the weaker the legislature tends to be.

However, when authoritarian regimes allow an opposition in parliament and when they hold elections, they also have stronger legislatures on average. In the tradition of literature on authoritarian regimes this can be seen as the manifestation of the cooptation mechanism. Most prominently put forward by Jennifer Gandhi, cooptation denotes that once a dictator feels threatened by the opposition that aims to overthrow him, he can establish institutions such as legislatures and invite the opposition to participate in governing the country through the legislature. Indeed, these institutions have to be stronger since otherwise the opposition may not agree to work through them and instead try to overthrow the dictator.

While these factors would suggest that when a dictator has to give up some control the legislatures also become stronger, there is a caveat to that. I find that before 1990 legislatures have often been used as ‘bargaining chips’ by dictators. It appears that it was a popular strategy to weaken legislatures whenever elections were reformed to be more open and competitive. In this way, dictators could afford to have less control over the elections, simply because the stakes, that is, the strength of the legislature, were lower.

After the Cold War, however, the nature of many authoritarian regimes has changed fundamentally. We are currently in the era of ‘competitive authoritarianism’ in which most authoritarian regimes have legislatures and allow some opposition parties to participate in elections. In this background, more competitive or liberalizing elements in the electoral and legislative processes are indeed associated with stronger legislatures after 1990. This is in line with recent research on legislatures in Africa that highlight that less dictatorial meddling in legislative processes is an important condition for legislative development. Legislative strength has not been a widely used concept regarding authoritarian legislatures. However, as we move to understand their roles in authoritarian governance in more depth, it may be useful to pursue more research investigating the effects of legislative strength. It helps us differentiate between ‘pure’ rubberstamps and those that are stronger vis-à-vis the dictator.

Felix Wiebrecht, PhD Candidate in the Department of Government and Public Administration at The Chinese University of Hong Kong, @FelixWiebrecht

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Blog

The Public Engagement Journey

Prof. Cristina Leston-Bandeira reflects on the different elements entailed within the concept of public engagement and why it is useful to think about it as a journey rather than as a linear succession of steps. 

I started writing this blog post about a year ago. But a little thing called ‘pandemic’ happened and I’ve been on catch-up mode ever since. Plus, I really don’t like writing, so although I’ve spoken about the public engagement journey many times and I even have a pretty graph for it (see below), actually writing it down just takes time for me. But here I am. Our International Parliament Engagement Network annual conference is taking place this Friday, which has finally prompted me into motion to fit this in somehow. If you’re into public engagement, read on; if not, then I’ve probably lost you by now in any case:).

This is a post about what public engagement entails – simply because it’s one of those terms so commonly used now, but with so many understandings. I identify some of its elements below, but also how they relate to each other; and why it seems more meaningful to talk of a journey of public engagement, than about a ladder of engagement. And that engagement is not participation – often these are used interchangeably.

My context of research is parliament, so I’m thinking specifically about public engagement with parliament. But actually the starting point of the reflection for this post is exactly that public engagement is not a political thing; if anything, it’s more of an education thing really – when all is said and done, it’s about empowering people in relation to their surroundings. Public engagement is regularly used as if there is a common understanding of what the thing entails; whilst simultaneously being used to refer to lots of different types of activities. It is also commonly assumed as a well-established concept regardless of culture, when many languages don’t actually have a term for public engagement (love Brazilians, in absence of the term in Portuguese, they’ve adopted the English one and there we have it, the birth of “engajamento”;)).

Despite its obvious connections with politics, public engagement has been a strong concept in other disciplines, namely in the arts and the sciences (e.g., Devonshire and Hathway 2014Meehan 2012Shein et al 2015). As politics, the sciences and the arts can be perceived as subjects for the elites, necessitating a pro-active approach to public engagement in order to make these more accessible to the general public. The very concept and practice of public engagement “is often credited as emerging from the sciences where, since the 1970s, there have been concerted attempts to nurture public understanding of science” (Sanders and Moles, p.24). The sciences’ focus on public understanding is such, that it constitutes a sub-discipline in itself, with its own journal and acronyms (Public Understanding of Science – PUS). In both the sciences and the arts, there is a core discussion around the extent to which disseminating information can be termed of public engagement, or if this requires a more active involvement from the public; something that chimes with many discussions I’ve been part of, within political engagement. The discussion is reflected in a move over the last decade from the PUS paradigm (Public Understanding of Science) to the PEST one (Public Engagement with Science and technology) (got to love the acronyms) (Davies 2013). In many ways, this reflects some of the tensions inherent to public engagement with parliament, and its multiplicities of expression.

Public engagement has also been approached, however, as a primarily participatory activity. This is clearly expressed in urban studies, where public engagement emerges as a way of involving the public in community matters (e.g. Arnstein 1969Glass 1979). This literature may in fact not use the term of “public engagement” but more of “public (or citizen) participation”. The key driver here is about promoting communities that are planned and developed with a more inclusive involvement of all those affected. Naturally, here there has been a stronger focus on the mechanisms that may enable listening to people’s views and possibly integrating these into decision-making processes. But also within these studies there is a recognition of different elements of public engagement, from information to citizen control or representational input. In parallel of course the vast literature on democratic theory also has direct relevance to the understanding of public engagement, namely the scholarly contributions on participatory democracy (e.g. Pateman 1975) and the deliberative turn (e.g. Dryzek 2002).

The adoption of the concept of public engagement to political institutions draws from this wide range of contributions and, naturally, it reflects different types of activity. These may be more at the level of informing and educating the public about the institution’s role and activity, which may encapsulate mainly communication and publicising activities. It may however also refer to activities whereby the public has a say on a policy, or may even be co-producers of this policy. So, although they may translate into very different types of activities, they are all about public engagement.

In order to encapsulate this diversity, I’ve identified before five elements to public engagement with parliament:

  • Information: citizens have access to information about parliament.
  • Understanding: citizens engage with this information developing an understanding of the parliament (the understanding can be at its simplest form, such as recognising the difference between legislature and executive).
  • Identification: citizens can see parliament’s relevance and are able to link parliamentary activity to their own lives and experiences.
  • Participation: citizens feel compelled to participate in a parliamentary output to act on an area that matters to them.
  • Intervention: citizens lead a participatory process and engage with parliamentarians in the discussion that contributes to a parliamentary decision.

Besides the types of elements, processes or activities that engagement entails, another common discussion is how they relate to each other and, specifically whether citizens need to be first informed and educated, to then be able to participate. It’s what’s often referred to as the ladder of engagement or the hierarchy of engagement. I prefer to speak of the journey of public engagement, as shown in the figure below:

The journey aims to (1) differentiate several elements of public engagement and (2) emphasise an inter-connectedness between these elements, rather than a path, hierarchy or linear relationship. In my original conceptualisation of public engagement, I spoke of steps – again following the idea of a ladder – but the more my research developed, the more I’ve spoken to participants involved in public engagement, the more I’ve become convinced of the non-linearity of these elements. Rather than talking about different steps and a linear relationship between different stages that people need to accomplish, I find it more useful to talk about a cycle (journey) with inter-connected elements of engagement, which do not always need to happen – different types of activity may refer to separate elements of the public engagement journey. Putting this into practice means that some people may decide to create a petition because they are really fed up with an issue; and not necessarily because they know how the political system works or because they woke up in the morning with a burning desire to participate. However, without the information and the understanding of the system, they’re unlikely to achieve a lot. Likewise, educating young people about parliament doesn’t mean they will eagerly start leading campaigns. The different elements of the journey are inter-connected and supplement each other.

So there you have it – not sure it was worth waiting a year to finish this, but here you are, some reflections on the different elements of public engagement; the need to speak of a journey and of inter-connected elements of engagement, rather than separating them out and focusing just on information, or just on participation, for instance; and to value how citizens process the information, how they reflect on it and how they act on it. And ultimately the fact that public engagement is not necessarily about politics; it’s about empowering people in relation to their surroundings.

This blog was kindly shared by the Centre for Democratic Engagement. See the original post here

Cristina Leston-Bandeira is Professor of Politics at the University of Leeds and Co-Director of the Centre for Democratic Engagement (tweets as @estrangeirada).

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Blog

Calmed waters by a missed boat

A highly intelligent, well-informed report with clear recommendations has emerged from a Select Committee. ‘What is going on?’ asks Ray Snoddy

Reaction to the recommendations of the House of Commons Select Committees is usually in direct proportion to how outlandish they are.

Argue that it’s time to replace the BBC or privatise Channel 4 and heavy headlines are guaranteed.

Come up with well-argued, moderate recommendations, that after studying the full implications, the status quo should continue with the BBC licence fee surviving until at least 2038, and all is quiet.

The main reason for such a suggestion is that the Government has failed to come up with a workable alternative and has effectively run out of time.

The response has been muted, not least because newspapers like The TimesDaily Mail and the Sun, have been arguing for decades for the “reform” of the licence fee.

In recent years this has morphed into arguments for the abolition of the licence fee and its replacement by a form of voluntary subscription – just like Netflix.

It is the sort of attack that has come directly from Downing Street in the early days of the Johnson Premiership when Dominic Cummings was a power in the land.

Yet suddenly, the Digital, Culture, Media and Sport Select Committee’s report on the future of public service broadcasting comes-up with something so unexpectedly rooted in the status quo that it becomes positively radical.

The argument of the Select Committee can be summed-up in one weighty paragraph.

“It’s clear that the BBC TV licence has a limited shelf-life in a digital media landscape,” the central theme begins. So far so good. We all know that public service broadcasters are facing enormous competitive pressure from the streaming services and associated difficulty reaching young audiences.

“However, the Government has missed the boat to reform it. Instead of coming up with a workable alternative, it has sealed its own fate through a failure to develop a broadband infrastructure that would allow serious consideration of other means to fund the BBC,” the Committee argues.

The eleven-person panel chaired by Conservative Julian Knight, and with an inbuilt Conservative majority, looked at three main alternatives – household or individual fee, state budget funding, or subscription with supplementary taxation.

“None of these were sufficiently better as a whole to recommend as an alternative,” the Committee tellingly concludes.

It has not been shy to draw clear conclusion from its analysis either.

The Government now needs to come out with a clear alternative to the licence fee that it can put to Parliament – with the implication that none exists at the moment- or strongly support the current model for at least the next 10-year Charter period.

They go further. If there is no workable alternative at present then the Government should actually help the BBC in driving down evasion.

Where on earth could such a radical interpretation of the status quo have sprung from? A highly intelligent, well-informed report with clear recommendations has emerged from a Select Committee. What is going on?

A look at the personnel is revealing. No less than three of the six Conservatives have worked for the BBC at some stage in their careers and another is an actor. Damian Green, former deputy Prime Minister has worked for both the BBC and Channel 4.

Those seeking to undermine the BBC will cry fix. An alternative view is that some of those involved might actually know what they are talking about.

There is another aspect to the Committee membership. No less than five of the six Conservatives were for Remain, and that of course is a taint that excludes otherwise qualified people from the Cabinet – doubly so if they failed to support Boris Johnson for the leadership.

Could it be that refugees from this Government have, by default, helped to raise the quality of select committees?

If the licence fee is to continue through the next Charter period until 2038 then other implications click in as night follows day.

Almost by definition, the Communications Act 2003 is hopelessly out of date and needs to be urgently replaced. Despite the pandemic the Select Committee wants to see new legislation enacted before 2022.

In particular, if the current structure of public service broadcasting is to survive in anything like its present form then, as the Committee recommends, PSBs should have on screen prominence that goes beyond the current electronic programme guide.

As Carolyn McCall, chief executive of ITV has argued, if your audience cannot find your programmes the business ultimately cannot survive.

The Committee is also spot-on in arguing that the PSBs should also help themselves and not just rely on the Government by taking steps to maximise their own bargaining power in the digital age.

It suggests that the five PSBs should explore options for collaboration on a single on-demand video platform – rather like Project Kangaroo of blessed memory- and that Ofcom should offer support.

Surely that is another sensible suggestion from the Committee and would give the established broadcasters more of a chance in the never-ending battle with the multiple-billion California streaming services.

Will the Government take any notice of this well-grounded report?

Another truism about Select Committees, the more sensible they are, the more likely they are to be ignored.

But facts and technology are right behind the arguments. Subscription funding for the BBC will not be a practical option for years, and it may never be a good idea if you want to preserve a national broadcaster for all.

It is impossible because millions do not have the broadband connections and many millions more do not have the necessary black boxes.

Even if it were technically possible, the overall cost of broadband subscription, box and BBC subscription would be much higher than the current BBC licence fee.

As the Committee astutely suggests – the Government has already missed the boat in being able to bring in a workable alternative way of funding the BBC in time for the start of a new charter.

Common sense is slowing winning in the face of the initial Johnson/ Cummings attack on the BBC, complete with thoroughly bad ideas such as decriminalising the licence fee, something that has now been quietly dropped.

As Damian Green noted at the time of the Johnson/Cummings attacks, there was nothing in the Conservative manifesto about destroying the BBC.

You can be cynical about the output of Select Committees. Somewhere there must be a mountain of ignored and discarded reports.

This one could mark a turning point in the direction towards sanity.

This blog was originally published on Mediatel News. See the original post on their website.

Raymond Snoddy is a freelance writer and media consultant. He is the former media editor of @thetimes and @FT, and presenter of @newswatchbbc.

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Urgent Questions

Professor Sarah Childs

SARAH CHILDS

Professor Sarah Childs is Professor of Politics & Gender at Royal Holloway, University of London. Her latest book is Feminist Democratic Representation, co-authored with Karen Celis and published by Oxford University Press in 2020. She also authored The Good Parliament Report in 2016.

Please tell us a little bit about how you entered academia and your academic career

As an undergraduate in politics I realised I hadn’t been able to learn enough about gender; I did a masters in Women’s studies and was signed up to start at PGCE… I realized I didn’t want to teach the Romans to 11 year olds… I had to look for a job – in those days the Guardian on a Wednesday – interviews for two PhDs places, I got offered the first at Kingston University, part-time with teaching; otherwise, I might have been a suffrage historian… I never wanted to be a British politics lecturer – I did politics in the school of African and Asian studies at Sussex… but my PhD years covered the 1997 election. I was supposed to be writing a theoretical PhD but I ended up interviewing 35 of the New Labour Women; and I loved talking to political actors.

Which five books/articles (written by someone else) have been most important to you in your academic career?

Benedict Anderson Imagined Communities – as an undergraduate, this book was like nothing I’d read before.

Vicky Randall Women and Politics – my first ever gender and politics book.

Anne Phillips The Politics of Presence – read as a Masters in Women’s Studies student, and started off my academic career.

Drude Dahlerup ‘From a Small to a Large Minority’, a key contribution to debates about critical mass.

Suzanne Dovi ‘Preferable Descriptive Representatives: Will Just Any Woman, Black, or Latino Do?’ – made me think harder about the practice of representation

Which person/people has/have been most influential/important to you in your academic career?

Joni Lovenduski and Vicky Randall – When I was a part-time PhD student in an old polytechnic on the verge of giving up, both told me that my research was worthwhile; thereafter I received the most amazing mentorship from Joni, and Vicky examined my PhD.

Rosie Campbell – co-author, co-jogger, and confidant.

Karen Celis – with whom I’ve just spent amazing three years writing a book, including two summers of intense writing in Italy with her.

Which of your own pieces of research are you most proud of?

Feminist Democratic Representation with Karen Celis. It was slow, intense and fun, and our first book of political theory.

‘The Substantive Representation of Women: Reducing the VAT on Sanitary Products in the UK’ in Parliamentary Affairs (2006) with Julie Withey. My favourite discrete case study.

What has been your greatest achievement in academia?

The Good Parliament Report 2016 + the pilot (2018) and then permanent change to Standing Orders to allow proxy voting for babyleave (2020).

What has been your greatest disappointment in academia?

Being told: (i) I would only get a serious job if I study a serious subject (i.e. not gender); and (ii) I would only get a pay rise if I received a job offer from another institution.

What is the first or most important thing you tell your students about parliaments?

To understand them you need to speak to folks who inhabit them, week in-week out, both political and administrative.

Where were you born, where did you grow up, and where do you live now?

Hartley Wintney and Hook, in Hampshire – school was local but sixth form college was in Basingstoke. I have lived in Clapham since the early 1990s. I had to get away from village life where everyone knows your business.

What was your first job?

I worked in a sweet shop on Saturdays whilst at school and then Boots the Chemist as a sixth former.  

What was the toughest job you ever had?

I worked in an industrial laundry on a machine that would send down hangers on which I would hang soggy men’s overalls, all day. I have never been so physically exhausted. After a week I fortunately got a pub job that meant I could leave.

What are your hobbies?

Running with my little brother (virtually if not in person); personal training; swimming. None of these in an extreme way but regularly; and reading.

What are your favourite novels?

The Blind Assassin, Margaret Atwood.

The Poisonwood Bible, Barbara Kingsolver

Amrita, Banana Yoshimoto

What is your favourite music?

Blue Lines, Massive Attack. Reminds me of friends, gigs, and (many strong) women’s voices.

Home by Hania Rani. During the pandemic this was really relaxing

What are your favourite artists?

Georgia O’keefe, especially her flowers. Edward Hopper, I look at this picture every day, and I love the water.

What is your favourite film?

Secrets and Lies, Mike Leigh. Best representation of PMT ever seen on film… IMHO.

What is your favourite building?

Falling Water, when I visited as a teenager I was blown away by it.

What is your favourite tv show?

During Covid: Schitt’s Creek

What is your favourite holiday destination?

Iceland: spas, thermal swimming pools, mountains, snow, and clean air.

What is your favourite sport?

I guess football to watch – best memories of Granddad (Tottenham) and dad, and still watch with little bro and partner (both Gooners).

Boothroyd or Bercow?

Bercow on gender/diversity sensitive reforms.

Restoration or Renewal?

Both, but former without latter will be irrelevant to the better working of the institution.

Cat or Dog?

Neither.

Fish and chips or Curry?

Both, at least once a month.

Planes, trains or automobiles?

The Eurostar to Brussels.

Scones: Devonshire or Cornish Method?

I don’t need the cream.

And, finally, a question asked by 8-year-old Seth: Would you rather have chips for fingers, or chocolate eclairs for thumbs??

Chips  – I think the chocolate eclairs will drip chocolate and cream on my clothes… and I like clothes too much.