Month: March 2022

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Held in contempt: what’s wrong with the House of Commons?

The sight of Ukrainians standing in front of Russian tanks should provide a sharp corrective to any complacency about the permanence of democratic systems around the world. Of course such complacency would already be misplaced given the evidence of increased autocratic tendencies and democratic backsliding of governments in numerous countries, which is becoming the subject of a growing academic literature. But it is a stark reminder of our responsibility to work to strengthen the effectiveness and public reputation of parliamentary democracy, if we value it.   

The UK parliament is not immune from these pressures. The Brexit process demonstrated that UK governments are willing to sideline and even – in the case of Boris Johnson’s prorogation – close down parliament in order to achieve their political aims. And the Covid-19 pandemic has seen government become ever more accustomed to using emergency powers that require only retrospective parliamentary approval. As two House of Lords committees have noted in recent reports (Democracy denied and Government by diktat), growing use of skeleton bills which provide only minimal policy detail and leave the rest to be filled in with sweeping regulatory powers has further minimised parliament’s ability to play its role in the democratic system. Meanwhile the executive’s strong control over the Commons agenda limits the ability of MPs to enhance the effectiveness of their own institution.   

In my new book, published in April, I argue that – for too long – MPs have been careless of the reputation of the House of Commons and resigned to a declining spiral of public trust in their institution. MPs need to recognise the threat to our democratic system represented by the contempt in which the public hold parliament. Low public trust in parliament is not a problem that can be easily solved. But nor is it an immutable conundrum before which MPs can simply shrug their shoulders and carry on as before. There are obvious issues about the way in which MPs and the House of Commons operate which could and should be addressed, to make our democratic system as effective and as valued as it should be.

Perhaps most fundamentally, the House of Commons is not descriptively representative of the population it serves. This matters for reasons of justice and symbolism but also the effectiveness and legitimacy of the House. Political parties have made efforts that have been more (Labour) or less (Conservative) effective at increasing the representation of women in the Commons but it is frankly pathetic that gender equality has not been achieved over 100 years since women became eligible to be elected to the Commons – we are still stuck at 34%. Other aspects of diversity – including disability and ethnicity – have been even less susceptible to change. 

And there is no guarantee that even existing slow progress towards an representative house might not be reversed. The evident pressures of life as an MP (including the risk of being murdered in your constituency surgery), anachronistic working practices and the physical constraints of the parliamentary estate could all slow or even reverse recent trends towards increased diversity of MPs. Some of the answers to these problems lie elsewhere, but MPs should think much more actively about how to make parliament an inclusive and accessible workplace which is attractive to a diverse range of candidates.

For example, while many MPs feel that the rituals, traditions, language and heritage of parliament lend gravitas and importance to their deliberations, the way parliament works can also be exclusionary and impenetrable for those on the outside looking in. This may even be the case for MPs themselves. Even those you might expect to be the most accomplished at understanding the plethora of standing orders, precedents, rulings and conventions may lack confidence in deploying them. Sir Charles Walker, former chair of the Commons Procedure Committee cheerfully admitted to me that – after running the committee for seven and a half years he knew “very little “ about procedure. The complexity of parliament’s rules and procedures lead to undemocratic disparities in the ability of MPs to perform their roles, handing power to the whips. They must be simplified. 

A further problem which I highlight in the book as damaging the public reputation of the House of Commons is the exceptionalism of too many MPs. The doctrine of ‘parliamentary sovereignty’ – that parliament is the highest legal authority – leads some MPs to treat themselves as a class apart with damaging consequences for public perceptions of parliament. Such exceptionalism has been at the root of many parliamentary scandals over the years – from MPs’ expenses to #MeToo. Sadly the ‘partygate’ scandal has provided a new and live example of the corrosive effect on public trust when those in power assume there should be one rule for them and another for everyone else. MPs need to recognise the rationale for and consequent limits to their privileges, striving to make the House of Commons an exemplar in following the rules it sets for others, rather than an exception to them.

The catastrophic decline in trust in parliament has so far failed to prompt serious attention from MPs, let alone action. In some ways this is unsurprising – the history of the House of Commons – in common with that of many other institutions – demonstrates that significant change only happens in the window of opportunity following a crisis. Brexit and Covid both posed significant challenges for MPs but neither were seen by them as justification for serious reforms. This is dangerously complacent. Russia’s autocratic challenge to Ukraine’s fledgling democracy should remind us to value and invest in our parliamentary system. The House of Commons is held in contempt, but it need not be.  

Dr Hannah White OBE, Deputy Director of the Institute for Government

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New visual cues in the UK Parliament

“The medium is the message”. Marshall McLuhan

The use of videoconferencing technologies in the UK Parliament allows political representatives to be seen in a new setting, which representatives can – to a large degree – arrange and present as they see fit. This marks a departure from – and in some sense a juxtaposition with – traditional parliamentary imagery and backdrops. In turn, it also ushers in new discussions of political representation and communication.

For several years now I have been studying Parliament through narrative, in order to better understand existing practices and perceptions (both inside and outside the institution). A useful definition of narrative is provided by Barthes (1975), who discusses narrative as an “ordered mixture of substances”. This means that there is a sequential – or structural – nature to this concept. Narratives are comprised of things that are in themselves purely incidental, even coincidental, but have been presented collectively in a meaningful way in order to express an idea or concept. 

So what are these ‘substances’ in a parliamentary context? How can we identify them? As Puwar (2010)observes, “grilles, galleries, rooms, vents, statues, paintings, walls, halls, curtains, stairwells, seats, rods and feet provide points from which to tell the sedimented, layered and contested stories of occupation, performance and ritual”. In using this observation to build on the aforementioned definition of narratives, we can construct a coherent view of what parliamentary narratives are: an ordered mixture of storytelling substances.

In this context, ‘disorder’ – i.e. any rupture with established narrative(s) – is subject to a swift institutional response. A couple of years ago, in the Commons chamber, MP Peter bone wore what was widely – and fairly accurately – described as a ‘silly hat’ in connection with his charity work. At the time, Commons Speaker John Bercow said that, ideally, the hat would never be seen again by anyone in society, and especially not in the House of Commons. This incident was allegedly a violation of a 1998 ban on hats (yes, there is a ban on hats in the Commons…).

These incidents are by no means particular or peculiar to the UK. We have seen the calling-out of political slogans by Speakers in a range of parliaments, in response to items or statements that appear to be political or partisan. Anthony Rota, Speaker of the House of Commons in Canada, has previously voiced concern over MPs’ backgrounds, on the basis of their straying from ‘political neutrality’. 

There is something intriguing about these moments. The Speakers do not typically focus on how the ‘offending’ items make the MP look; instead, they focus on how these items make Parliament look. Of course, this is reasonable rhetoric for a Speaker, but it also hints at a certain anxiety around rupturing the ‘visual fabric’ – and the inherent theatricality – of Parliament.

The use of videoconferencing technologies (such as Zoom and Teams) has added new storytelling substances into parliaments’ visual discourses. When they are not physically present in the chamber, political representatives are now able to broadcast their immediate surroundings into parliamentary premises, and by extension to the viewing public. This is especially significant in cases such as Prime Minister’s Questions, and other high-profile parliamentary events.

This matters because for centuries, the UK Parliament has largely had visual cues – and the way(s) in which these are ordered – under its exclusive control. This has been turned upside-down (or sideways, at least) by parliamentarians using videoconferencing technology. They now have a measure of control over their immediate surroundings, which they can curate and arrange as they please (within some of the institutional bounds discussed earlier). 

This development raises new questions about visual narratives, discourses, and parliamentary symbolism. Therefore, it has been disappointing to see that direct academic study has been rather limited. Media discussion on this topic – and the popular discourse more broadly – has been both narrow and shallow. Rankings of Conservative MPs’ flag backdrops from best to worst, and rankings of MPs’ houses (as seen via video calls), don’t tell us very much about MPs, much less what they may be trying to represent about themselves (and who/what they represent). 

The closest thing we get to an analysis – in a media context at least – is a discussion of the link between MPs’ backgrounds and their personalities:

While Liz Truss gets very patriotic on Zoom with her large flagpole, SNP Westminster leader Ian Blackford always sits surrounded by signed memorabilia from his beloved Celtic Football Club, with two footballs behind him. Alister Jack, Scotland Secretary, is good at showing his loyalty to the homeland too, with some nice Dumfriesshire oil paintings.

These visual cues – by which representatives can (attempt to) connect with publics and/or their own constituencies – underlines the significance of MPs as “living symbols of a locality” (Crewe 2015). The nature of these visual cues – and their likelihood of success – varies widely. From the aforementioned flagpoles, football memorabilia, and oil paintings, to Clive Betts’ Lego Palace of Westminster, it is fair to say that these backgrounds are neither accidental nor incidental. They are attempts by MPs to communicate, or to connect: to represent themselves to publics, and to represent publics (or some element of them) to publics. 

A common theme across what we have discussed so far – visual ‘disruptions’ in Parliament, as identified by Commons Speakers, and the independently-curated backgrounds facilitated by videoconferencing – is institutional anxiety. A lot of this is focused around the presence of new technology in the Commons, especially that which enables communication at a distance. I have written previously about then-Leader of the House Jacob Rees-Mogg’s assertion, in June 2020, that a ‘virtual parliament’ is damaging to politics, which “is better done face-to-face, even if the whites of the ministerial eyes are six feet away”.

Leaving aside Mr Rees-Mogg’s words – and their highly militaristic connotations – it is also interesting that the UK Parliament was at pains to show that, even as a virtual/hybrid parliament, it was still the same legislature. Back in April 2020, its news feed was careful to note that “[t]o maintain continuity and tradition…the symbolic and historic Mace is still placed on the table whenever the House is sitting and a socially distanced Speaker’s processing still takes place”.

This anxiety is also palpable outside of the ‘Westminster village’. Playwright and screenwriter James Graham, in May 2020, discussed the importance of physical proximity in order to build and maintain empathy (which is unarguably an important component of representation). Nevertheless, his central argument, including the assertion that “there was no Microsoft Teams in ancient Athens”, is highly problematic. First of all, a lot of things weren’t present in ancient Athens, including a model of democracy that we would find equitable or desirable (this point is relevant to direct and representative models of democracy). 

Secondly, Graham’s central argument – that an absence of physical presence equates to an absence of opportunity to build empathy – simply does not hold up, in theory or in practice. Let’s deal with practice first. When MPs’ chosen backdrops are visible and thereby available to publics, there is engagement (even if this takes the form of satire, ridicule, or open hostility). In other words, we see de-mystification in these moments. It is difficult to overstate how much of an asset this can be; in building empathy, in underlining MPs’ status as ‘living symbols’, and – crucially – to complementing physical proximity.

I saw this first-hand while conducting research for the Inter-Parliamentary Union’s upcoming Global Parliamentary Report on public engagement with parliaments. For logistical reasons (relating to geographical distance and to Covid-19) almost all of the research interviews and focus groups were conducted via Zoom. This, as you might imagine, created a different atmosphere – and, in several respects, a more personally engaging one –than if the discussions had all taken place in constituency offices, or in parliamentary buildings. The spaces we saw on Zoom were windows into the personae of MPs and staff. 

This is the same sense of empathy that so many commentators (inside and outside of Westminster) perceive to be at risk, and that videoconferencing technology can – in fact – help to generate. 

Let’s now turn to theory. John Parkinson (2013) observed that legislatures are “places where competing narratives are told and claims on public resources are made, scrutinized, prioritized, accepted, repackaged and rejected”. Puwar, as we have already discussed, acknowledged that the stories told in – or, more accurately, by – parliamentary space are contested ones. Contestation – within what we might describe as normative bounds – is intrinsic to Parliament’s institutional identity. Parliament exists because of contestation.  

The idea that videoconferencing technology, ‘virtual parliaments’, and so on, constitute a rupture, or a situation of precarity, within an established parliamentary narrative (relating to democratic and historical continuity, for instance) is unfounded in theoretical and basic practical terms. The UK Parliament (more than most parliaments) continues to operate in a state of narrative flux, meaning that contestation itself can be read as a political status quo. Videoconferencing technology continues this process in a highly visual way, but with the benefit of a greater potential for empathy through seeing a glimpse of MPs’ real lives, however they may choose to present them. 

Dr Alex Prior, Lecturer in Politics, London South Bank University and Honorary Research Fellow at the University of East Anglia.

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Urgent Questions

Professor Meg Russell

MEG RUSSELL

Professor Meg Russell is Professor of British and Comparative Politics and Director of the Constitution Unit at University College London. She is the co-author of Legislation at Westminster and author of The Contemporary House of Lords (both Oxford University Press).

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

I followed a rather non-standard route. My first degree was in pure mathematics. I was encouraged to stay on and do a PhD but didn’t because I thought it would be too lonely (and difficult!) living that much in my own head – though I did have a research job in maths for several years. But by then I was much more interested in politics and policy, so started volunteering for my MP, and from there I got a parliamentary research position, and did a part-time Masters degree in Political Economy. I moved to Labour Party head office, as the National Women’s Officer, and in 1998 applied for a one-year research job at the Constitution Unit focused on Lords reform. After 24 years, I’m still here! I did a two-year secondment as adviser to the Leader of the House of Commons (Robin Cook – such a clever and lovely man), and started teaching when I returned to the university in 2003. Subsequently, my path has been a bit more standard.

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

Arend Lijphart’s Democracies/Patterns of Democracy

Anthony King’s ‘Modes of Executive-Legislative Relations’

Bernard Crick’s In Defence of Politics

More recently, a whole host of things about the culture of politics (some of them quite scary), like Achen and Bartels’ Democracy for Realists, Nadia Urbinati’s ‘Political Theory of Populism’, Levitsky and Ziblatt’s How Democracies Die, Anne Applebaum’s Twilight of Democracy. All highly recommended.

Which person has been most influential and important to you in your academic career?

When I was working in parliament in the 1990s I met Joni Lovenduski who, along with various other feminist scholars, first demonstrated to me how academic work that’s pitched right can enlighten and influence policy decisions. Joni was subsequently very supportive to me personally, as was her friend (and my then Head of Department) Helen Margetts. A bit later, Sarah Childs helped persuade me that I had made the transition to being a ‘proper’ academic – though I do still question that some days!

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

Partly those things which have had direct influence on reform. One of my first Constitution Unit reports (Women’s Representation in Politics: What Can Be Done within the Law?) helped pave the way for the legalisation of legislative quotas, while a later report (The House Rules?) first proposed the Commons Backbench Business Committee. But I’m also proud of more conventional academic works which I hope have helped to demystify political institutions and enable people to see them differently – like my books on The Contemporary House of Lords and Legislation at Westminster. While direct policy influence is very satisfying, so is the influence that comes with your work filtering through to A-level students and a wider public.

What has been your greatest achievement in academia?

I suppose being made a Fellow of the British Academy. I still find this decision rather perplexing on their part!

What has been your greatest disappointment in academia?

The number of academics who see politics, and parliaments in particular, primarily as a data playground, rather than something to understand substantively and seek to inform and improve. And those who enjoy making themselves feel bigger and more clever by badmouthing other people’s work, rather than engaging constructively.

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

That they are uniquely open institutions, but that much of what matters most nonetheless happens behind the scenes. Also of course that they are precious, because you can’t be a democracy without one.

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

Simple: North London, within about a 2 mile radius of King’s Cross.

What was your first job?

When I was in sixth form and at university I ran a clothes stall in Camden market – initially with second-hand clothes that I had bought, later with clothes that I had made.

What was the toughest job you ever had?

That job was pretty tough, particularly in the snow! Subsequently, while it wasn’t a job (it was a community self-build scheme) I also worked two days a week on a building site for about 18 months – I mostly completely loved it, but doing roofing in the snow was also definitely a challenge.

What are your hobbies?

Swimming, running, gardening, coastal walks, and painting on the rare occasions that I can find the time.

What are your favourite novels?

Let me preface this by saying that all these remaining questions are impossibly difficult. I wish you’d asked me when I was 22 and had encountered fewer things and had greater certainty!

I love anything by Natalia Ginzburg – they are so simple, but beautifully observed. Italo Calvino’s If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller is uniquely structured, and the mix of styles is extraordinary.

What is your favourite music?

For sitting with maximum calm, Keith Jarrett’s Köln Concert.

For walking, Tchaikovsky’s Souvenir de Florence.

For running, Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now.

What are your favourite artworks?

Realist landscape paintings, particularly coastal – because they transport me to where I want to be.

What is your favourite film?

Cabaret – for the politics and the music. West Side Story – purely for the music. The Man Who Fell to Earth – purely because David Bowie is so beautiful.

What is your favourite building?

I love New Parliament House in Canberra, but it’s so sad that you can’t walk over it any more like people were intended to do. At the other end, the Gothic – the St Pancras Hotel is hard to beat. And Charles Rennie Mackintosh.

What is your favourite tv show?

I hardly ever watch TV these days, but I did enjoy Fleabag enough to watch it twice.

What is your favourite holiday destination?

West Cornwall – beautiful light, stunning scenery, great climate for the UK. Rome – delicious food, endless culture, vibrant and chaotic. Or Turin – refined and cultured with less sweltering heat and chaos.

Boothroyd or Bercow?

Both.

Restoration or Renewal?

Both.

Cat or Dog?

Oh dear, both – cats to have at home, other people’s dogs to watch on the beach.

Fish and chips or Curry?

Chips with curry sauce?

Trains, planes or automobiles?

Trains, definitely only trains.

Scones: Devonshire or Cornish Method?

Notwithstanding holiday destination of choice, Devonshire I’m ashamed to say.

And, finally, a question asked by Seth, who is 9: Would you rather have to drink sea water (which doesn’t kill you) for the rest of your life, or only ever have a tiny orange and nothing else for breakfast?

The tiny orange would suit me fine.

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Turning Right: Donald Trump and the GOP Direction of Travel 

In January 2022, an NBC poll asked GOP voters whether they considered themselves to be ‘more a supporter of Donald Trump or more a supporter of the Republican party?’ In response, 56% prioritised the party and 36% Trump. A year earlier the same question had the numbers even at 46% each. These numbers suggest some loosening of the former president’s grip on the GOP, yet his continuing presence is most unusual. In another early 2022 poll 50% of Republicans and Republican leaning independents named Trump as their preferred party nominee in 2024. In January 1982 or January 1994 there was no clamour amongst Democratic and Republican party loyalists for the return of Jimmy Carter or George Bush Snr respectively following their one-term presidencies.

Scholars continue to argue about whether the former reality television star’s presidential triumph in 2016 was a one-off aberration. Did it reflect a very particular political moment as two deeply unpopular major party candidates battled in a toxic atmosphere throughout a campaign infused with sexism, or was that toxicity a product of longer-term underlying trends? Trump’s capture of the Republican nomination in 2016 was certainly unexpected, and shocked much of the conservative establishment, yet if the messenger was initially an unwelcome outsider, it is possible to see the message as the culmination of many years of right-ward populist and illiberal travel.

A reminder that the politics of personal destruction were rife decades before the arrival of Donald Trump includes Newt Gingrich’s 1990s embrace of political conflict as no-holds barred culture wars Yet, prior to 2016, the party’s presidential nominee had been an established if not always establishment figure. Reagan’s emergence in 1980 was a surprise to much of the outside world but he had been a high profile player in GOP circles for some time and had nearly captured the nomination in 1976. Subsequent nominees, Bush Snr, Dole, Bush Jnr, McCain and Romney all paid more homage to Reagan’s small government conservatism than Eisenhower’s accommodation to the New Deal, but that also meant that they all operated within an identifiable conservative ideological framework. Opponents complained that this sometimes included racist populist dog whistles. The National Populism on offer from Trump in 2016 had a different flavour as the candidate turned the volume up well beyond whistling and blasted out messages that were denounced by the party’s previous Vice-Presidential nominee as being  “like the textbook definition of a racist comment”.

Nevertheless, there is a school of thought that argues Trump’s populist rhetoric did not translate in populist governance. Instead, it proposes that the efforts to implement  such an agenda  were undone by his own extreme administrative incompetence. This in turn exacerbated the institutional fragmentation which plagues all presidential efforts to fulfil their campaign promises. Hence, Trump’s signature legislative achievement was a set of tax cuts – a policy fully in line with Reaganism and the wishes of more traditional Republican grandees. 

 Such a focus, however, may underplay Trump’s longer term impact. First, he decisively settled some long-running internal GOP policy debates,  not least the division over immigration policy. In 1986 Reagan signed the Immigration Reform and Control Act, which amongst other things, included a pathway to legal status for many undocumented immigrants. In his second term President George W Bush advocated for similar measures and, in 2013, 14 Republican Senators signed on to a bipartisan bill that contained comparable elements. Always more the preserve of the party’s elite, that approach is increasingly taboo. The restrictionist sentiments of party’s base, so explicitly articulated by Trump, now dominates. 

Second, in collaboration with the party’s establishment leaders, President Trump cemented in a conservative majority on the Supreme Court that could last for a generation. The real power player behind this achievement for the conservative movement was then Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell of Kentucky. For months he blocked Obama’s nomination of Merrick Garland to succeed Antonin Scalia after the latter’s unexpected death in 2016 on the grounds that a justice should not be confirmed in an election year. Next, after Trump had nominated replacements for both Scalia and the retiring Anthony Kennedy, the White House and McConnell rushed through the nomination and confirmation of justice Amy Coney Barrett. This was to replace ‘liberal lion’ Ruth Bader Ginsburg after her death a mere 35 days before the 2020 presidential election.  

Third, Trump’s continuing influence over the party is illustrated by the numbers of party identifiers who believe that the 2020 election was fraudulent. Even on the day that the deeply shocking events of January 6th 2021 unfolded, 147 elected Republicans chose to ignore the facts and embrace the ‘Big Lie.’ It is not simply that many Republican identifiers still claim to believe the ‘lie’, but that in many states there have been concerted attempts to pass laws that empower partisan bodies to challenge the legitimacy of vote counts. These efforts go beyond the voter restriction measures, anti-democratic though those already are, that have become increasingly common in GOP controlled states in recent years. The new endeavour offers real potential to overturn the will of voters who have been able to participate.

At this stage it remains uncertain whether Trump will choose to run again in 2024. Even if he does not, his brand of politics will live on, embraced by emerging potential candidates such as Florida Governor Ron DeSantis and Missouri Senator Josh Hawley. In the meantime, Trump’s influence will be tested in some of the 2022 Republican Party primaries as candidates he has endorsed compete for votes. In some cases, there has been an unseemly competition to be the Trumpiest candidate. The GOP nomination race for the open Senate seat in Ohio is a case in point. Perhaps the most interesting example is in Georgia where Trump has backed former Senator David Perdue in his challenge to incumbent Governor Brian Kemp. Kemp’s sin was not a policy based aberration from Trumpian principle but his refusal to help Trump overturn the 2020 presidential result in the state. In a twist, and a challenge to Trump, the Republican Governors Association has backed Kemp. Polls suggest a close race between the two.

One irony is that many Democrats feel that their prospects are enhanced when Trump has a higher profile. They might reflect that a majority believed that to be the case in 2016. That view was mistaken then and however far short Trump fell in turning his populist rhetoric into governing reality his legacy goes beyond standard measures of presidential achievement. Trump’s personal longevity as a political force is uncertain and there are some signs that his hold over the GOP maybe slightly eroding, but his provocations intensified the divisions in an already divided polity in ways that will be extremely difficult to heal.

Dr Clodagh Harrington, Associate Professor in American Politics, De Montfort University, and Dr Alex Waddan, Associate Professor in American Politics and American Foreign Policy, University of Leicester.