PSA Parliaments will be convening a number of panels at PSA23. The 73rd Annual Conference of the Political Studies Association will be held in Liverpool and online between 3-5 April 2023 (full details can be found here).
The submission process is different from previous years in that specialist groups have been given an exclusive timeframe until the 12th September for them to receive papers and propose panels ahead of the open call in October.
If you would like to propose a paper or a panel to be held under the auspices of the prize-winning PSA Parliaments group, then please fill out this form.
As always, we do not have any preferences in terms of theory, method or empirical focus and we welcome papers from PhD students through to professors, as well as from practitioners. We are fully committed to avoiding all-male panels. We are also seeking to increase the proportion of papers on our panels from people from an ethnic minority background so please get in touch with Alexandra if you come from an ethnic minority background and would like to discuss how your research could be highlighted on our panels.
We hope to see as many of you there as possible for what promises to be another great conference!
Dr Mark Shephard is a Senior Lecturer at the University of Strathclyde. He is the Deputy Editor of the Journal of Legislative Studiesand theJoint Chair of the Study of Scottish Parliament Group.
Please tell us a little bit about how you entered academia and your academic career
I was one of “The 7” in the first full year (1988-1992) of Professor Lord Norton’s then Politics and Legislative Studies course. I worked in the European Parliament and the House of Commons in my vocational year of study (1990-91). I was going to teach English in Japan, but did really well in my final exams (I actually won a prize!) & ended up in Houston, Texas doing a PhD in Political Science. I then applied for a temporary job at the University of Strathclyde in the heart of Glasgow and I loved it so much – 24 years later – I’m still here!
Which five books/articles (written by someone else) have been most important to you in your academic career?
Richard Fenno – Home Style (I just could not put it down…it really got me hooked on legislatures and academia as a possible career).
Parliamentary Scrutiny of Government Bills by J.A.G. Griffith plus Parliamentary Questions by Mark Franklin and Philip Norton mashed with Robert Packenham’s article on legislative functions – the core theoretical underpinning and developmental basis for my mixed methods PhD on PMQs.
James Sundquist – Dynamics of a Party System (this really helped me start crack US politics at a deeper level of understanding).
Which person has been most influential and important to you in your academic career?
Professor Lord Norton + Professor Ed Page (my crucial formative Hull years) + most of the incredible Political Science Department at the University of Houston in the 1990s (e.g. Mark Franklin; David Judge (1993-94); Susan Scarrow; Kathleen Knight; Bob Erikson; Christopher Wlezien; Donald Lutz; Richard Murray; Ross Lence; James Gibson; Richard Matland; Robert Carp; Jay Greene…)
Which of your own pieces of research are you most proud of?
I’m not very good at liking my own work, but a student once said: “You are to politics what Kate Bush is to music”: my research seems to try out a lot of different methods on a lot of different topics (parliaments to social media to electoral behaviour to election campaigns…) often in quirky and/or pioneering ways (e.g. exploring questions asked by the PM rather than what we might otherwise study, or parliamentary impact over time and not just cross-sectionally…).
What has been your greatest achievement in academia?
Getting a PhD from The University of Houston, Texas (GRE exam + 3 years of relentless coursework + 30 hours of comprehensive exams over 3 days + 3 years on a PhD theory devising and theory testing using mixed methods. If you can do that, and survive without air conditioning in a Texas 108F Summer with 98% humidity, you can do anything…).
What has been your greatest disappointment in academia?
Not having enough time to do everything I want to do properly. If I could repeat it all over again, I’d probably not try and do as much as it takes time to jump around different fields…
What is the first or most important thing you tell your students about parliaments?
That they are multi-functional, and we need different procedures to fulfil very different functions. Beware the trap of evaluating the relevance of procedures just through the lens of legislative impact.
Where were you born, where did you grow up, and where do you live now?
Born in The Royal Canadian Hospital, Taplow, Buckinghamshire. Grew up on Shoreham Beach, West Sussex (and survived the strongest winds ever recorded (until 2022 storms) – 120mph on Shoreham Beach during the Great Storm of 1987 – we hid under the stairs as the roof started to peel). Have lived in Hull; Brussels; London; Houston, Texas; Glasgow; and I now live in Paisley, Scotland.
What was your first job?
A greengrocer in Shoreham.
What was the toughest job you ever had?
Teaching 3 classes during the height of lockdown and working 75 out of 77 days to deliver them properly.
What are your hobbies?
Gardening, photography, and painting.
What are your favourite novels?
One Day by David Nicholls (I still thank academia from saving me from a life of too much excess and fleeting celebrity!).
The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkein (the first book I ever got totally immersed in).
Animal Farm by George Orwell (if only the world had more Benjamins and Boxers).
Anything by Milan Kundera (some sentences just capture life experiences like nobody else does).
The first 3 Harry Potter books (the others needed an edit, too much sports and camping…).
What is your favourite music?
Anything by Kate Bush or Richard Hawley. If I had to pick one: Richard Hawley’s ‘Caravan’. It transports you to a sunny island instantly & at 2 minutes 29 seconds long, you can play it twice during a 5 minute break! I recommend it to all my students along with 2 other songs that will help get them through: “I Get Knocked Down, But I Get Up Again” and “Life is a Rollercoaster”.
What is your favourite artwork?
Rothko’s Seagram murals at The Tate Modern, London. If you sit still and watch the lilac oblongs on the mauve backgrounds you are taken to another world. Sometimes into the painting and sometimes out of the painting.
What is your favourite film?
Beautiful Thing by Jonathan Harvey (important piece of social political history and it is very funny and clever at the same time. I like to think it has helped make Britain a more tolerant place more embracing of difference).
What is your favourite building?
Brighton Royal Pavilion (like Brighton it is OTT to the max and I love it!).
What is your favourite tv show?
Victoria Wood as Seen on TV (I still remember most of the lines, for example, “Never touch prawns… Do you know they tread water outside sewage outlet pipes with their mouths open”).
What is your favourite holiday destination?
Lanzarote (warm sun in Winter + lovely architecture & volcano & sea vistas) + Sitges (close to Barcelona, but more chilled out and cosmopolitan).
What is your favourite sport?
Tennis and Badminton (because I used to be good at them).
Hybrid proceedings in Parliament: yes please or no thanks?
I think we will find ways to make this work better, so yes when needs must.
Appointed or elected upper chamber?
Appointed by an independent body representing a myriad of areas of expertise.
Restoration or Renewal?
Bit of both.
Cat or Dog?
Cat while in academia, both when I have more time in retirement.
Trains, planes or automobiles?
Bicycle.
Fish and chips or Curry?
Curry (with lots of salad).
Scones: Devonshire or Cornish Method?
Cream first, then jam (the scone often needs the moisturising ability of the cream that the jam does not have and I like the taste of jam first better than cream).
And, finally, a question asked by Seth, who is 9 and a half: Would you rather be a duck or a horse?
A duck, I adore water and, despite my love of a good party, mainly quite like being away from too many people.
This year, the SCIE Politics Club organized multiple events on the topic of UK select committees. We’ve witnessed many meaningful debates and thoughts coming out during the process.
At the start of the term, the Head of Humanities and Social Sciences faculty and founder of SCIE’s Politics club, Mr. Richard Driscoll introduced us to the basics of the select committee. To better answer our questions on how the select committee works in real life, Mr. Richard led us through a recent report published by the Health and Social Care and Science and Technology Committees, a select committee in the House of Commons[1]. It concluded the UK’s major lessons from Covid 19 regarding public health management by analyzing six critical areas of responses: preparedness, non-pharmaceutical intervention; social care; impact on different communities, and vaccines distribution. Within each section, specific statistics and quotations of experts are referenced.
We further discussed the comprehensiveness of the report by reading it in detail. A problem identified in the report was the lack of resources in the NHS. The Royal College of Midwives reported that “NHS was short of over 3,000 midwives and that 40% of RCM members worked three or more hours of unpaid overtime every week, suggesting that the NHS had been ‘reliant upon the goodwill of those who staff the system.'”,[2] the specific data of which provides convincing evidence of the credibility and accuracy of the report. However, the solution explicitly given to this problem, “the experience of the demands placed on the NHS during the covid-19 pandemic should lead to a more explicit, and monitored, surge capacity being part of the long term organization and funding of the NHS”[3], seems vague and unpromising. We are concerned that an unclear short-term and long-term target may be hard to follow up.
On January 6th, 2022, our school invited Dr. Alexandra Meakin from the University of Leeds to lecture on the select committee system in depth. A majority of our Politics Club members appreciated this opportunity and joined the event passionately. Dr Meakin showed us a detailed understanding of the working mechanism of the select committee and its composition. The lecture taught us that the select committee, usually a permanent division representing the public to examine and make recommendations to governmental policy, consists of MPs elected in the secret ballot. It conducts pre-appointed hearings with experts, goes through the written evidence submitted by experts, and ultimately forms reports to the government.
Most interestingly, she listed some common arguments about the strengths and weaknesses of the select committee, which inspires interesting thoughts in us. For example, statistics show that the select committee’s suggestions are relatively practical, among which the executives implement over 40% of recommendations. This helps improve policymaking a lot. Also, she explained the advantages of its membership which reflects the composition of parties in the Commons. Hence, a report representing a cross-party consensus would more forcefully influence the House of Commons.
However, she also admitted some flaws in the select committee. The cross-party composition may make the select committee less effective in giving a thorough recommendation, as reaching consensus may sacrifice some detailed plans. MPs are also busy with businesses outside the select committee, so they may not devote sufficient time to drafting a comprehensive report. Compared with the Commons in general, the select committee usually does poorly in terms of diversity. Most detrimentally, the select committee lacks formal power. They can not directly implement but merely suggest policies to the government. Nor does the committee have any mechanism to follow up the changes in governmental policies. That’s why around 60% of the recommendation provided by the committee cannot be implemented as expected.
Dr. Alexandra Meakin’s lecture inspires interesting thoughts among our club members. We actively participated in the Q&A session to discuss further the role of the select committee. One of our members asked about how the committee balances between the power constraint on the Chair, and the consistency of the policy recommendation or the committee’s expertise. To further explain, the student considered that giving the Chair a relatively huge power to control the committee’s agenda may be a prerequisite for systematic policy recommendation over time, yet this may allow the power of the Chair to grow uncontrollably – a threat to the democracy. Dr. Meakin agreed that this conflict constitutes the core conflict within the select committee. Based on her expert knowledge, she concluded that, in practice, different chairs solve this problem with their approach. Some may lean towards reaching a consensus in the committee at the sacrifice of effectiveness, while others may take a more rigid grip to reinforce their ideas. This would also have something to do with the composition of the committee. The extent of party politics in the committee may be a crucial factor determining how fiercely effectiveness collides with consensus.
Inspired by Dr. Meakin’s answer, another club member added a follow-up question. Because the composition of the committee reflects the composition of the Commons, the club member was wondering whether this membership benefits the majority party, and if so, to what extent the committee can still achieve its goal of supervising the government, especially over some fields at the core of party struggle. Dr. Meakin admitted the composition does somehow formally benefit the majority party while offering some counter-arguments for us to think about. For example, the backbench MPs don’t necessarily agree with the governmental policies, if not critical of it, thus are still likely to provide insightful recommendations. Also, being in the same party with the government, the MPs from the majority party are more incentivized to give constructive criticism for the governmental policies, as improving the government’s performance yields benefit in the elections. Yet, it’s correct to question the extent of criticism the committee can give. With the harsh party whip, a select committee with a majority of MPs from the majority party is unlikely to provide criticisms at the risk of infringing the government’s fundamental interests. In response, one student added another question: the select committee supervises the government, then what institution is responsible for overseeing the select committee? Dr. Meakin’s answer of “the Parliament” also led us to think about democracy in the UK. The lack of the absolute doctrine of separation of power in the UK political system may indicate the impossibility of strict supervision over the majority party’s power.
In addition to theoretical analysis, we have seen other interesting practical questions. One student extended our previous club activity to discuss the effectiveness of policy during the Covid and how the select committee may help improve that. Another student also asked about how the lesson from the select committee may improve our work at the student council. Dr. Meakin shared constructive suggestions for us from her years of experience working for a select committees. The event ultimately concluded with our heated discussion and abundant new knowledge in our heads.
With continued interest in the topic, we plan to organize a Mock Education Select Committee at the Humanities and Social Sciences week at our school, on the subject of “cap on the number of international students admitted in the UK universities,” a relevant topic to us all. Members from our Political Club will represent the 11 MPs in the committee, while four competitors outside of the club will act as four experts to provide written evidence and go through a hearing process. We hope that this event can boost students’ interest in political affairs and encourage critical thinking throughout the process.
Author Details
Winnie Zhou is 18 years old and is a student at Shenzhen College of International Education (SCIE).
[1] Health and Social Care, and Science and Technology Committees, House of Commons. “Coronavirus: lessons learned to date: Sixth Report of the Health and Social Care Committee and Third Report of the Science and Technology Committee of Session 2021–22.” Sept. 2021, https://committees.parliament.uk/publications/7496/documents/78687/default/
The current Prime Minister’s long running battle with the Seven Principles of Public Lifecontinues to gather pace. Boris Johnson’s actions relating to the pandemic ‘partygate’ scandalhave arguably violated each of the principles established by the Nolan Committee in 1995: selflessness, integrity, objectivity, accountability, openness, honesty and leadership. The Prime Minister’s full house of ethical violations concerning his attendance and subsequent denials of social gatherings held in Downing Street, contrary to lockdown restrictions, have also yielded Fixed Penalty Notices from the police for him, his Chancellor, his wife, and other government officials, with the prospect of more to follow. Yet the Prime Minister remains committed to staying in post, and has refused to resign.
A key accusation made against Johnson by Peter Hennessy (the historian and now member of the House of Lords) is that his actions during the partygate scandal, combined with his refusal to resign, have ‘shredded the Ministerial Code’, generating ‘the most severe constitutional crisis involving a Prime Minister that I can remember’. Similarly, the political journalist Robert Peston has argued that if Conservative MPs refuse to topple Johnson, they will ‘blithely ignore the ministerial code’, with the consequence that ‘the constitution means little or nothing’.
It is of course understandable why the Ministerial Code has had such prominence in this episode – it is a relatively clear, succinct, and publicly accessible statement of some relevant rules and principles concerning ministerial conduct. The very idea of a ‘Ministerial Code’ sounds constitutionally important, and also effectively highlights the hypocrisy of Johnson apparently refusing to adhere to the standards applicable to ‘ordinary’ ministers, given the Code is formally issued in each new Prime Minister’s name accompanied by a personalised foreword preaching about the importance of upholding ‘the very highest standards of propriety’ (2019).
Yet the pre-eminence of the Ministerial Code in debates concerning the Prime Minister’s conduct also raises some important questions. In particular, in this blog post I want to consider whether the Ministerial Code is the best reference point by which to assess the Prime Minister’s actions, and what impact its central status could have on the debate around whether the Prime Minister should resign.
There are two key issues which make it questionable whether the Ministerial Code should be the primary tool for critiquing the conduct of the Prime Minister. First, the fact that the authority of the Code flows from the Prime Minister, and is therefore a statement of constitutional principles derived from the executive. Second, the specificity of the Code – and especially the rules concerning the provision of accurate information to Parliament – seems to invite quite technical analysis of the Prime Minister’s conduct, and even his state of mind, when assessing whether the legislature has been misled.
The PM as Arbiter of the Code
First, it is made explicitly clear that the Ministerial Code is the Prime Minister’s document, and it is for the Prime Minister to apply and enforce: ‘Ministers only remain in office for so long as they retain the confidence of the Prime Minister. He is the ultimate judge of the standards of behaviour expected of a Minister and the appropriate consequences of a breach of those standards’ (2019, para 1.6). This was also accepted by the High Court in the recent case of FDA v Prime Minister [2021] EWHC 3279 (Admin). While the court (dubiously, in my view) held that some questions relating to the Ministerial Code might be justiciable (in this case, the interpretation given to the concept of ‘bullying’), Lewis LJ and Steyn J acknowledged at para [60] that the Prime Minister was the ultimate decision-maker in relation to whether there had been a departure from the standards set out in the Code.
Of course, it has long been true that a Prime Minister has the decisive say over ministerial resignations. Writing in 1956, long before the publication of a Ministerial Code, the political theorist Samuel Finer – who was sceptical about the ‘constitutional folk-lore’ concerning the existence of a ‘supposed’ resignation convention – identified three factors which determined whether a minister would lose their office: ‘if the Minister is yielding, his Prime Minister unbending and his party out for blood’. If, as in the present circumstances, the minister under pressure is also the Prime Minister, then his or her decision-making effectively accounts for two out of three of these variables.
Yet if criticism of Boris Johnson’s conduct is made against the benchmark of the Ministerial Code, of which he is the stated arbiter, this sets up an accountability paradigm which is entirely premised on the fact that it is a matter of the Prime Minister’s own moral calculation whether to resign. If Finer’s third variable – the attitude of the political party – was already peripheral, in focusing on the text of the Ministerial Code it is written out of the picture.
This first limitation of accountability via the Ministerial Code is now partly being addressed by Parliament taking a greater role in the accountability process. The vote last week in the House of Commons to order an investigation into the Prime Minister’s statements to Parliament about the non-occurrence of parties in Downing Street is a welcome reminder that it is a matter for the Commons to determine whether a Prime Minister has misled the House. But while it will surely add to the overall political pressure on Johnson and the government, any such investigation remains some way off – pending the completion of the police investigation and the publication of Sue Gray’s full and final report – and the consequences of it are difficult to anticipate, especially if the Prime Minister manages to survive until that point. The Conservative Party has a majority on the Privileges Committee, which will carry out the investigation without its current chair Chris Bryant, who has recused himself on the basis of his previous criticism of Johnson. A vote on any recommended sanctions would then come back to the whole House, where the Conservatives also enjoy the protection of a substantial majority. And while potential sanctions include a (likely short) suspension from the Commons, the Privileges Committee could not instruct Johnson to resign as Prime Minister.
More importantly, Conservative MPs have not to this point lacked a formal means to remove the Prime Minister, which they could attempt through a no confidence vote in his leadership of the party or even in his government – instead, it has been the unwillingness of a majority of MPs to use these constitutional mechanisms which has ensured Johnson remains Prime Minister. But at least these parliamentary developments have refocused the debate and remind us that, in this case, whatever the text of the Ministerial Code may say, the Prime Minister does not have the exclusive power to determine his own fate.
Avoiding Technicalities
The second challenge raised by the pursuit of Prime Ministerial accountability by reference to the Ministerial Code is that it may be encouraging an unhelpfully technical approach to the rules which prohibit misleading Parliament. The relevant provision of the Code (which is replicated in a Commons resolution of 19 March 1997, Cols. 1046-47) says ‘It is of paramount importance that Ministers give accurate and truthful information to Parliament, correcting any inadvertent error at the earliest opportunity. Ministers who knowingly mislead Parliament will be expected to offer their resignation to the Prime Minister’ (2019, para 1.3(c)). This provision is unusual in the Code in identifying a specific potential sanction – resignation – for misleading Parliament. And there is also plenty here for those who are used to dealing with legal rules to get their interpretive teeth into, in particular the question of when an error will count as ‘inadvertent’, and what it means for a Minister to mislead Parliament ‘knowingly’.
The risk, however, is that focusing on the textual formulation of this rule encourages a legalistic approach which distracts from the underlying normative purpose of the principle that Ministers should not mislead Parliament. There will be rapidly diminishing returns from a debate about whether ‘knowingly’ means the Prime Minister must have intentionally or consciously lied to Parliament to violate the relevant norm, or whether having (or claiming to have) a misguided subjective belief that he was giving accurate information based on the assurances he had received would be sufficient to avoid a technical violation. It also, crucially, sets up the defence Johnson has already used to deny he misled Parliament – that it did not occur to him ‘then or subsequently’ that the gathering he attended to celebrate his birthday would be a breach of the law, so in that sense there has been no knowing deception.
Instead, when establishing whether the Prime Minister misled the Commons, his alleged state of mind need not be the decisive factor. The scale and significance of the misleading claims are also material, a point which emerges from the speech of Harold Macmillan in the debatefollowing the resignation of John Profumo for misleading the House of Commons in 1963: ‘I do not remember in the whole of my life, or even in the political history of the past, a case of a Minister of the Crown who has told a deliberate lie to his wife, to his legal advisers and to his Ministerial colleagues, not once but over and over again, who has then repeated this lie to the House of Commons’ (HC Deb 17 June 1963 vol.679, cols.54-55).
In relation to partygate, the current Prime Minister expressed a clear position, repeated in the House of Commons and elsewhere (on one count, the denials of rule breaking were made some 39 times), about a matter of major public significance, which has proved to be inaccurate. Going down the rabbit hole of whether the Prime Minister did or did not know that he was misleading the Commons is a distraction from the fact that, regardless, he ought to have known. Especially as the head of the government which enacted the relevant secondary legislation regulating the response to Covid-19, as the political leader responsible for communicating the need for and effect of these rules directly to the people, via television press conferences on a regular basis throughout the pandemic, or even simply (as we are frequently reminded) as a public figure who obtained an education from an expensive school and a leading university.
There is a recent precedent which reinforces this approach. In 2018, Amber Rudd resigned as Home Secretary having misled the House of Commons Home Affairs Select Committee over the existence of immigrant removal targets. The information she relied on was prepared by civil servants within her department, but in her resignation letter to the then Prime Minister Theresa May, Rudd wrote ‘I have reviewed the advice I was given on this issue and become aware of information provided to my office which makes mention of targets. I should have been aware of this, and I take full responsibility for the fact that I was not’ (emphasis added).
There are of course a multitude of factors which shape any ministerial resignation, and no doubt Rudd’s departure from office was influenced by other considerations. They include the objectionable nature of the removal targets which she had denied existed, wider public outrage about the deportation and denial of rights by the state of the generation of black Commonwealth citizens caught up in the Windrush scandal, and the fact that Rudd’s resignation might be viewed as a form of sacrificial accountability which protected her Prime Minister Theresa May, who as Home Secretary had been the leading architect of the hostile environment immigration strategy which led to Windrush.
Yet with all these caveats, Amber Rudd’s resignation shows that we need not get caught up in excessively technical arguments about the Prime Minister’s state of mind which are elevated in this debate by overfocusing on the written text of the Ministerial Code. In constitutional terms, this is a precedent which indicates the Prime Minister should be expected to resign.
Nevertheless, even in a situation where 78% of the public do not believe the Prime Minister’s claims, there is no authority which can compel him to accept this conclusion and resign (although as Alison Young points out, there are still consequences for him to bear in the meantime, in the form of vociferous political criticism). Looking beyond the Ministerial Code, however, at least allows us to construct the argument that the “it never crossed my mind” defence is an inadequate defence – constitutional principles have been violated, because the Ministerial Code is not exhaustive or determinative of the Prime Minister’s obligations to Parliament.
Conclusion
The Ministerial Code is a valuable document in clarifying many standards applicable to government ministers in an accessible way. But over-emphasis on the Ministerial Code as the central instrument of political accountability generates some challenges.
If the Ministerial Code becomes a de facto replacement for the deeper constitutional conventions of ministerial responsibility, rather than a supplement to them, it imports a key structural problem: it emphasises the PM–Cabinet accountability relationship over the government–Parliament accountability relationship. This is especially problematic when it is the Prime Minister whose conduct is the subject of scrutiny, as well as being the formal source of these ethical rules within government. Reliance on the Ministerial Code as the primary vehicle for establishing ministerial standards also demonstrates that, as well as generating the potential for accountability, the existence of precise written rules can be a limitation if those rules are susceptible to being interpreted narrowly.
These tensions are evident in the debate about whether the Prime Minister should resign over partygate. The Ministerial Code is obviously not the main problem in the UK constitution at present, but it is nevertheless worth considering how a shift in constitutional discourse might create some scope for more effective accountability in practice.
I’m very grateful to Alison Young for her comments on an earlier draft of this post.
Mike Gordon, Professor of Constitutional Law, University of Liverpool
This post was originally published on the UK Constitutional Law Blog. Republished with the permission of the author.
(Suggested citation: M. Gordon, ‘The Prime Minister, the Parties, and the Ministerial Code’, U.K. Const. L. Blog (27th Apr. 2022) (available at https://ukconstitutionallaw.org/))
Dr Louise Thompson is a Senior Lecturer at the University of Manchester. She is the author of Making British Law: Committees in Action (Palgrave), co-editor of Exploring Parliament (OUP) and the journal Parliamentary Affairs, and is the recent winner of the PSA’sRichard Rose Prize, which is awarded to an early career scholar who has made a distinctive contribution to British politics.
Please tell us a little bit about how you entered academia and your academic career
I started my undergraduate degree in British Politics and Legislative Studies at Hull University in 2003. It was fab, but after a placement year at Westminster with Labour MP Ed Balls just after the 2005 General Election I thought “proper” politics was the place to be. I worked at the Smith Institute for six months when I graduated, then as an opposition researcher for the Labour Party for a couple of years. I did an online MA part time (also at Hull) while I was working at the Labour Party and then came back to Hull properly to do my PhD. And that was that.
Which five books/articles (written by someone else) have been most important to you in your academic career?
The British Polity (Philip Norton) I read this as an A Level student and honestly, I used to carry that book everywhere. I bought it from a Politico’s catalogue I think when I first started sixth form.
Parliamentary Scrutiny of Government Bills (JAG Griffith): A super super book that inspired my PhD. I still use it all the time.
J Blondel et al, ‘Legislative Behaviour: Some steps towards a cross party measurement’, Government and Opposition, Vol. 5 (1) 1970, pp. 67-85: As above, the idea of viscosity was the basis of my PhD research. I got an email from Jean out of the blue a few years ago. He’d read one of my articles about the SNP at Westminster and we had lunch together to chat about it. Amazing.
Legislatures (Philip Norton ed): As a undergraduate student at Hull this was THE book to get your hands on. It was out of print and we’d all try to find it on amazon but it was always over a £100 for a second hand copy. When we were on placement in parliament my course mate (and now husband) got it out of the House of Commons library and we (kind of illegally) photocopied the whole thing. Apologies to the Commons library. We are very sorry. I’ve still got the photocopy in a folder in my office and I use it all the time. But I did also finally manage to get an amazon copy for a fiver. It only took about 15 years of waiting.
Which person has been most influential and important to you in your academic career?
There’s a bit of a Hull theme to all these answers, It has to be the one and only Cristina Leston-Bandeira. When I went to the Hull University open day my mum embarrassed me in front of her and Lord Norton (I still cringe about that). Cristina taught me from my very first week as an undergraduate student and I can still remember so many of her tutorials. If I needed any help, she was always the one I would go to. She taught me on my MA and became one of my PhD supervisors. I used to describe her as my academic ‘mum’ – holding my hand through everything and cheering me up/ taking me out for lunch when I was miserable. When I had my first baby she came round to my house with baking. When I’ve had rejections at work she’s always the one with the smiling face and the good advice. She’s my best mate and god mum to my eldest daughter, Alba. Alba knows her only as ‘Portuguese Cristina’. In fact, in our house she is known only as Portuguese Cristina, or CLB. Hopefully she knows how special she is to us all!
What is the first or most important thing you tell your students about parliaments?
That they are NOT government!
Where were you born, where did you grow up, and where do you live now?
I was born in Keighley, West Yorkshire. I lived there with my mum and my sister until I went to University. I’ve moved around a lot since then (London, back to Hull, Kent, London again, back to Hull, Surrey, Kent again, then Sheffield). I’m still in Sheffield right now, but about to move back to where I grew up. I’m surrounded by boxes as I write this.
What was your first job?
I got a job working in Greggs when I was about 17 because I wanted to save up for a laptop for when I went to university. I worked Saturdays plus one evening in the week to clean the shop. At the end of the day we could buy the leftover cakes for about 10p each so I’d bring them all home. I still love Greggs. I took the kids there today! I had a paper round at the same time that I hated. My dad is a mechanic and I used to wash ALL the cars on the garage forecourt where he worked each week in the school holidays for a tenner, with my sister. It took us ages.
What was the toughest job you ever had?
I used to do temp work over the summer holidays and one summer landed a job as an arrears chaser for a mortgage company. That was really horrid.
Working at the Labour party during the MP expenses scandal was also a tough one. Being asked to scroll through Conservative MP expense claims to look for daft items was the point at which I realised that politics was not for me.
What are your hobbies?
They mainly revolve around the kids at the moment. I like baking when I have time (anything but biscuits, I just can’t make biscuits) and I read a lot on the train to work. I do some volunteering for the Breastfeeding Network. In a couple of months I’ll be starting some shifts on the National Breastfeeding Helpline.
What are your favourite novels?
The Time Traveller’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. I read this book as a student on placement and decided while reading it that if I ever had a daughter I would name her Alba, after the little girl in the book. My very own Alba is now 8 years old and just as independent and feisty as her namesake.
Recent books I’ve really liked are The Silence of the Girls (Pat Barker) and The Binding (Bridget Collins). I read all sorts of random stuff though, usually on the train to Manchester.
What is your favourite film?
Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Best final scene of any movie.
What is your favourite tv show?
My favourite question of them all. As a teenager I became the biggest fan of the 80s TV programme The A Team. Still love it. And I have a massive collection of A Team memorabilia stored in my mum’s attic that I don’t think she is very keen on me leaving there. I keep a Mr T badge in my kitchen drawer that always has (and still does) come with me for anything important – exams, interviews, driving tests. It’s my good luck charm, even though it doesn’t always bring me good luck. It came to five driving tests with me!
I also watch far too much Netflix while I’m ironing. I have a LOT of ironing. I love sci fi programmes –Star Trek, Shadow and Bone, Stranger Things etc. Anything with vampires (I know, I’m totally sad) – I watched Discovery of Witches over the Christmas holidays which was fantastic. Bridgerton, The Gilded Age etc are also guilty pleasures.
What is your favourite holiday destination?
I’m not the sort of person who gets excited about holidays but everyone else in my house does. My husband loves Cyprus, as do the kids, so we’ve been there a lot. Iceland (pre-children!) was also beautiful.
Hybrid proceedings in Parliament: yes please or no thanks?
Yes, definitely. But done in the right way.
Appointed or elected upper chamber?
Appointed (I was Lord Norton’s student. How could I answer anything else?!).
Restoration or Renewal?
Both.
Cat or Dog?
Cats. Always cats. We have one big fluffy one called Flower.
Fish and chips or Curry?
Depends, I love both, but if it’s curry it’s got to be veggie dhansak.
Trains, planes or automobiles?
Cars if they’re electric. Love trains. Hate flying.
Scones: Devonshire or Cornish Method?
Neither because I really don’t like cream. It’s jam only for me unless I’m feeling brave.
And, finally, a question asked by Seth, who is 9 and a half: What was your favourite subject at school and why?
Geography. I had the best geography teacher, Glenda Priestnall who made me obsessed with rivers, volcanoes, earthquakes etc and took us on fieldtrips to the coast to study the sand dunes. If I hadn’t done politics, I would have done a geography degree.
Professor Cheryl Schonhardt-Bailey is Professor and Head of the Departmentof Government at LSE. She is the author of Deliberative Accountability in Parliamentary Committees (Oxford University Press).
Please tell us a little bit about how you entered academia and your academic career
I didn’t intend to be an academic at all. When I applied to graduate school, I was only going to do a masters (it was a combined masters/PhD programme) and then move on to the world of corporate work. I only applied to 2 graduate programmes and was accepted by just one, so it was an easy decision on where to go! In any case, I rather liked academia (and it seemed to be going well), so one year led to another year and eventually I ended up with a PhD!
Which five books/articles (written by someone else) have been most important to you in your academic career?
Mancur Olson, The Logic of Collective Action;
David Mayhew, The Electoral Connection;
Alan Blinder, Central Banking in Theory and Practice;
Memoirs by the Right Honourable Sir Robert Peel, Part III;
Melvin J. Hinich and Michael C. Munger, Ideology and the Theory of Political Choice.
(but ask me tomorrow, and I may give you another list…)
Which person has been most influential and important to you in your academic career?
Brian Barry. I was familiar with his work before coming to the LSE, but he was a true mentor and friend to me while he was at LSE.
Which of your own pieces of research are you most proud of?
My book on Repeal (From the Corn Laws to Free Trade) and my most recent book, Deliberative Accountability in Parliamentary Committees (mainly because of the cool chapter on nonverbal communication).
What has been your greatest achievement in academia?
Surviving being Head of the LSE Government Department during Covid and enacting some pretty fundamental changes in the department in the process. (However, I still have until 1st July to serve, so I’m only assuming that I’ll survive!).
What has been your greatest disappointment in academia?
It may sound strange, but I’m not sure that I have a “greatest disappointment”. Sure, there were lots of setbacks and down times, but I wouldn’t say that there was some catastrophic event. Not yet, at least.
What is the first or most important thing you tell your students about parliaments?
Incentives matter. But so does deliberation. Or at least it should.
Where were you born, where did you grow up, and where do you live now?
Boise, Idaho (USA)—born and raised. I now live in the “leafy suburbs” of London.
What was your first job?
First informal job was babysitting (at age 11, looking after 3 kids—I think that this would be illegal these days!). First formal job (with paycheck) was at age 15 in a music store as a sales assistant.
What was the toughest job you ever had?
Actually there were two. One was working in a printing shop over a summer while in high school. I was unbelievably bored. The second was a graveyard shift (11pm to 7am) for a data processing firm over a summer when I was in graduate school. I hated working graveyard.
What are your hobbies?
Playing the piano and digital photography. Both of these have been drastically curtailed while I’ve been serving as Head of Department, since I have very little leisure time. Only 3 ½ months more to go and then I can resume my hobbies!
What are your favourite novels?
Okay, I rather like romance novels. Sad but true. But there is a back history here. I adored reading novels up to about age 18, but then when I went off to university, I thought that I better stop reading for pleasure. All reading needed to be intellectual and/or academic. That carried on until I was about 42 years old and reading Harry Potter books to my kids. I thought, why on earth did I stop reading novels? It’s relaxing and I enjoy it! What’s wrong with that?
What is your favourite music?
I’m rather eclectic in my music choices, but I do like the soundtrack to the movie, The Mission. It’s a terrific movie, but with a very tragic story. It’s also deeply spiritual and the soundtrack reflects that.
What are your favourite artworks?
Georgia O’Keeffe. I love the microscopic detail.
What is your favourite film?
The Shawshank Redemption; The Martian. I’m sure that there are more, but the basic point is that I like movies that depict human triumph over adversity (who wouldn’t?).
What is your favourite building?
A certain cabin in Idaho. I love the mountains.
What is your favourite tv show?
I’m not sure I have a favourite one. Covid has definitely encouraged us to watch a lot more TV, but mostly those have been series (e.g., Homeland, The Queen’s Gambit, The Americans). On the whole, the ones that I’ve admired all had inherently good stories, excellent acting and oddly enough, somewhat ambiguous endings.
What is your favourite holiday destination?
Idaho (it’s home). But I’ve loved a few other places—e.g., Dubrovnik, the Scottish Highlands, Orvieto, the Canadian Rockies. The ideal combination is a bit of history and a lot of mountains.
What are your favourite sports?
Skiing, swimming, walking. Skiing because the mountains are beautiful, and I can go FAST! Swimming because I feel insulated from the world. And walking because it calms me down and allows me to think.
Hybrid proceedings in Parliament: yes please or no thanks?
No thanks.
Appointed or elected upper chamber?
Elected is more fun, but appointed allows time for reflection and deliberation.
Restoration or Renewal?
What’s wrong with both?
Cat or Dog?
100% dog.
Fish and chips or Curry?
Definitely fish and chips. I think I had curry some 34 years ago and decided it was not for me.
Trains, planes or automobiles?
Trains.
Scones: Devonshire or Cornish Method?
I had to look this one up, but I note that both have cream, so either is fine with me.
And, finally, a question asked by Seth, who is 9 and a half: Which person in history would you most like to have been?
I don’t think that I would actually like to “be” someone else, but I would love to have watched Richard Cobden as he led the Anti Corn Law League or followed Lewis and Clark on their Expedition across the Pacific Northwest.
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
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).
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.
Professor Meg Russell is Professor of British and Comparative Politics and Director of the Constitution Unitat 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?
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.
