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Obstruction, Alternation, and Amendments: Evidence from Israel

By Tal Elovits.

Obstruction in parliament dates back to the eighteenth century when legislatures became more diverse and democratic. Parliamentary obstruction is a deliberate strategy used within legislative bodies to delay or prevent legislation from being passed. A minority or individual legislators commonly use it to oppose the majority will. While conscious obstruction can be a strategic tool within a democratic system, its misuse can jeopardize the democratic principles that it means to protect. It can potentially reduce legislative power while increasing executive power, putting the democratic principle of broad representation at risk. If an obstruction is used excessively, it can endanger the proper functioning of legislative bodies, possibly threatening the future of parliamentary government. As a result, extreme caution is essential while employing obstruction techniques (Bell, 2018; Rutherford, 1914).

Previous study points out that obstruction using legislative instruments may be connected to government alternation. According to Zucchini (2011), who used the Italian case study to explore the relationship, the opposition is likelier to use delay tactics following an alternation government, and the more the opposition is ideologically cohesive, the greater the chance they will use obstruction tactics. In this study, I wish to explore the relationship between alternation and legislative obstruction in Israel following the alternation government of 2021 and specifically ask how the alternation affected the amendment’s introduction in the Israeli Knesset. Furthermore, when were amendments used more strategically? The use of amendments in the legislative process will measure legislative obstruction, and this study will be the first to analyze amendments in the Israeli parliament.

As a part of the legislative process, amendment is an instrument that allows parliament members to suggest changes to a bill under deliberation, usually by a committee. In the same way that private members have the right to introduce private member bills, private members may propose changes to a bill. Typically, amendments introduced by individual members of parliament (MPs) are voted on before the final vote of the plenum (Behrens et al., 2023; Mattson, 1995; Palau et al., 2023). Although a form of amendment as a parliamentary instrument can be found in many legislatures, they differ greatly in their restrictions, stage of voting, and deliberation time assigned to a bill considered in the final vote (Strøm, 1995).

The Israeli parliament posits an interesting and vibrant arena to study the possible effects of government alternation. In 2021, what is known as the “right bloc,” led by long-serving PM Benjamin Netanyahu, lost its governmental positions, and Israel had for a year an alternation government for the first time in 15 years. As illustrated in Figure 1, this special circumstance allows us to question and study the possible effects of government alternation in Israel and to provide further empirical evidence for the study of legislative behavior. We set two hypotheses for our study. H1 – Government alternation increases amendment introduction. H2 – Narrow ideological differences between opposition parties foster strategic cooperation.

Figure 1 – Israel political parties 2015-2022 with their coalition status

In Israel, amendments are the only tool allowing parliament members to gain debate time at the committee and the plenary. Each amendment allows a 5-minute speech for each sponsor, which can be multiplied, sometimes reaching hundreds of debate hours on a single bill (Akirav et al., 2010). Therefore, when studying legislative obstruction in Israel, using parliament members in amendments becomes a vital measurement.

Although amendments have been in use in the Israeli parliament since its first day, no data is available for analysis, and retrieving this requires manual analysis of bills in their final wording. This study covers 2015-2022, 3 legislative terms – the 20th, 23rd, and 24th and three different governments, as seen in Figure 1. In the study period, 791 non-budgetary bills have reached the final wording stage. Amendments data was collected manually regarding each bill. Further data, such as the legislative committee, bill category, type of legislation, and when the bill was introduced, were mined from the Knesset Odata API service. In total, 24,001 amendments were gathered. Figure 2 shows the share of bills with amendments by legislative term and yearly quarter. Even without any further statistical analysis, one can notice the different pattern that the 24th term presents.

Figure 2 – Share of bills with amendments 2015–2022

The data gathered was also statistically manipulated to uncover possible mechanisms explaining this change in using amendments. I have constructed two dependent variables: Amendments – dummy, where one is when a bill is introduced with amendment(s), and Strategic – dummy, where one is when amendments are introduced by half or more of the effective number of opposition members. The study hypothesis was tested using statistical Probit regression in Stata in two models —the first tested alternation as an independent variable, and the second focused on the Knesset term as an independent variable. Table 1 presents the results of the two models. Further marginal analysis was done following the first model to uncover the probability of a bill being introduced with amendments under an alternate government. The results, illustrated in Figure 3, show that while under continuous government, the probability for a bill to be introduced with the amendment is 26.4%, under alternation government, the probability rises to 70.8%, supporting the first hypothesis.

Table 1 – Probit model results for amendments and strategic (1)

Figure 3 – Margin analysis following first model probit regression

The result of the second model supports this study’s second hypothesis. As the opposition becomes cohesive, they will increase their cooperation, acting more strategically, providing additional evidence for earlier theoretical and empirical studies suggesting that when ideological distance is small, they are more likely to coordinate in the parliamentary arena (Dewan & Spirling, 2011; Kaiser, 2008; Whitaker & Martin, 2022).

Our analysis also suggests that the use of amendment is related to the legislative term cycle, where both the first month of the new government and the period following parliament dissolution appear to have an effect with a slightly significant positive coefficient and a highly significant negative coefficient, in accordance. At the beginning of a new government, regardless of the alternation status, the probability that a bill will introduced with amendment increases, and this probability drops significantly following parliament dissolution. We found no significant effect on the bill’s content or the committee it deliberated in.

This study’s findings open a wide window into how parliamentarian obstruction may look in Israel and shed light on the use of amendments in the Knesset. Alternation fuels opposition resistance. In Israel, this resistance manifested through the use of amendments. However, one must be aware that with obstructing comes anti-obstruction measures by the majority of parliament. This tit-for-tat escalation into a pattern of obstruction and retaliation can poison the spirit of mutual respect between parties. Partisan mistrust and even demonization replace good faith assumptions of sincerity and reasonableness. Thus, while limited obstruction may sometimes be justified, oppositions must also weigh the risks of it becoming entrenched in political culture. When this balance is disrupted, and the opposition resorts to obstructionist tactics without a clear strategy or purpose, it can weaken the legislature and, by extension, lead to democratic backsliding.

This study sheds light on the important role that amendments play in the hands of Knesset opposition members as a significant instrument in filling the gap in the existing scholarship. Furthermore, this study provides important empirical evidence for the use of legislative instruments by opposition parties, especially in the light of government alternation. Future studies, expanding this study period, might allow us to uncover additional patterns of the use of amendments in Israel’s busy parliament.

This short blog post is part of the author’s PhD project, “The Knesset: A Busy Parliaments in the 2020s”.

About the author

Tal Elovits is a PhD fellow at the Department of Social and Political Sciences, University of Milan, Milan, Italy. Former faction director in the Israeli parliament. tal.elovits@unimi.it ORCID: 0000- 0003-2681-1445

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Making the Law Count: The UK Post-Legislative Gap

By Tom Caygill.

Over recent years, engagement in post-legislative scrutiny in Westminster has declined. A mixture of events (e.g. Brexit) and crises (e.g. Coronavirus) has pushed post-legislative review (by government departments) and, as a result wider, post-legislative scrutiny (undertaken by parliamentary committees) down the government and parliamentary agenda. In this blog post, I examine the nature of this decline, the wider reasons for it and suggest how we can move forward from here. As the UK Parliament is often placed on a pedestal as an example of how to approach post-legislative scrutiny, it is vital that it continues to lead by example.

In 2008, the UK Government agreed to introduce a systematic process of post-legislative review by government departments. Legislation would receive a departmental review within three to five years of that Act entering the statute books. Once such a review was completed, a memorandum containing its findings would be sent to the relevant departmental select committee in the House of Commons, for additional scrutiny. 

My 2021 report for the Westminster foundation for Democracy examined the extent and effect of post-legislative review and scrutiny between 2008-2019. Although it was rarely used to begin with, there was an increase in the number of published memoranda by government departments particularly between 2010 and 2015. This also coincided with an activist House of Commons Liaison Committee which was keen to ensure that select committee were undertaking a breadth of different forms of scrutiny (including post-legislative scrutiny).

The story since 2015 however has been a continued decline in the number of post-legislative reviews being undertaken by government departments which means fewer are being sent to House of Commons Select Committees. Although select committees do not need a government post-legislative review in order to initiate post-legislative scrutiny they are considered to be useful triggers to get select committees to consider undertaking post-legislative scrutiny.

Figure 1: Post-Legislative Reviews 2008-2023


Figure 1 shows the extent of the decline which has taken place since a peak in 2012. There are a number of factors which could be at play here. Two big factors slowing the pace of post-legislative review are Brexit and the Coronavirus pandemic which monopolised the intellectual capacity of government departments, for understandable reasons. This pushed post-legislative reviews off departmental agendas, but they have not returned to the agenda of government departments. Another factor potentially at play here is that between 2010 and 2015, the bulk of post-legislative reviews would fall upon the legislation of a previous government (from a different party). There is therefore likely to be a change in enthusiasm from reviewing your predecessors’ legislation rather than reviewing your own. In British politics, governments do not like to admit mistakes as they view it as a sign of weakness.

A further factor here, which coincides with the decline of post-legislative review, is that the House of Commons Liaison Committee since 2015 has taken a less proactive role in shaping the agenda of the committee system. This also means there is no one overseeing the agreement between the Cabinet Office and Committee Office made in 2008. For more information on the gap in scrutiny see my 2020 article on the UK post-legislative scrutiny gap.

There is also a lack of coordination in Whitehall. Lord Norton of Louth has submitted a number of parliamentary questions over recent months in order to identify why post-legislative review has seemingly ground to a halt (no post-legislative reviews have been published on www.gov.uk in 2023). From her answer on the 7th August (figure 2), the Minister makes clear that no further post-legislative scrutiny work is expected within government before the end of 2023.


Figure 2: Parliamentary Question from Lord Norton on post-legislative review currently taking place.


It does look like we will end 2023 without any post-legislative reviews having taken place. As noted above there is no oversight of this agreement which will only contribute to the lack of urgency from government to undertake these reviews.

The lack of co-ordination in Whitehall is also visible in her response (figure 3) to a follow up question from Lord Norton on the 27th September 2023.

Figure 3: Parliamentary Question from Lord Norton on which Acts the government considers eligible for post-legislative review.

The fact that the Cabinet Office does not hold information centrally does give away that there is at best limited coordination and oversight of what is happening in government departments in relation to post-legislative review. At the moment the future of post-legislative reviews does not look promising. Although I will note again that this does not prevent post-legislative scrutiny being undertaken. Indeed, special inquiry committees in the House of Lords will initiate an inquiry without a post-legislative review and then ask for one. Further to this, over the course of the last couple of sessions, there have been between 3-4 inquiries across both Houses. So while post-legislative scrutiny has not stopped, the number of inquiries has reduced.

So what might happen next? This of course could be corrected if there were to be a change in government following the 2024 General Election with a future Labour Government being more than happy to review Conservative legislation. However, we would face the same issue of enthusiasm draining as the term of office goes on. So doing nothing is likely to lead to a repeat of the past 15 years with a peak shortly after an election and then a steady decline.

A more proactive response is needed. There is a need for someone to start overseeing the process of post-legislative review and that should be from the parliamentary perspective as government departments will find reasons not to do them without parliamentary pressure. The Scottish Parliament’s Convenors Group (made up of committee convenors) has made post-legislative scrutiny a strategic priority for the sixth session of the Parliament, and this is having results with eight inquiries having been undertaken since the start of 2022 (and more in the pipeline), with two and a half years to go of this session. It looks set to break records in the parliament. A strategic focus can clearly make a difference and this could be something which returns to the House of Commons Liaison Committee or the House of Lords Liaison Committee (which decides which Acts will receive post-legislative scrutiny via special inquiry committees in the Lords). There have also been arguments for a dedicated joint post-legislative scrutiny committee to over see the process across both Houses but to also monitor the agreement between the Cabinet Office and the Committee Office. A simpler approach would be to create a dedicated space for post-legislative scrutiny on the UK Parliament website, in a similar way to which draft bills (for pre-legislative scrutiny) are featured on the ‘Bills & Legislation’ section of the website. This is also an approach undertaken by the Scottish Parliament. There is also an argument that after 15 years, this agreement is in need of review (indeed many in Westminster argue that these reviews should take place 10 years after passage rather than 3-5 years). This is something that either a dedicated committee or one of the Liaison Committees could do. It is clear from the perspective of the House of Commons (in particular) that there is more work to do to institutionalise post-legislative scrutiny in Westminster. As we approach the end of the 2019 Parliament, this is an important time to reflect on the progress made since 2008 while recognising the need to enhance post-legislative scrutiny further.  

About the author

Tom Caygill is a Senior Lecturer in Politics at Nottingham Trent University

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What are the implications of having the Foreign Secretary sitting in the House of Lords?

By Andrew Defty

The most surprising aspect of Rishi Sunak’s Cabinet reshuffle has been the appointment of the former Prime Minister, David Cameron, as Foreign Secretary. Cameron is no longer an MP and as it is a convention that government ministers sit in Parliament, he has accepted a seat in the House of Lords in order to enable him to take on the role.

Cameron’s appointment raises a number of interesting questions: about the ministerial career of former Prime Ministers; the appointment of Cabinet ministers from the House of Lords; and the implications of this for parliamentary scrutiny.

The political career of former Prime Ministers

David Cameron’s return to front line politics with a seat in the Cabinet is by no means unique but is relatively unusual. As has been widely reported, the last former Prime Minister to take a Cabinet post after leaving office was Alec Douglas-Hume, Conservative Prime Minister from 1963 to 1964, who served as Foreign Secretary under Edward Heath, from 1970 to 1974. Interestingly, Douglas-Hume had previously served as Foreign Secretary while sitting in the House of Lords before becoming Prime Minister. He gave up his seat in the Lords in 1963 in order to become Prime Minister, and for his second term as Foreign Secretary he sat in the House of Commons as the MP for Perth and Kinross.

Other former Prime Ministers who have taken on Cabinet roles after leaving office include Arthur Balfour, Prime Minister from 1902 to 1905, who went on to serve as Foreign Secretary, from 1916 to 1919 in the wartime administration of Lloyd George. Ramsay MacDonald and Neville Chamberlain were both given the opportunity to remain in the Cabinet after stepping down as Prime Minister, with the largely honorary role of Lord President of the Council. Although in Chamberlain’s case this was for only a short period until his death in October 1940.

In recent years, however, there has been a tendency for Prime Ministers to leave parliament completely shortly after leaving office. John Major, Tony Blair, Gordon Brown and most recently Boris Johnson all announced they were leaving the House of Commons shortly after the end of their premiership. Cameron’s appointment to the House of Lords is also relatively unusual. Although it had until recently been customary for former Prime Ministers to accept a seat in the House of Lords, Margaret Thatcher was the last former Prime Minister to do so. Of the seven former Prime Ministers currently alive, Cameron will be the only one sitting in the House of Lords, although two, Theresa May and Liz Truss, continue to sit in the House of Commons.

Why has David Cameron been given a seat in the House of Lords?

In order to enable David Cameron to be appointed to the Cabinet, Rishi Sunak has given him a seat in the House of Lords. Although there is no legal requirement for government ministers to sit in Parliament, it is a very strongly held convention. This is based on the principle that ministers must be directly accountable to Parliament and only members may answer questions on the floor of the House of Commons or the House of Lords.

It has been argued that the convention that ministers must be sitting members of Parliament limits the pool of individuals the Prime Minister can draw upon when making ministerial appointments. In a number of other states, ministers can be appointed from outside the legislature which arguably allows for a wider range of talented individuals to be drawn into the government. In the UK, a Prime Minister who wishes to make a ministerial appointment from outside Parliament does have the option of making someone a member of the House of Lords in order to make them available for ministerial office.

This practice is not particularly unusual. Gordon Brown made a number of direct ministerial appointments to the House of Lords including the former MP, Peter Mandelson, who left the Commons in 2004 but was elevated to the Lords in 2008 in order to become Secretary of State for Business, and Andrew Adonis who was appointed to the Lords in order to become a minister in the Department for Education and Skills. David Cameron himself appointed several business leaders to the House of Lords in order to give them ministerial roles, including Stephen Green, the former group chairman of HSBC and Ian Livingston, the former chief executive of BT. More recently, in 2021 the UK’s former chief negotiator for exiting the European Union, David Frost, was made a peer by Boris Johnson, and appointed as Minister of State in the Cabinet Office with responsibility for Brexit.

An alternative approach could have been to find a safe seat for David Cameron which would have allowed him to return to Parliament as a member of the House of Commons.  This would, however, be dependent on a safe seat being made available, possibly by an MP who was already planning to stand down at the next election. This may also have been a decidedly risky strategy given that the government has recently lost several by-elections in supposedly safe seats. In 1964, Patrick Gordon Walker was appointed as Foreign Secretary by Harold Wilson despite having lost his seat in the 1964 general election. He subsequently resigned after losing a by-election in a supposedly safe Labour seat. Moreover, while Cameron may be happy to take on the role of Foreign Secretary, he may not have been prepared to return to the day-to-day grind of fighting an election and being a constituency MP.

While it is not particularly unusual for governments to make appointments to the House of Lords in order to allow individuals to become ministers, it is relatively rare for members of the House of Lords to hold such senior ministerial office. There are usually somewhere between twenty and thirty ministers in the House of Lords, compared to around eighty in the House of Commons. Governments need to appoint ministers in the Lords to enable someone to speak in the upper House on behalf of each government department, but ministers in the Lords tend to hold more junior ministerial positions, as Ministers of State or Parliamentary Under-Secretaries. In recent years, the only member of the upper House who has routinely sat in the Cabinet is the Leader of the House of Lords.

This was not always the case. Up until the end of the nineteenth century it was common practice for Cabinet ministers, including the Prime Minister to sit in the Lords. The last Prime Minister to sit in the Lords was Lord Salisbury who left office in 1902, although the practice of appointing Foreign Secretaries from the upper House continued well into the twentieth century. Lord Curzon was Conservative Foreign Secretary from 1919 to 1924 and was widely expected to succeed Andrew Bonar Law as Prime Minister in 1923. He lost out to Stanley Baldwin in part because it was felt the Prime Minister should sit in the Commons. Lord Halifax was Foreign Secretary at the outbreak of the Second World War and, as noted above, the Earl of Home, was Foreign Secretary before renouncing his title, perhaps mindful of Curzon’s difficulties, to become Prime Minister in 1963. The last Foreign Secretary to be appointed from the House of Lords was Lord Carrington, who held the post from Thatcher’s election in 1979 until his resignation following the Argentine invasion of the Falkland Islands in 1982.

What are the implications of the Foreign Secretary sitting in the House of Lords?

Lord Carrington’s experience is perhaps revealing of the difficulties Lord Cameron could face. With Carrington unable to answer questions in the House of Commons, answering Foreign Office questions in the Commons was delegated to two junior ministers. In most circumstances this worked admirably well, but when the Falklands crisis erupted, MPs in the House of Commons did not conceal their anger at their inability to question the Foreign Secretary directly. In addition to being accountable to Parliament for their department, senior ministers play an important role in defending the government and the Prime Minister. Lord Carrington’s inability to provide the kind of support the PM needed in the House of Commons contributed to his decision to resign. Lord Cameron may be a useful and experienced ally to the Prime Minister in public and in the media but there is little he can do if things get sticky in the House of Commons.

Cameron’s appointment also means that there is real concern about the impact on parliamentary scrutiny of having the Foreign Secretary sitting in the Lords. The Foreign Secretary will not be available to answer departmental questions in the Commons, which come around about once a month. Nor will he be available to answer urgent questions, which are much more common now than they were when Lord Carrington was Foreign Secretary. In particular, if there is a major international incident which threatens international security or UK interests, the government’s response in the House of Commons will be provided by a more junior minister, who quite possibly does not attend Cabinet. Alternately if the situation is particularly grave, the Prime Minister may find himself delegating for the Foreign Secretary in the House of Commons. Which may appease the Commons but won’t make life easier for the Prime Minister.

The Speaker of the House of Commons was quick to make a statement about the need to ensure that parliamentary scrutiny of foreign policy is not undermined by Lord Cameron’s appointment:

[G]iven the gravity of the current international situation, it is especially important that this House is able to scrutinise the work of the Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office effectively. I have therefore commissioned advice from the Clerks about possible options for enhancing scrutiny of the work of the Foreign Secretary when that post is filled by a Member of the other House. I also look forward to hearing the Government’s proposals on how the Foreign Secretary will be properly accountable to this House.

On the other hand, the Foreign Secretary will not avoid parliamentary scrutiny altogether. The House of Lords is likely to institute its own mechanism to provide regular questions to the Foreign Secretary. Moreover, there is considerable expertise in foreign affairs in the Lords, including several former permanent secretaries from the Foreign Office. As a new peer, Cameron will also be unfamiliar with the practices of the second chamber and will quickly realise that he cannot rely on the same level of support in the chamber as he once enjoyed in the more partisan House of Commons.

The Foreign Secretary will also not entirely avoid scrutiny by MPs. Although he can’t appear to answer questions in the chamber of the House of Commons, members of the House of Lords can appear before House of Commons select committees. He is likely to be much in demand from the House of Commons select committee on foreign affairs, as well as a number of joint committees which comprise members from both Houses, most notably the joint committees on human rights and national security and the Intelligence and Security Committee.

As a former Prime Minister, David Cameron is an experienced parliamentarian, but his ministerial experience is confined to that of being Prime Minister. He may find the role of Foreign Secretary and the demands of adapting to scrutiny in the House of Lords particularly demanding. It is also possible that the absence of a Foreign Secretary in the House of Commons may place increased demands on the government and even the Prime Minister himself. Both will be hoping that the benefits outweigh the undoubted challenges ahead.

About the author

Andrew Defty is Associate Professor of Politics at the University of Lincoln and member of the Lincoln Parliamentary Research Centre (ParliLinc).

This piece was first posted on Andrew Defty’s Who Runs Britain? blog.

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Why Parliaments? Part 3

The future of parliaments as watchdogs

By John Keane

This is the third part of a keynote address, delivered in the presence of King Felipe VI, at the conference to commemorate the International Day of Parliamentarism hosted by the Inter Pares: EU Global Project to Strengthen the Capacity of Parliaments (Cortes Generales, León, Spain, June 30, 2023).

The first part of the keynote on the invention of the cortes model can be read here and the second part discussing past and current threats to parliaments here.

European Parliament building in Strasbourg (European Parliament).

So what of the future of parliaments? Do they have a future? When thinking about these various decadent trends, it’s tempting to conclude that the post-1945 renaissance of parliaments is coming to an end. We may even think that we’re already entering the age of phantom parliaments in which legislatures in more than a few countries are simultaneously real and not real, form without much content. In these make-believe spaces, elected representatives claim to serve the people, even though they are of limited or no significance to the people in whose name they pass laws.

A shift to phantom parliaments and executive rule may be welcomed in some quarters, but before the cava is poured, let’s consider the countertrends, and the reasons why, in these years of the 21st century, the cortesmodel of government remains indispensable.

In politics, nothing is set in stone. To speak in quantum terms, contemporary parliaments are in a state of superposition. Just as the fate of Schrödinger’s cat in a box was undecidable, so are parliaments today suspended unpredictably between alternative outcomes. Fightbacks are possible. They are necessary. Remarkably, renewals are happening at multiple points on our planet.

Consider Denmark’s Folketinget: in meetings called consultations (samråd), its powerful European Affairs Committee regularly grills ministers in real-time during sessions of the Council of the European Union in Brussels and Luxembourg. The National Assembly of the Republic of Korea has signed off on the world’s first comprehensive laws against verbal abuse and bullying (‘gapjil’) by family-run conglomerates and other powerful organisations. Romania’s parliament is now digitally fed citizens’ suggestions and complaints with the help of ION, a smart robot, say the wags, designed to improve the ‘intelligence’ of politicians. Proposals are afoot in the German Bundestag to receive non-binding reports from lottery-selected citizens’ assemblies.

Parliaments are also heavily preoccupied with time past and time future. The Welsh legislature regularly consults with the world’s first Future Generations Commissioner. With eyes on the unmade future, the European Parliament has drafted the world’s first AI Act. New Zealand’s (Aotearoa’s) parliament has granted ecosystems ‘the rights, powers, duties and liabilities of a legal person’. The cross-border Nordic network of Sámi parliaments, the Sámediggi is a case of interparliamentary cooperation, featuring consultative bodies whose brief is to promote and preserve indigenous self-determination.

Norway’s Sámi Parliament, the representative body for people of Sámi heritage, opened in October 1989 (Sámediggi).
Watchdog parliaments

How are we to make good sense of this new wave of experiments? My suggestion is to see them as points on a larger canvas, single performances in a grand carnival of parliamentary efforts to rejuvenate the cortes spirit.

Shadows are certainly falling on too many of the world’s parliaments. But these innovations are the first signs of a dawn of renewal. They breathe new life into old institutions originally designed to make binding agreements by lawmakers acting on behalf of different social interests, in the name of the commonweal. More obviously, these parliamentary experiments are today doing what parliaments did for over eight centuries: representing the claims and interests of the represented – and they remind us that parliamentary representation is, by definition, tricky business.

Populists and demagogues be warned: representation isn’t a simple, face-to-face contract between a representative and an imaginary People or Nation. Representation isn’t mimesis. It has a vicarious, fiduciary quality, and this means that when voters choose a representative, representation is as much an ending as it is a beginning. Representation is an open-ended process contingent upon the assent, disappointment and displeasure of the represented. When representatives underperform, or fail on too many fronts, they are sent to hell in a handbasket.

These principles of representation, traceable to the León cortes convened by Alfonso IX, are most definitely alive and kicking in the new parliamentary experiments. That’s why textbooks still tell us that the prime task of parliaments is to represent the interests of citizens by means of free and fair elections. But there’s an error within the textbooks: if we look more closely at what today’s smart, activist parliaments are actually doing, we see a departure of great historical significance ignored by the textbooks.

Parliaments aren’t just chambers or ‘little rooms’ where elected politicians represent their constituents. In our age of monitory democracy, legislatures are becoming watchdog parliaments. In the name of the common good, they blow whistles, sound alarms, warn of wicked problems and pass laws to push back or ban arbitrary exercises of power.

The contrast with parliaments of yesteryear couldn’t be clearer. The first-ever cortes was born of military conquest. Parliaments of the more recent past were too often the castles of the aristocracy, bourgeois mansions, parlours of male privilege, and engines of empire. By contrast, today’s watchdog parliaments, when they work well, stand against conquest in all its various forms. Especially when generously resourced, watchdog parliaments specialise in the public scrutiny and restraint of predatory power. They stand against foolish governments that abuse their power.

Watchdog parliaments snap the chains of majority rule, the blind worship of numbers, by granting voices and rights to minorities excluded from high politics. These parliaments alter our shared sense of time. They extend the franchise to endangered species, wronged ancestors and future generations. In opposition, say, to predatory corporations, greedy banks and rogue mining companies, watchdog parliaments protect and promote the rules of the democratic game. Not to be underestimated is the way they strive to tackle long-term problems, currently sidelined by the short-term mentality of election cycles.

Watchdog parliaments are more than the guardians of electoral integrity. As champions of the public monitoring of power, they target complex, difficult, wicked problems. Their job is to find just solutions for matters such as artificial intelligence, tax havens, polluted environments, pestilences, the plight of stateless peoples, the unregulated arms trade and unending wars of attrition.

When performing these functions, paradoxically, watchdog parliaments push beyond the ‘parliamentary road’ and the fetish of periodic elections. They help redefine democracy and give it teeth. Electoral democracy becomes monitory democracy. Democracy comes to mean nothing less than free and fair elections, but also something much more: citizens’ freedom from predatory power in all its ugly forms, including our reckless relationship with the Earth on which we dwell.

True, the new watchdog parliaments are fragile. They function without much intellectual support. No grand political theories of the order of François Guizot’s lectures on the origins of representative government in the early 1820s, or John Stuart Mill’s Considerations on Representative Government (1861) have come to their defence. They lack guidebooks and operating manuals. This is to say that watchdog parliaments enjoy no scholarly fanfare and no historical guarantees of success. Except to future historians, their chances of survival are unknown.

The only thing that’s certain is that the spirit of these watchdog parliaments – the spirit of young King Alfonso IX – is the grit we humans are going to need as we struggle to deal wisely, equitably, democratically with the rich opportunities and cascading dangers of our troubled century.

About the author

John Keane is Professor of Politics at the University of Sydney and Professorial Fellow at the WZB (Berlin). His latest book is The Shortest History of Democracy (2022), which has already been published in more than 12 languages.

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Parliamentary scrutiny: what is it, and why does it matter?

Parliamentary scrutiny is at the heart of UK politics. In this post, Meg Russell and Lisa James examine the four key methods of parliamentary scrutiny, and offer proposals on how to strengthen it, calling for better behaviour by government and strong engagement from backbenchers.

Background

Parliament lies at the heart of UK politics. The legislature is a core institution in any democracy, but is particularly important in the UK, due to our tradition of ‘parliamentary sovereignty’. The government is dependent on the confidence of the House of Commons, which can potentially remove it from office. Parliamentary consent is required for primary legislation, and parliament is a particularly central and important body in holding ministers to account day-to-day.

This makes scrutiny – the detailed examination of policy proposals, actions and plans – one of the essential roles of parliament. Other functions include representation, and serving as a space for national debate – which in turn feed into parliament’s scrutiny function.

This briefing summarises why parliamentary scrutiny matters, what different kinds of parliamentary scrutiny exist at Westminster, some recent concerns about the decline of scrutiny, and ways in which it can be protected and strengthened.

Why does parliamentary scrutiny matter?

The government is responsible for much day-to-day decision-making, in terms of national policy formulation and implementation. But the government itself is not directly elected, and depends for its survival on the continued confidence of the House of Commons. This makes parliament one of the central checks and balances in the constitution – arguably the most central one of all. To provide government accountability, one of the core functions of parliament is scrutiny.

Parliament is a very public arena, with debates televised and transcribed on the public record. Hence parliamentary scrutiny means that ministers must justify their policies in front of an audience, which provides transparency and accountability, and helps to ensure that policies are seen as legitimate.

Crucially, parliament contains many and varied political voices. MPs are elected from diverse constituencies all over the UK, and represent different political parties. The House of Lords includes members from a wide range of backgrounds, many of whom are independent of political party, and some of whom are respected experts in their field. Parliamentary debates, and other mechanisms such as committee calls for evidence, also enable specialist groups and individual citizens to hear about policy and feed in their expertise, evidence and concerns. All of this ensures that different perspectives are heard in parliament when considering government policy.

The mere existence of parliamentary scrutiny, given its public nature and diverse contributors, can have an important effect. Even where nothing visibly changes as a result (e.g. if a government bill remains unamended) studies show that ‘anticipated reactions’ are important. Policy is more carefully thought through because ministers and officials know that it will be scrutinised by parliament. Hence scrutiny improves the quality of decision-making; and if it is lacking, policy may be poorer as a result.

What are the key forms of parliamentary scrutiny?

Scrutiny takes place both in the Commons and in the Lords, and both on the floor of the chamber and in various kinds of committees. At Westminster, even processes not focused directly on government policy require a ministerial response. Scrutiny and accountability thereby come through numerous mechanisms. These same forums also to some extent subject opposition parties to scrutiny, in the sense that they too must set out their own views on the public record.

The key forms and venues for scrutiny are set out below. In a number of these areas there have been recent concerns expressed about weakness or decline in scrutiny, which deserve attention.

1. Scrutiny of legislation

Most obviously, parliament conducts scrutiny of government legislation, and also of private members’ bills, with slightly different mechanisms operating in the Commons and the Lords.

Despite occasional backbench rebellions resulting in visible government climbdowns, scrutiny in the Commons is often seen as weak. But this can be overstated, given that ministers think carefully about the acceptability of bills to MPs before they are introduced. Changes in the Lords also often respond to concerns raised (including behind the scenes) in the Commons.

Nonetheless, adequate bill scrutiny depends on government cooperation. Ministers must ensure that bills are in good shape before introduction, and (given government’s extensive control of the Commons agenda) allow sufficient time for debate. They also need to be willing to listen and respond to reasonable points made by parliamentarians. There have been recent concerns about bills being rushed, and about late government amendments.

There are various known weaknesses in the legislative scrutiny process. Commons public bill committees are temporary and nonspecialist, unlike in many other legislatures, and the process of evidence-taking could be improved. Meanwhile, there is no formal evidence-taking stage for bills introduced in the Lords, or that have their committee stage in the Commons on the floor. This limits opportunities for expert input.

Perhaps the biggest concern in recent years has been about the growing use of delegated (or ‘secondary’) legislation, and increasing powers delegated to ministers in bills. This legislation receives very limited parliamentary scrutiny, raising clear accountability gaps if it implements major policy. Particular controversies emerged in this area during the Covid-19 pandemic, but overuse of delegated legislation has long been criticised, including by parliamentary committees, and expert groups such as the Hansard Society.

2. Parliamentary questions and government statements

Written and oral questions in both chambers put ministers on the spot about policy. Aside from scheduled questions, more ad hoc urgent questions allow sustained questioning on a topic, and their use has grown in recent years. Voluntary government statements take a similar form – and when not offered on key topics may trigger an urgent question.

Prime Minister’s Questions (PMQs) are the highest profile forum and have long been subject to criticism for their ‘bearpit’ and adversarial nature. They attract attention, but are unrepresentative of most forms of questioning, which can be more constructive but are lower profile. There are regular calls to reform PMQs but even they may have important ‘anticipated reactions’ functions.

The Cabinet Manual states that ‘the most important announcements of government policy should, in the first instance, be made to Parliament’, but there have been many recent complaints about ministers flouting this rule. This again occurred particularly frequently during the pandemic, but has continued – often to the displeasure of the Commons Speaker. Making major announcements outside parliament denies the opportunity for the kind of sustained questioning and democratic accountability that occurs when making announcements to MPs. Follow-up statements or urgent questions sometimes follow, but may be lower profile.

3. Opposition, backbench and adjournment debates

Parliament holds various kinds of debates in non-government time, including Commons backbench business debates, opposition day debates and adjournment debates. Irrespective of the topic, ministers must always appear and explain the government’s position, creating additional accountability. Often such debates are directly focused on government policy, and/or on topics that ministers would prefer to avoid.

Backbench business debates and opposition day debates may result in a vote on a substantive motion. In recent years there have been criticisms of the government’s relatively new practice of instructing MPs to abstain on opposition motions. Although decisions in these votes are not enforceable, the House of Commons Public Administration and Constitutional Affairs Committee, has suggested that this shows a ‘lack of respect for the House’.

These two forms of debate are guaranteed a minimum number of days per session in standing orders. But recent years have seen a number of long sessions (2010–12, 2017–19, 2019–21), which gives excessive control to the government over their scheduling.

4. Select committees

The select committees are seen as jewels in Westminster’s crown. They are unusual in international terms for conducting extensive and careful non-legislative scrutiny, for their nonpartisan ethos, and for generally producing unanimous reports. Committees in the Commons mostly shadow government departments, while those in the Lords are more crosscutting.

Committees gather expert and other evidence (including some recently using citizens’ assemblies to elicit considered public views). Ministers are often called to give evidence to the committees, as well as the government being required to respond to their reports. There have been occasional concerns about ministers cancelling committee appearances, but this is the exception.

Research shows that, while the select committees have little ‘hard power’ to force changes, they can be influential through putting topics onto the political agenda, feeding valuable evidence into wider debates, and having an ‘anticipated reactions’ effect – through forcing ministers to consider policy carefully, because they know they may have to publicly explain it to committees later.

In the Commons, select committee structures are routinely changed when government departments are reorganised. This can cause concerns – for example most recently when the abolition of the International Trade Committee left little opportunity for scrutiny by MPs of important international agreements (though such scrutiny remains in the Lords).

How can parliamentary scrutiny be strengthened?

There have been some welcome changes to mechanisms for parliamentary scrutiny in relatively recent years, such as the election of House of Commons select committee members and chairs (since 2010), and introduction of evidence-taking by Commons public bill committees (in 2006).

But this briefing has mentioned various weaknesses in parliamentary scrutiny processes, including recent concerns about decline – for example through primary legislation being rushed or subject to late government amendments, and an overreliance on delegated legislation. Recent polling shows that the public wants new laws to be subject to full parliamentary scrutiny. Improved government behaviour could make a good deal of difference in this area, but the Hansard Society has also proposed procedural changes.

Proposals exist for strengthening Commons public bill committees – e.g. by injecting greater permanence and specialism – and for publishing more government bills in draft. The Commons Procedure Committee has proposed improvements to the private members’ bill process.

Government control of the House of Commons agenda creates weaknesses, including over the timetabling of bills, ministers’ ability to withhold backbench and opposition days, and parliament’s inability to recall itself from recess. The Constitution Unit has proposed changes in this area.

Fundamentally, improved scrutiny depends on better behaviour by government, but also on strong engagement by backbenchers and other non-government parliamentarians. Even seemingly ‘toothless’ scrutiny mechanisms can have important effects, by subjecting government policy to public exposure and debate. Both government and non-government parliamentarians therefore have important responsibilities to maintain the system of parliamentary scrutiny – in order to uphold good quality government decision-making, and the legitimacy of politics in the eyes of the public.

This blog is part of the UCL Constitution Unit’s briefing series designed to inform policy-makers and the public about key constitutional issues and democratic debates. Our briefings draw on international evidence and examine both long-term trends and current developments in the UK. This is part of our project on constitutional principles and the health of democracy.

It was originally published on the Constitution Unit’s blog and is re-published here with thanks.

About the authors

Meg Russell FBA is Professor of British and Comparative Politics at UCL and Director of the Constitution Unit.

Lisa James is a Research Fellow at the Constitution Unit.

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Together and Apart: Innovations in Prime Ministerial questioning the Canadian House of Commons

Historically, the questioning model of Question Period in the Canadian House of Commons was collective: the Prime Minister was questioned together with ministers. Question Period takes place every sitting day, and by convention the Prime Minister is expected to attend. In this collective questioning model, MPs addressed questions to the Prime Minister or to ministers. Conventionally, the Prime Minister received questions at the start of Question Period, usually from the Leader of the Opposition and from other opposition party leaders. The remaining questions went to ministers.

During the 2015 federal election, the Liberal Party promised to introduce a Prime Minister’s Question Period in order to make the Prime Minister more accountable. Following a long tradition of collective questioning, in April 2017, halfway through the 42ndparliament, the Liberal government introduced a questioning slot for the Prime Minister. Similar to the procedure for PMQs in the UK, the Canadian Prime Minister would be questioned on their own once a week on Wednesday. 

What can we learn about prime ministerial questioning from this reform?

Given its introduction halfway through a parliament, this reform offers a unique methodological opportunity to study whether, and in what ways questioning the Prime Minister is different in collective procedures compared to individualised procedures. 

Previous studies have explored this question through cross-case comparisons: for example, by comparing how prime ministers are questioned in legislatures that use individualised procedures (UK) versus similar legislatures that use collective procedures (Canada and Australia). A within-case comparison before and after a reform in the same legislature may offer insights into whether questioning the Prime Minister alone is conducive to more or better accountability.

Previous work has also shown that a key variable is whether or not the procedure allows spontaneous questioning (i.e. topics are not known in advance), or whether questions are submitted in advance. For example, in Ireland, questions for Oral Questions to the Taoiseach are submitted in writing in advance, whilst in the UK questions are asked spontaneously on the day at PMQs. The Irish procedure displays far higher levels of questions targeted at the Prime Minister’s responsibilities compared to the UK’s PMQs, where questions to the Prime Minister span a wide range of topics; the Prime Minister is seen as responsible for everything. Given that the Canadian Question Period also involves spontaneous questioning, we would expect that moving to an individualised procedure would lead to a similar pattern: a wide range of questions addressed to the Prime Minister.

Importantly, Question Period is to a large extent party controlled. For every Question Period, political parties hand over a list of questioners to the Speaker, who uses the list as a guide in calling MPs to ask questions. This means that access to questioning is largely determined by internal party strategy.

Research design

This paper asks an exploratory research question: How are prime ministers questioned in collective and individualised procedures? Did the introduction of an individualised procedure in the Canadian House of Commons lead to the Prime Minister being more accountable, as the Liberals intended?

Leveraging the introduction of the reform halfway through the 42nd Parliament, I use a before-and-after evaluation design. The first stage of this study involves a quantitative analysis of questions addressed to the Prime Minister in collective sessions before the reform, and in individualised sessions after the reform. I randomly sampled 30 questioning sessions: 15 on each side of the reform. Questions were coded on several variables based on validated coding protocols and analysed in R. The topic of each question and the political party of each questioner were sourced from the labels given in Hansard. I coded whether the topic falls within the Prime Minister’s direct remit, as that remit is understood within the Canadian political system, whether it is shared with a minister, or whether the topic is in the competence of a minister. I also coded whether the question included a conflictual remark. 

This first stage aims to explore patterns in questions to the Prime Minister before and after the reform. The next stage of the project will involve interviews with Canadian MPs active during the 42nd parliament, to gain a deeper understanding of their experience of Question Period and of the reform. This paper presents preliminary results from the first stage.

Results

  1. Widening access to questioning

The move to an individualised procedure increased access to questioning: MPs from a wider range of roles and political parties are able to ask the Prime Minister a question (Figures 1 and 2). Although the pre-reform collective procedure meant that the Prime Minister appeared in parliament more often during the week, he was only asked around eight questions at the start of each Question Period session. This means he was always questioned by the Leader of the Opposition, the leader of the second opposition party, and other frontbench actors who conventionally ask questions at the start of Question Period. More junior frontbenchers and backbenchers did not get to question the head of government. The individualised procedure, by contrast, dedicates a full session to the Prime Minister, with questioners including a wider range of frontbench roles, and backbenchers also getting a chance to question the Prime Minister.

Figure 1. Number of questions by party
Figure 2. Number of questions by type of actor

2. Less focus on matters within the Prime Minister’s remit.

As Figure 3 shows, the introduction of an individualised slot for the Prime Minister did not result in more questions targeted at Prime Ministerial responsibilities. In the collective procedure around 70% of questions were targeted at topics that were either the Prime Minister’s own remit, or topics that the Prime Minister shares with a minister. After the introduction of an individualised slot, more than half of questions were on topics not within the Prime Minister’s remit. Within the sample included in this study, the range of topics in questions to the Prime Minister increased from 29 during the pre-reform procedure to 59 topics over the course of the individualised sessions included.

Figure 3. Questions within the Prime Minister’s remit

Previous studies have shown that the UK’s PMQs, the most well-known opportunity for individualised prime ministerial questioning, displays a wide range of topics in questions; the Prime Minister is held to account for everything. A similar pattern appears in Canada after the introduction of a weekly individualised procedure: when the Prime Minister appears on their own, the range of topics of questions broadens. Far from offering an opportunity for more targeted questioning, a weekly individualised slot results in more questions addressed to the Prime Minister on a wider range of issues.

An individualised plenary questioning procedure creates an opportunity for regular dialogue with the Prime Minister, and a focus point during the parliamentary week, but not an opportunity for holding the Prime Minister to account in a targeted way. This finding has important procedural implications for designing questioning mechanisms. 

3. No difference in how adversarial questions are

The change from a collective to an individualised procedure did not generate different patterns in terms of conflictual questions (defined as questions containing at least one conflictual remark). In fact, although in both types of procedure over 75% of questions include a conflictual remark, the proportion of conflictual questions decreases slightly in the individualised procedure (Figure 4). However, as Figure 2 shows, a wider range of actors get to criticise the Prime Minister in the individualised procedure. Whilst the collective procedure primarily involved a duel between the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition, in the individualised procedure a wider range of frontbench and backbench actors intervene to ask critical questions. The high levels of conflict suggest that the Canadian Question Period is inherently an adversarial procedure, at least when it comes to questions addressed to the Prime Minister, and that changing whether the Prime Minister is questioned alone or alongside the cabinet does not have any visible effect on that.

Figure 4. Conflictual questions

Conclusions: what difference did the reform make?

The move to an individualised procedure led to a new model of Prime Ministerial questioning and accountability in the Canadian House of Commons.

Firstly, the reform widened access to questioning the Prime Minister: MPs from more political parties and from a wider range of parliamentary roles (including backbenchers) can now question the Prime Minister. However, Question Period remains very party controlled, and access to questioning is not open on the floor of the House. The Question Period strategy and who gets to be added to the list of questioners are determined internally by parties.

The reform also made the Canadian Question Period more similar to PMQs: the Prime Minister is tested on many aspects across government policy. But evidence from other legislatures suggests that this is not always the case for all individualised questioning procedures. For example, comparative evidence from Ireland and the UK showed that open individualised procedures, where the topics of questions are not known in advance, are more conducive to a wide range of topics in questions. If questions are submitted in writing before the session, they tend to be on topics that are within the Prime Minister’s remit. It is hence the combination of the open, spontaneous nature of Question Period, and its new individualised version, that makes it more similar to PMQs.

Finally, the reform did not affect how conflictual questions to the Prime Minister are, suggesting that the underlying culture of Question Period is adversarial, and the individualised/collective character does not affect levels of adversarialism in questions. 

Dr Ruxandra Serban is an LSE Fellow in Qualitative Methodology at the London School of Economics and Political Science.

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There’s a time and place for prorogation — and this is it

As I sit and watch the turmoil at Westminster on the morning (afternoon in London) that Liz Truss announced her resignation; the morning that the 1922 Committee of Conservative backbenchers scramble to find a leader in a week’s time; a seemingly firm date of October 31 for a budget statement from a recently appointed Chancellor of the Exchequer; and cries for an election, there seems to be no way forward that does not continue the chaos.  But there just may be a way to calm the waters somewhat.  A proper and timely use of prorogation.

Prorogation, where one session of Parliament ends and a new session is prepared for, has received much negative press and commentary in the last few years, in the UK and in Canada.   It has been seen as a way for a Prime Minister and a government to avoid facing Parliament when there was an imminent need for a decision of Parliament.   But there are times when prorogation is appropriate.  In most cases it is used when a parliamentary session has effectively exhausted the government’s agenda and there is a belief that the government needs to set out the next stages of its “new” agenda for the following session.  In some countries this is effectively set as an annual or biannual process, in others it is discretionary.  In either case, there is also room for the Prime Minister to ask for the King to prorogue Parliament as a necessary re-set button, either when a new King’s Speech is required to address an emergency, or to set out a new way forward for the government in light of changed circumstances.  Sometimes, such pauses are just necessary to stop, rethink, plan and explain a way forward.  The present circumstances would, I suggest, be such a cas, although some consideration would have to be given to ensuring that legislation that meets the revised agenda, or to meet urgent needs is carried forward in the next session.   

The way forward would be for the Conservative party to choose a leader, have the King appoint them as Prime Minster, then have that person request that Parliament be prorogued for a couple of weeks to allow them to put a cabinet together, prepare an agenda, and then to have that agenda presented to Parliament through a King’s Speech. There would then follow debate and a vote of the House of Commons in support of the Speech or else defeat and an election.  This process would allow the new Prime Minister to gather their thoughts, form a cabinet with appropriate deliberation, and present a coherent plan to Parliament to be aired and discussed before specific actions are taken.  It would also result in the constitutional legitimacy that the House of Commons can provide by voting on the King’s Speech.  

No doubt there will be those who will argue that this is merely a political tactic and an attempt to govern without facing Parliament. Or else they will claim it is a way to avoid addressing the urgent needs of the country in difficult economic and international times.  Surely, a short pause for a new Prime Minister and their cabinet to work their way through the issues, consult with the cabinet, the caucus, the public service, experts and concerned parties, is better than trying to address the issues piecemeal and in short soundbites amid the clamouring from all directions.

For those who argue that there has been a promise to deliver a much need economic update or mini-budget on or before October 31, otherwise the country and the economy will lose the confidence of the international community and the public, one need only look at the rushed and ill considered economic policies made by Liz Truss without fully thinking them through.  By setting a timeline that would result in a Prime Minister being chosen by next Friday and expecting such a major economic statement the following Monday, the scene is set for history to repeat itself.  While the country and the economic world need an indication of how the UK proposes to address the serious issues of inflation, income security and energy sustainability, the new Prime Minister and Chancellor will undoubtedly be granted the time necessary to put together a considered and responsive budget.  It is also more likely that the public and international markets will accept and understand the position of the budget if it is set within the context of an overall government agenda laid out in a King’s Speech.  Calm and measured is often what is needed, not bold and reckless – just to meet an artificial deadline set by predecessors.

There are, and will continue to be, those who argue that an election is needed and that whoever is chosen as Prime Minister will lack any mandate to govern.  While it may be true that the Prime Minister and their government will not have faced the electorate as such, the Westminster system of government is not one that works in such a straight line.  The question of legitimacy and capacity to govern is one that is based on parliamentary support and confidence, with the public having the ability to judge what has occurred in the previous Parliament, as much as looking forward to the next.  The Prime Minister and cabinet emerge from the various members of the House of Commons.  It is the Commons, as a collection of elected representatives, that determines who is best able to govern.  The Commons, by its votes on major proposals and legislation demonstrates confidence in the government and continually tests the government as it delivers on its proposed agenda and faces events that arise during the life of the Parliament. Although the most visible test of confidence comes in the form of a straight-up motion of non-confidence, votes on major government initiatives can also demonstrate confidence.  The Commons is given the opportunity to discuss the proposed agenda through votes on, among other matters, the King’s Speech and budgetary matters   It is the Commons, as representatives, not the public, that decides these issues during the life of a Parliament.  We elect Parliaments (members of the House of Commons) not governments.  

Immediately following an election, we look to the make-up of Parliament to determine who is likely to be called on as Prime Minister to form a government.  It may be the existing Prime Minister, who had the confidence of the previous House of Commons, or it may be a new Prime Minister.  If a new Prime Minister, they may be given a slightly longer period of time to form a government and prepare a King’s Speech to open the new Parliament.  It is in that Parliament that the new Prime Minister is tested and secures the legitimacy to govern.   It is at this time, and through this mechanism, that the new Prime Minister sets out their agenda and seeks support of the government’s mandate.  Although a bit more traumatic, and possibly chaotic, sometimes it is necessary to choose a new Prime Minister during the course of a sitting Parliament.  In such circumstances, it is arguably only right that they have the same opportunity as a Prime Minister appointed following an election to choose their cabinet from members of the House of Commons, set their own course of action in the circumstances, and to present them to and have them tested in Parliament, in the same manner.

For comparison, when dissolution occurs, Parliament ends for the length of the election and the time to put a government together and prepare a King’s Speech and for the Prime Minister to meet Parliament.  This can take longer when there is a change of Prime Minister and there is a question of who should be called on to take on that role.  There is no parliamentary business, budget or focussed parliamentary debate during this time.   Although Parliament ceases to exist during this time, the previous Prime Minister and government continue to govern, albeit in a reduced capacity.   In the present circumstances, if the Prime Minister has resigned, another person would still need to be called on to be Prime Minister, thus leading to a different type of constitutional “crisis”.   It is also noted that a dissolution is considerably longer than a prorogation, which suspends Parliament for a shorter, defined period, and allows Parliament to be recalled to consider a new Agenda, or at least to address enough of the issues required to provide the degree of stability that might be required to cover the dissolution and election period.  

Elections are not the only safety valve in a Westminster democracy.  Prorogation as a reset can provide a similar respite when necessary.  

Many events occur during the life of a Parliament which the public looks to the Parliament and the government to resolve.  Economic challenges, wars, international crises, natural disasters and political change.  Over the course of five years, the economic, international and political landscapes change.  Political fortunes, membership and leadership of the various parties and caucus also change.   When such changes occur the Parliament that was elected is required to change with them.   In some such cases, the government through the testing of Parliament requires a reset.   In the present circumstances, a new Prime Minister taking a short pause, preparing an agenda and seeking a new mandate through the elected House of Commons, could provide the stability, even if temporary, that the UK needs. Whether Parliament supports the new Prime Minister, the government and the direction proposed in the King’s Speech, or whether Parliament believes it is time for the electorate to decide, is a decision for the House of Commons.   Whether they have made the right decision will ultimately be decided by the electorate.

The present situation is like the driver who tries to fix the engine of a moving car while keeping the car on the road at the same time.  It’s just better to pull the car to the side of the road, fix the car, read the map, and then get back on the road.

Steven Chaplin, Adjunct Professor Common Law and Fellow uOttawa Public Law Centre

This blog post was originally published on the UK Constitutional Law Blog. The original post is available here:

S. Chaplin, ‘There’s a Time and Place for Prorogation—and this is it’, U.K. Const. L. Blog (25th October 2022) https://ukconstitutionallaw.org/2022/10/25/steven-chaplin-theres-a-time-and-place-for-prorogation-and-this-is-it/

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What ever happened to impeachment in the United Kingdom? Accountability, history and the decline of parliamentary impeachment

Drawing upon my doctoral research undertaken at King’s College London, this blog post examines why impeachment fell into decline in the United Kingdom. My research considered this decline with reference to key moments of parliamentary and constitutional history, moments where Parliament and the country faced times of crisis. This blog post argues that it is possible to trace the causes for this decline alongside the development of alternative accountability mechanisms. Furthermore, it also argues that there is scope for seeing impeachment not so much as a factional device (which it was at times), but as a major development in permitting the House of Commons to achieve the accountability of key officials within and outside of the executive.

When thinking about impeachment it is safe to assume that most people in this country will not be thinking of the impeachment that originated in the Good Parliament of 1376, where the Commons impeached Lord Latimer on the basis of financial irregularities and his military record, but rather the United States of America.

The previous President of the United States of America Donald Trump was impeached twice, firstly in 2019, and secondly in 2021. Trump was acquitted on both occasions by the Senate.  Prior to Trump, the most recent presidential impeachment was that of President Bill Clinton. President Clinton’s impeachment has been re-explored in popular culture in Impeachment: American Crime Story that has recently aired on the FX network. Impeachment is at the forefront of American popular political culture and countless fictional presidents have resigned to avoid the threat of impeachment (for example House of Cards and Veep), or have been impeached, or in the case of the West Wing censured.

It is not the case in the United Kingdom. As noted above, impeachment originated in England in 1376 during the final years of Edward III’s reign and enabled the Commons to demand that leading officials were held to account for their conduct. The precise nature of the process would not be settled for some time, and impeachment was used in various hybrid forms in the years following 1376. What is clear is that the origins of impeachment are linked to Parliament’s response to times of national crisis, which in 1376 related to England’s military misfortunes during the Hundred Years War, the financial crisis the country faced, and real concerns over how the country was to be governed due to the monarch’s infirmity and the fact this the king’s likely successor would be a child

The last British impeachment concerned Henry Dundas, 1st Viscount Melville, who was accused of the misuse of public funds. Melville was ultimately acquitted by the House of Lords in 1806. Most recently in 2004 there was an attempt to impeach Tony Blair, the then Prime Minister, over the Prime Minister’s conduct in relation to the decision to invade Iraq. This attempt went nowhere, despite a formal motion drafted by experienced MPs and assisted by a legal opinion drafted by Conor Gearty and Rabinder Singh QC of Matrix Chambers.

Why has there not been an impeachment since Melville’s acquittal in 1806? The short answer is that since the 1740s, when Sir Robert Walpole resigned after realizing he longer had the confidence of the House of Commons, impeachment started to be superseded by alternative political accountability mechanisms.

My doctoral research drew heavily on the historical use of impeachment in this country and has considered four case studies that demonstrated how impeachment was used. These case studies were the so-called ‘revival’ of impeachment in the seventeenth century, the use of impeachment during the factional disputes between the Whigs and Tories at the start of the eighteenth century, the impeachment of Warren Hastings in 1787 and the impeachment of Viscount Melville. This blog post will briefly consider the third case study, that of Warren Hastings.

Perhaps the most famous impeachment in British history was that of Warren Hastings, the former governor-general of Bengal. Hastings’ impeachment was the culmination of many years of concern within the metropolis over the conduct of the East India Company’s servants in India and the financial liability of the Company’s control over an increasing amount of territory. Reform of the Company and its governance in India had been attempted by Lord North’s Regulating Act of 1773, there had also been a serious attempt to proceed against a colonial governor, Sir Thomas Rumbold of Madras, and had been both a select and a secret committee into the Company’s conduct. Therefore, it is possible to see Hastings’ impeachment as a product of this perceived crisis over the East India Company and the influence that it (and its often very rich servants) had on the political life of the country.

The call to impeach Hastings was led by Edmund Burke MP and his then political ally, Charles James Fox MP, who were in turn supported by Hastings’ political rival, Sir Philip Francis. The impeachment has been written about by a range of academics and contemporary commentators and was recorded in the popular culture of the late eighteenth century, most notably in the caricatures by James Gillray and James Sayers. In terms of how the impeachment was portrayed by contemporaries, it is interesting to contrast Gillray and Sayer’s treatment of Hastings, as evidenced by Gillray’s caricature, ‘Impeachment ticket. For the trial of W-RR-NH-ST-NGS Esqr’ and Sayers’ caricature ‘For the Trial of Warren Hastings, Seventh Day’.

Having been impeached by the House of Commons in 1787, Hastings was then tried before the House of Lords, with his trial lasting seven years. The prosecution was conducted by the managers, which included Richard Sheridan MP and Edmund Burke MP on behalf of the House of Commons. Hastings was eventually acquitted, but the conclusion of many contemporaries was that the impeachment had not been a success, as the public and politicians had grown tired of the prosecution’s allegations.

It is interesting to consider the question of what if Parliament was today confronted by a modern-day Hastings? The East India Company and Hastings represented a threat to the nation and one that despite legislative reform remained unresolved (see the Regulating Act 1773, Fox’s India Bill in 1783, and Pitt’s India Act of 1784).

If Parliament was faced by a modern-day Warren Hastings, then alternative accountability mechanisms could be used rather than impeachment. There could be an investigation by the relevant select committee, debates in both Houses of Parliament, and the Prime Minister could be persuaded to establish a public inquiry. There could also perhaps, depending on the nature of the allegations, be a prosecution before the ordinary courts.

Taking a step back from the Hastings impeachment, it is important to note that impeachment had originated in the late fourteenth century as a way for the House of Commons to prosecute grievances outside of the ordinary criminal justice system and lead to a trial before the House of Lords. Despite a record of partisanship, arguably never more so than at the start of the eighteenth century, it is possible to see impeachment as a valuable accountability mechanism, in as much as it enabled the House of Commons to hold the executive to account.

So, what about the status of impeachment today? Is it possible that it could still serve a purpose, or is it to be considered as obsolete and confined to the history books?

My doctoral research, which will be published by Routledge as My doctoral research, which will be published by Routledge as Accountability, Impeachment and the Constitution: The Case for a Modernised Process in the United Kingdom (2022), has argued that by drawing upon the development and the operation of impeachment in this country’s history, it offers a way to see impeachment as empowering the House of Commons in the face of a powerful executive.ve.

At a time when there is a concern that there has been a disregard for the accepted constitutional norms (as evidenced by the decision to prorogue Parliament for five weeks and failure to enforce the Ministerial Code) it is argued that a modernised form of impeachment could empower the House of Commons to take on the role as the guardian of the constitution and ultimately proceed against government ministers, who are alleged to have acted in a way as to breach the accepted constitutional norms.

Through a mixture of deterrent, sanction and public scrutiny, it is argued that a modernized and revised form of impeachment would make a valuable contribution to the existing accountability toolkit and buttress the political constitution. To avoid concerns over partisanship, show trials and executive dominance of the House of Commons, it is proposed that impeachment would be modernised. No longer would there be a focus on crimes, instead impeachment would be concerned with breaches of the constitution. The eventual determination of wrongdoing would no longer be determined by the House of Lords, but drawing upon the Danish practice of impeachment, it would be determined by a specially constituted Court of Impeachment.

Dr Chris Monaghan, Principal Lecturer in Law, University of Worcester

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Reimagining impeachment: A new blueprint for our challenging times

By Chris Monaghan

Henry Dundas, the first Viscount Melville (1742-1811), holds an infamous place in British constitutional history: he was the last person to be impeached. His acquittal by the House of Lords in 1806 marked the beginning of what has become a long pause in the use of an impeachment procedure against politicians or public officials. The last time that events got anywhere near interrupting this long pause came in 2004 when a number of MPs, including our present Prime Minister Boris Johnson, sought to impeach Tony Blair over the invasion of Iraq. The impeachment motion was co-drafted by experienced MPs and placed on the House of Common’s order paper, though proceeded no further (for the motion and background see J Simson Caird, ‘Impeachment’ House of Commons Briefing Paper).

But could it be that the turbulence of recent years when there have been many complaints about the government’s disrespect for accepted constitutional norms, now demands that we shake impeachment processes out of their sleepy historical stupor? It might be possible that reimagining impeachment at Westminster provides a way of ‘shifting the balance’ towards a healthier constitutional equilibrium. Such a shift might have positive effects beyond thinking solely in terms of the executive and the legislature. However, we would need to consider what a new blueprint for impeachment would actually look like. This is important for when we consider below the problem that needs to be addressed, which is an increasing trend for certain members of the executive to display behaviour that demonstrates a failure to show proper respect to the accepted constitutional norms. 

The problem

The starting point is to address whether the executive is sufficiently responsible to the House of Commons for how it conducts the affairs of state and ministerial decision making. 

The balance between the different branches of the state is key. This responsibility of ministers to Parliament is the lynchpin of the Westminster system of government and our unwritten constitution, developed over time through custom and practice, some of its principles are reiterated today in the Ministerial Code. In making a case for impeachment, I am concerned that the House of Commons, as it is empowered at present, is not fully capable of holding the executive to account in performing its basic function of ensuring ministerial decision-making and the conduct of affairs of state are undertaken in accordance with prevailing political morals, procedures and expectations.

In my view, there is now a tendency in executive conduct n either being not prepared to accept the traditional obligations imposed by the constitution and expressed in convention, or to be too willing to push constitutional boundaries. This undermines the political morality of the constitution and the centrality of ethics and obligations in our public life (see for example Andrew Blick and Lord Hennessy, ‘Good Chaps No More? Safeguarding the Constitution in Stressful Times’).

The accountability mechanisms that the Commons currently has as its disposal have inherent limitations. Ministerial question time and select committees, whilst used increasingly effectively in drawing attention to matters of constitutional controversy, can raise public awareness and so exert pressure, but are not directly capable of ensuring ministerial compliance with the accepted norms and principles of good governance. The last resort of a no confidence motion, which if successful will trigger a prime ministerial resignation or general election, is so self-destructive to backbench MPs of the governing party as to be arguably ineffective for the purpose of securing real accountability. This is because bringing down a Prime Minister could reek havoc within their own political party, risks electoral defeat if this is accompanied by a general election, will incur the wrath of constituency party members, and possibly see an MP lose their seat. It should be noted that a no confidence motion should be distinguished from the willingness of MPs to rebel against their own government, as is currently the case with the government and conservative MPs who do not support any further Covid-19 restrictions. This is because the intent is not to bring down the government, but rather to use the threat of undermining the government to influence policy. 

A core problem is the lack of formal checks and balances in the UK’s unwritten constitution, and the dominance of the government over the legislature that has sovereign legal authority in the state. Where the Cabinet enjoys a comfortable majority in the Commons, as at present, and its own MPs and ministers are willing to accept or to ignore its leadership’s assault on the constitution, there is a virtual vacuum of accountability, however strenuous the attempts of the Supreme Court to fill the void.

There have been several well-catalogued cases of unconstitutional conduct in the last few years. They include the willingness of the present Prime Minister to abuse the royal prerogative to prorogue Parliament during the final crucial stages of the Brexit negotiations, and to undermine the reports of independent inquiries into cases of ministerial and parliamentary misconduct (see for example the criticism of the Prime Minister’s advice to the monarch concerning the prorogation of Parliament and the general background to the Supreme Court’s decision in R (on the application of Miller) v The Prime Minister). 

This increased willingness to disregard constitutional norms for reasons of self-serving political expediency risks undermining respect for British political rules and customs generally. It poses potentially catastrophic consequences too if politicians come to believe that any course of conduct can now be justified and override constitutional niceties simply by reference to its electoral and parliamentary majority: this is pure populism, the antithesis of constitutionalism. 

The solution

In my forthcoming book, Accountability, the Constitution and Impeachment: The Case for a Modernised Process in the United Kingdom (Routledge 2022), I argue that impeachment could provide a remedy. I envisage that the House of Commons could more overtly serve as the guardian of the constitution, possessing a modernised power of impeachment that focusses on breaches of the accepted norms of good governance, both in terms of competence and morality. It would not be concerned with allegations of criminal conduct which can and should be left to the ordinary courts. 

This would be a statutory mechanism, established by my proposed Impeachment Act. It would enable a quorum of MPs, which would be twelve, to initiate investigation of serious ministerial misconduct, provide a framework through which investigations would remove fruitless or politically motivated actions, and an independent means of adjudication and outcome, further elaborated on below. At this point it is worth noting that the quorum of twelve MPs was chosen as the number would ensure that there was always the possibility that an impeachment could be brought, but the relatively low number required would be balanced out against the checks and balances within the statutory framework.

Its principal value would be as a form of deterrent. My proposed modernised procedure would certainly make it easier to bring an impeachment action (removing uncertainty over the existence of impeachment, drawing MPs attention to its utility, and stipulating parliamentary time and resources beyond the gift of government), but in practice it would be rarely used. Its main purpose would be as an ultimate sanction if ministers choose to ignore constitutional conventions, or are simply inept. 

Its use as a deterrent would be further strengthened by including in the Impeachment Act a retrospective sanction, operating as a punitive sanction when the prime minister or minister is no longer protected by a government majority in the Commons. This would clearly distinguish it from a no confidence motion. It is clear that there could remain a valid reason for the House of Commons to proceed against former Prime Ministers, such as the continuing sustained criticism of Sir Tony Blair’s conduct over the invasion of Iraq (see for example the petition to rescind Blair’s knighthood).  In the case of serving ministers backed by the government majority, an impeachment process could allow a small number of MPs to commence a time limited examination into allegations of unconstitutionality or incompetence. The point of this would be a high-profile case being made for impeachment that would be accompanied by a report by leading experts, which in itself could serve as a deterrent in the first place, even if the minister was in the short-term protected by their party’s majority in the Commons. 

What would a modernised form of impeachment look like?

My proposals for a modernised impeachment process would be set out in an Impeachment Act. This reimagines impeachment, identifying its rationale and normative purpose, attempting to steer clear of the problems long associated with impeachment. For example, to address concerns over partisanship and MPs using impeachment to proceed against former ministers without merit for purely party-political purposes, I provide procedural safeguards. These include a central role played by the Speaker of the Commons, and a preliminary inquiry by an Independent Panel of Experts, followed by a report by an Impeachment Committee of the Commons. This committee would be specially created to carry out this purpose and would be independent of the Committee on Standards and Privileges.

Historically, once the Commons voted to impeach an individual, then that individual was tried before the House of Lords under the presidency of the Lord Chancellor. Clearly this process has become an anachronism and the involvement of neither the Lords nor Lord Chancellor are desirable today. 

If we are to draw up a modern impeachment process, it should draw on the experience of other comparative legislatures. A useful model is Denmark, where a minister who has been impeached by the legislature is then tried before a specially constituted Court of Impeachment. It was successfully utilised in 1995 in a gross case of illegal ministerial tampering with visa applications to prevent Tamil refugees entering the country. 

The House of Commons would fulfil its role as the guardian of the constitution by calling out unconstitutional conduct and impeaching those responsible. The impeachment is not the final determination of guilt, and it is important that there is a separate forum for reaching a verdict, which would be the Court of Impeachment. In my book I suggest the Court for UK purposes be composed of seven senior judicial office holders and seven suitably qualified lay (non-parliamentary) members serving ten years terms of office. After the lengthy pre-trial processes in Parliament, it would fall to the Court to determine whether a violation of the constitution as set out in the letters of impeachment had occurred. If the answer was yes then, then unlike the traditional operation of English impeachment in times past, there would be no custodial sentence or fine. I envisage that the remedies available to the Court be limited to a declaration of misconduct and/or disqualification from holding public office.

The proposals for reform in my book, Accountability, the Constitution and Impeachment: The Case for a Modernised Process in the United Kingdom, may appear radical, controversial and out of time. However, an impeachment process operating to support and strengthen the authority of the legislature and sanction ministers to comply with ideas and practices of good governance operates successfully elsewhere and should be seriously considered for the UK. As a concept it was pioneered in England in former times and subsequently emulated in other countries in modernised forms. 

A new impeachment process for the UK, working in the way set out at length and in detail in my book, is not designed to replace existing political accountability mechanisms, but rather to buttress and support those mechanisms, and draw attention to the great importance for ministers to respect the fundamental principles of good governance and our constitution. 

Chris Monaghan is a Principal Lecturer in Law at the University of Worcester. I am grateful to Professor Robert Blackburn, Professor Matthew Flinders, Professor Alison Young and Professor Mike Gordon for their extremely helpful feedback.

Accountability, the Constitution and Impeachment: The Case for a Modernised Process in the United Kingdom will be published by Routledge in June 2022. 

This post is cross-posted with permission from the United Kingdom Constitutional Law Association Blog and the original post is available here.

(Suggested citation: C. Monaghan, ‘Reimagining impeachment: A new blueprint for our challenging times’, U.K. Const. L. Blog (12th January 2022) (available at https://ukconstitutionallaw.org/)

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Does being watched make MPs behave better? 

By Ben Worthy and Cat Morgan ( Birkbeck, University of London)

One of the central dilemmas of democracy stems from the information gap between voters and those they elect. After politicians are elected, a yawning knowledge gap opens up between the seemingly all-knowing elector and the only occasionally interested or rarely watchful constituents. Of all the information gaps across democracies, this is perhaps the most fundamental, the most fragile – and the most fraught with complications.  

This gap can be both profound and dangerous for democracy. The information asymmetry can mean that once elected, representatives could easily engage in hidden behaviour that runs contrary to what their voters want. As Strom argues, this includes voting against their constituents’ wishes, using their position to make money, or simply not doing their job very well. As we’ve seen from the Brexit votes and, more recently, the lobbying smash and burn U-turn around Owen Patterson, this is not some abstract possibility.  

So how can we stop legislators ‘deviating, rent seeking or shirking’? One way is to simply provide more information or data to voters. Transparency advocates argue that this can have two separate effects. There’s the concrete impact of exposing individual legislator’s behaviour when it’s out of line or out of order. Then there’s a broader effect through ‘anticipated reactions’, meaning that the mere possibility of being watched makes misbehaviour less likely.  

Yet, with these solutions come with a warning. The hoped-for effects hinge, crucially, on if politicians perceive themselves to be watched. It also assumes what watching will then do. Being watched should, in theory, make us behave better, but it can also just make us better at hiding, or even throw the spotlight into the wrong place.  

Watching Parliament in 2021 

Our Leverhulme Trust funded study has looked at who is watching Westminster. Over the last decade, there are certainly many new ways to do so. Since 2005, a host of new formal and informal ‘political observatories’ or  Parliamentary Monitoring Organisations which aim to put ‘politicians permanently on their toes’. A family of political theory label this ‘monitory’ or ‘counter democracy’ and hope it creates permanent accountability and even ‘humility’ among those under observation.  

In the UK, there is now an ecosystem of ever-expanding tools and sources. You can see data direct from Parliament itself detailing attendance, voting and activity. There’s also a growing number of third parties providing monitoring, most famously TheyWorkForYou, providing individuals MPs’ voting and activities, and Public Whip, collecting rebellion data. If the data isn’t there you can ask for it via an FOI, as someone did about Owen Paterson long ago.  

Beyond this, there’s a shifting landscape of searchable digital platforms of MPs’ expenses data, Register of Interests declarations and sites watching everything from Climate Change voting records, which MP earned the highest additional income 2017-2019 (clue-he’s Prime Minister) to the changes made to MPs’ Wikipedia pages. The data is certainly there, but is it having an effect? 

Who is watching? 

For data to have an effect, it needs to be used. Analysis of TheyWorkForYou.com found users to be a mixture of the engaged public, private companies, NGOs, and the media, with most users already engaged or interested in politics. Outside of these usual suspects academics are significant data users, creating detailed analyses of which MPs blocked Brexit.  

Another interesting group of users are MPs themselves and their staff. TWFY cite 2% of all users as coming within the Parliamentary estate. Their use of data seems to be a mixture of research on others, self-defence of their own records, and championing their reputation. Labour MP Madeline Moon used the data to defend her work: 

TheyWorkForYou says that I have above-average commitments in terms of debates, I ask above-average numbers of questions and I have an above-average response to my electorate when I have letters, although I admit that it also indicates that my voting record is lower than some (HC Deb, 26 September 2019, c958) 

Not only the users but the uses are varied, and data are deployed in a seemingly infinite variety of ways. They are deployed heuristically to understand MPs’ voting positions, or inferentially, around lobbying or donations. Aggregated data easily becomes a metric to measure, compare and create yardsticks for what constitutes a ‘good’ or ‘bad’ MP, giving the illusion of objectivity and measurability. 

Once gotten by these groups, data are then picked up or developed by the media, campaigners as well as across social media. After the controversial Owen Paterson ‘standards’ vote data was quickly found on how many of those supporting Paterson had an outside income or were themselves under investigation. The public may become caught up when data is used to drive a narrative, when it is part of a wider campaign or when they purposely or accidentally see a tweet or an article. What happens next can be unexpected. A lot of monitoring fizzles into an angry wave but not always. In 2013, The Sun used voting record data to create a list of the country’s ‘laziest MPs’ featuring Lucy Powell, who quickly pointed out she was on maternity leave. Not only was the article withdrawn, but the controversy helped the push for proxy voting in 2019.  

What impact is it having? 

MPs do feel they are ‘being watched’ and behave according, albeit to very different degrees. The exact impact is highly dependent on the individual, with MPs in safe or unsafe seats likely to behave very differently. It is also dependent on the data itself, as most voting behaviour can (perhaps) be justified in a way that expenses largesse cannot.  

Monitoring and watching have most frequently led to accountability. MPs put out more explanations and justifications in Hansard, on Twitter or in the local press – some of which are anticipated (“how will your MP vote”). In 2020, Conservative MPs voting against the government’s Covid-19 lockdown measures and tier system took to Twitter to explain their decisions – both before and after key votes.  

In terms of any ‘anticipated effect’, there is evidence of some behaviour change when MPs are under scrutiny, with a reluctance to claim expenses (especially by women MPs) in the Commons.  

Beyond the individual data can be used to rank or compare and can become a benchmark, and a basis for a moral judgement. There is evidence that monitoring, as with monitoring data elsewhere, compels members to ‘raise their reputational game’ and to be ‘be seen doing it’ (Mau 2019, 163).  

While this can drive ‘better’ behaviour, can it also lead to gaming? Nick De Bois, an MP with a very slim majority, pointed out  in his memoirs that MPs can speak in debates 

Sometimes…so you can enlighten constituents on your position on any given issue. Either that, or because it’s not a good thing to have against your name ‘Below-average number of speeches in the House of Commons’ on that pesky ‘They Work for You’ website, which relentlessly measures how active you are in the chamber. 

But MPs do not feel they are being watched fairly. They seem to feel that monitoring is skewed or biased. 30 Conservative MPs published an open letter to the Guardian in 2019 complained about being misrepresented on their climate change records and a full 50 complained in a letter to the Head of mySociety in 2021 about the same thing.  

Nor are they being watched evenly. Certain MPs are watched more than others, and there are skews and biases. Moreover, the data only highlights some areas, such as voting or expenses, leaving constituency work or lobbying in darkness.  

Are politicians behaving better?  

More data does make for some better behaviour. Overall, it increases accountability, justification, and explanation – as well as representation. MPs are explaining more and even folding data into their representative performance. It has also created behavioural change and driven measurement rankings, which itself has an anticipatory effect – no MP wants to be on this sort of list.  

Monitoring has a self-perpetuating momentum, and data about MPs staff, familial employees or meetings has shifted the boundaries of what is known about legislators and for what they are accountable. It has opened new areas intentionally or by accident. An MP in 2021 must be aware of their voting record, their attendance and expenses in a way they would not have been in decades past.  

However, Parliament is a political place, so it’s no surprise that data equals political conflict. Data is used by groups against individuals, groups, and the institution for political and partisan reasons. This then provokes, in turn, explanation, resistance and further conflict. Data can sometimes close the gap between voters and legislator, but it can make for more conflict and controversy as it does so.