Too much democratic accountability can get exhausting. After a hectic 45 minutes the previous day in which she had urged the BBC to become more transparent and relevant, Baroness Morgan of Cotes needed an ermine-filled duvet day.
At culture questions two weeks ago, the secretary of state had at least deigned to drop in to the peers’ gallery to observe – and give a royal wave to – her departmental flunkeys as they took turns at the dispatch box. But the novelty had now palled rather. These weren’t her people and Lady Nicky had outgrown the Commons.
So it was junior minister Nigel Adams who found himself having to handle a tricky urgent question on the BBC licence fee that Her Ladyship was unable to answer in person.
What Nicky had said about the BBC had never been intended as a declaration of war. Absolutely not. He couldn’t understand how people might have got that impression. The government considered the Beeb to be a beacon of British values and the only reason it now prevented ministers from appearing on some of its programmes was because most of them were simply not good enough. Boris Johnson just didn’t want to lower the quality of the BBC’s output with worthless contributions from his cabinet of fools.
There was no sinister agenda in play, Adams insisted. All Lady Turncotes had done was to implement an eight-week consultation period, during which a wide range of views would be heard, and at the end of which the government would do exactly as it had planned all along.
There would be no criminal prosecutions for non-payment of the licence fee, followed a short while later by the abolition of the licence fee itself. Then hopefully no more Beeb. Other than that the BBC would be free to do whatever it wanted. Simples.
The shadow culture secretary, Tracy Brabin, was not exactly reassured by this. She reminded Adams that non-payment of the licence fee wasn’t exactly a pressing problem for the criminal justice system – only five people were currently in prison for the offence – and that most people considered the licence fee as the fairest form of funding for a public service broadcaster.
And on the question of accountability and transparency, the government should start by looking at its own record on banning journalists from prime ministerial events and lobby briefings.
All Adams could do was to continue to play dumb. Something that comes relatively easily to him, if not quite so easily as to some of his colleagues. The timing of the consultation had nothing whatsoever to do with the government’s desire to avoid public scrutiny. Even though there had been precisely nothing about the licence fee in the Tory manifesto just two months ago. It was just one of those things. An amazing coincidence.
Just like it had been total serendipity that, only 24 hours after giving an interview about how Johnson – a man for whom he had never previously disguised his contempt – was basically a “really, really good bloke” whom he had always admired, Philip Hammond was in line to join Lady Nicky in the Lords. Failing upwards is very on trend at the moment. There must be hundreds of Tory MPs, both past and present, who will be waiting for the official announcement with intense anticipation.
One of whom could well be Theresa Villiers, who had earlier answered environment questions. Villiers is yet another cabinet minister whose entire political career has been built on under-achievement. The most memorable thing she has ever done in her 15 years in parliament was to be one of two MPs to have joined the 380-metre “March to Freedom” during Andrea Leadsom’s short-lived campaign to become Tory leader in 2016. But all mediocre things must come to an end eventually, and Villiers is tipped for the chop in the imminent reshuffle.
The Commons was more or less deserted for Villiers’ last stand – a bad day for the ticket touts who had eagerly been promoting her farewell appearance – but the environment secretary dutifully fulfilled her brief in her usual semi-detached manner. Her face is always devoid of expression and, in years to come, philosophers will debate whether she is more alive than dead.
Still, Villiers did achieve a minor triumph in saying almost nothing of interest. She steered clear of the row over COP 26 – possibly because she had no idea the conference was even due to be taking place – and prevaricated over whether an Australian-style trade deal would mean no tariffs on koalas and kangaroos that had been barbecued in the bushfires.
The closest she came to a coherent statement was that the whole point of Brexit was for Britain to waste a lot of time and money deciding to implement the same food and environmental standards that we had in the EU. It was a fittingly apt note of futility on which to bow out. Arise Lady Theresa. Your time has surely come.
