Clad in a magnificent embroidered tabard, the portly figure of Garter King of Arms has been working overtime in Westminster recently, introducing new peers in accordance with ceremonial tradition. Processions of the Prime Minister’s friends, family and financiers have donned the ermine robes and taken their seats in the Lords for the first time. They are able to do that with ease at the moment, since most of their lordships are obeying instructions to stay away from the chamber. Just wait, though, until Covid is under control and they all come rushing back. Then the scramble to find a place to sit on the Conservative benches, where most of the newbies belong, will be worse than ever.
Each newcomer has to be supported by two existing peers. It was fitting, although perhaps a mite unsubtle, that the new Lord Cruddas of Shoreditch was led in by Lord Leigh of Hurley, the Senior Treasurer of the Conservative Party. The House of Lords Appointments Commission took the view that Peter Cruddas was not Lords’ material but there were hundreds of thousands of reasons why Boris Johnson was persuaded otherwise.
Such varied characters now grace the red benches that it was little surprise when Baroness McIntosh of Pickering expressed her good wishes to Baron Shellfish of Bridlington. Expertise on molluscs is proving to be very useful in current debates, where terms such as “undepurated bivalves” are bandied around authoritatively. But it turns out that Anne McIntosh, a former MP and MEP, was not referring to the PM’s favourite purveyor of lobsters but to a northern fish exporter which has been forced to cease trading.
Apart from the shellfish battle with Brussels, the Lords is still deeply mired in Brexit business, laboriously working its way through the backlog of statutory instruments that the Commons nodded through months ago. Many of these are technical in the extreme, transferring powers that were vested in the EU to UK bodies: Unauthorised Drilling Activities in the Eastern Mediterranean (Sanctions) (EU Exit) Regulations 2020, for instance. Some, however, arouse strong feelings, as did the Town and Country Planning (Border Facilities and Infrastructure) EU Exit (England) Special Development Order 2020.
It may sound innocent enough, but this short piece of legislation allows the government to ride rough shod over normal planning procedures to accommodate the lorries that are headed for Europe and the various procedures required to examine their cargoes—particularly those that are alive, like the pesky molluscs. Some lords wanted to know why, given that it had been clear for several years that the UK would be leaving the Single Market, it was only at the end of last year the government decided it had better take this action. They were no wiser at the end of the debate but acknowledged that there was no point in opposing the regulations, since they were already in operation and the bulldozers had begun work on some of the sites.
With so many of these regulations, the lords have asked prescient questions, been met with bland responses and then, grudgingly, had to wield the rubber stamp. But, sometimes, they do manage to make a difference. That was certainly the case with the Covert Human Intelligence Sources (Criminal Conduct) Bill, known to its friends as CHIS. The Lords wanted to put more checks on those sent undercover to garner intelligence and amended the Bill accordingly. When the government pushed back, the Commons meekly did their masters’ bidding and didn’t accept the Lords’ changes. At the point the legislation returned to the upper chamber, however, some Conservatives were prepared to rebel and, eventually, the government offered a compromise.
“The Bill is not perfect but it has been very significantly improved by your lordships. We can fairly say that we have done our job,” declared Lord Anderson of Ipswich. He is well qualified to work on such legislation, having been the Independent Reviewer of Terrorism Legislation between 2011 and 2017.
Another major Bill which is prompting a spirit of rebellion in the Lords is the Trade Bill. The government is so keen to get its new trade deals signed all around the world that it wants as little interference as possible from parliament. Nevertheless, some peers have qualms about certain trading partners. In particular, they are not comfortable about doing deals with those guilty of genocide. Amendments to this end have won hefty support but the government, while insisting that it really doesn’t approve of genocide, is resisting. This looks likely to be one of those battles where the Lords tries to persuade the Commons to be brave and stand up to ministers, in a round of what is known as “ping pong.”
Inevitably, ministers remind the lords to remember their place as the unelected second chamber, there to advise, revise but, eventually, bow to the will of the elected House. On this occasion, that duty falls to Lord Grimstone of Boscobel, the permanently polite former businessman who joined the Lords just before his 71st birthday.
Whatever the subject, the lords can generally field someone who knows what they are talking about, which certainly gives them an edge over the Commons. Take the issue of when Covid restrictions might be eased. Lord Naseby was keen that sporting venues could be early in the queue, and he should know, being President of Northamptonshire Cricket Club and a member of Wimbledon.
Sometimes, though, the joy of the Lords is learning something new. My revelation of the month came from reading the debate on the Bribery Act. It was the first time I’d encountered the government’s “Anti-Corruption Champion.” Apparently, there has been one since 2004. It is a personal appointment by the Prime Minister. And the current incumbent? Mr Dido Harding, aka John Penrose MP.
That deserves a toast in Bishops Bar—if only it were open!
