Monday’s UK Cabinet day-trip to Aberdeen, the first occasion
in two years when Tory MPs outnumbered pandas in Scotland, was a complicated
logistical exercise. Public safety was a
huge concern, since most Cabinet members aren’t accustomed to being that far
north without being seized by the urge to shoot something. In addition, there was the threat of the
Scottish Cabinet unexpectedly appearing on the scene and subjecting Dave and
his pals to a hilarious Benny Hill chase sequence.
When, despite Michael Gove’s intensive tutoring, the Cabinet
proved to be absolute rubbish at spikkin Doric, it was the last straw. Aides regretfully concluded that the
politicians would have to be kept apart from the general public at all times. Alistair Carmichael was instructed to run a
decoy operation in Shell HQ car park, blowing aside the media’s fatuous
questions with his copious supply of wind.
Meanwhile, the remaining Cabinet members were smuggled into the building
one by one, concealing themselves where necessary behind lamp-posts, shrubbery
or, in the case of Eric Pickles, Pittodrie Stadium.
As Cabinets go, it was something of a ‘B’ Team. William Hague, who’d recently intervened in
the debate with all the finesse of a hippopotamus in gumboots, was needed in
Parliament for some booming but empty oratory on Ukraine. George Osborne, still commemorated on local dartboards
three years after his tax grab brought oil investment to its knees, had
sensibly found a G20 meeting to attend on the other side of the planet. But far be it from Westminster to
short-change Scotland. The remaining bunch were a perfectly viable embodiment
of Tory values, choosing to trumpet their economic achievements in a town full
of millionaires in a country whose biggest food bank had just run out of
supplies.
Their glorious leader had already recorded his keynote
statement aboard an oil rig, with his hard hat giving him a distinct resemblance to Bob
the Builder, albeit after he’d inherited a fortune and gone completely off the
rails. Anybody with a functioning
cerebellum knew that the UK government’s stewardship of North Sea resources had
been pants, but, with impressive chutzpah, Dave stood there insisting he could
fix it. Bet he used to say that to
restaurant owners whose premises the Bullingdon Club had just trashed.
The UK government had “deep pockets”, he told us, which may
explain where they hid the McCrone Report for 30 years after it had indicated this
oil thing might be quite handy for the Scots. Their “broad shoulders”, possibly the
evolutionary result of having to cope with such big heads, may be useful for
nudging provincials out of the way and deflecting incoming wealth towards the
South East, but they’d be a liability if you were in a tight spot. Wouldn’t they just get stuck? As for “top ten economy”, a phrase difficult
to contemplate without Alan Freeman’s Pick
Of The Pops theme running through your head, that description’s certainly
true at the time of writing, but of scant relevance when said economy is run by
chinless chancers you can’t un-elect.
The question isn’t whether a future Scottish government is up
to the task of matching Westminster’s track record. It’s how, short of setting fire to the oil as
it comes ashore and chucking piles of £20 notes into the flames, the Scottish government
could actually do worse. If mankind could invent a truth serum to which Whitehall
isn’t immune, what would be the UK government’s honest appraisal?
“Well, initially
we used the oil money to pay off creditors because we’d made ourselves bankrupt,
then we spent 11 years compensating for the societal carnage caused by the
policies of a deranged ideologue, and subsidising the bargain-basement sell-off
of our public services to speculators.
After that it’s mostly a blur, but recently we’ve blown a fair whack on
protection money to the banking community and tax breaks for the fantastically
rich. Now we’re flirting with bankruptcy
again, but we’ve got a mind-blowingly expensive train set to build and we’ve told
flooded Thames Valley residents money’s no object, so we wonder if you could lend
us a few quid?”
Given the First Minister’s credentials as a former oil
economist, Westminster’s choice of the North Sea as a debating topic was tantamount
to picking up the nearest frying pan and challenging Andy Murray to a game of tennis. To make it interesting, Alex and his
Cabinet were accidentally-on-purpose also meeting in the area, at Portlethen
ten, seven, six or five miles away, depending on which way up the broadcasters
were holding their maps. It was no less
a stunt than the UK Government’s, although at least the Scottish Cabinet does
make a frequent habit of venturing out and about, instead of showing up roughly
as often as Halley’s Comet.
Alex’s strategy, gleaned from the “bleedin’ obvious” section
of his campaigning handbook, was to anticipate every move his leaden-footed opponents
would make and do things differently. So instead of screeching on to the tarmac in “Scare
Force One”, his Cabinet turned up in a coach as if on a Sunday School outing. Eschewing a swanky oil company boardroom, they
met in a chilly church hall, as the BBC's Nick Robinson ruefully tweeted through
chattering teeth. Rather than executive
coffee and luxury biscuits from preferred corporate suppliers, they had a
whistling tea urn and scrumptious carrot cake courtesy of Mrs MacPherson of the
Guild.
The greatest difference was, of course, that after their
meeting they held a question-and-answer session with the Portlethen public, inevitably reported by the press as “Salmond gets a grilling”. It would be a foolish dream to expect
the same of their UK counterparts, but at least some of them consented to TV interviews,
including Mr Cameron himself, who by the time STV's Bernard Ponsonby was finished
with him was taking on a lovely shade of pink at the edges. As his eyes bulged, you could see him think, “Oh
bugger, is this the man George told me to avoid at all costs?”
As Westminster’s finest headed for a stiff gin on the plane,
the broadcasters began a frantic search for anyone with serious connections to
the oil industry who gave two hoots about independence. It hadn’t worked with Sir Ian Wood, whose newly-published
report on how to do things better was the ostensible reason for the whole day’s
circus, and despite increasingly bizarre lines of questioning it didn’t work
with anyone else.
Looks like they might
have to go back to the old scare about the oil running out soon, with warnings
not to spend too long in the loo or you might miss it. It’s not Scotland’s oil, it’s Schrödinger’s: bust if we open the box, and bonanza if the UK
does.
Coming soon:
- Concern about the Scottish whisky industry, amid reports of dwindling peat stocks and a growing worldwide temperance movement.
- Scottish tourism under threat, as a respected expert announces global warming could turn off the Gulf Stream and insurers predict increased premiums for midge bite risk.
You've brightened my morning!
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