Untitled Document
The Prime Minister claims to be defending liberty but a barely noticed
Bill will rip the heart out of parliamentary democracy
The Legislative and Regulatory Reform Bill is hardly an aerodynamic title;
it doesn't fly from the lips. People have difficulty remembering the order of
the words and what exactly will be the effect of this apparently dull piece
of lawmaking.
But in the dusty cradle of Committee A, a monster has been stirring
and will, in due course, take flight to join the other measures in the government's
attack on parliamentary democracy and the rights of the people. The 'reform'
in the title allows ministers to make laws without the scrutiny of parliament
and, in some cases, to delegate that power to unelected officials. In every
word, dot and comma, it bears the imprint of New Labour's authoritarian paternity.
Like all Labour's anti-libertarian bills, it appears in relatively innocuous
guise. The bill was presented last year as a way of improving a previous Labour
act and is purportedly designed to remove some of the burden of regulation that
weighs on British business and costs billions of pounds every year. Labour says
it will enable ministers to cut regulation without needing to refer to parliament
and so simplify and speed things up.
The reality is that the beneficiaries of this bill will not be industry and
business, but ministers and the executive, who will enjoy a huge increase in
their unscrutinised power. As with the Civil Contingencies Act 2004, which was
presented as modernising local and national emergency measures but which went
much further to give ministers arbitrary powers, this bill takes another chunk
out of our centuries- old democracy.
The really frightening thing about last week's proceedings is that there were
just two journalists watching as the minister piloting the legislation, Jim
Murphy, refused to debate constitutional implications. Instead, he intoned replies
drafted in advance by himself and, presumably, his civil servants. Disgracefully,
he dismissed as 'debating points' considered objections from Tories Christopher
Chope and Oliver Heald and Liberal Democrats David Heath and David Howarth.
All raised the Kafkaesque possibility that this bill was so demonically drafted
that an unscrupulous government could use it to modify the bill itself and so
extend its powers even further.
Watching, I reflected that this was truly how democracy is extinguished. Not
with guns and bombs, but from the inside by officials and politicians who deceive
with guile and who no longer pretend to countenance the higher interests of
the constitution.
The 'debating points' were rather more than that. They concern the powers that
may be granted to ministers that could further damage the concept of habeas
corpus, alter the law on Britain's relationship with the Commonwealth, on the
relationship with the EU, on extradition, the appropriation of property and
the criminal law. In theory, even the monarchy could be affected.
This is to say little about common law, the centuries of precedents and rulings
which contain so many of the historic rights of British culture. 'Oh no,' said
the minister, as if talking to a child, 'ministers will give assurances; they
will confine themselves to the regulations that concern business.'
If that is the case, why does the bill not say so? Why is it drafted so loosely?
Why is Jim Murphy doing so much to protect its versatility? Why won't he put
the safeguards in the bill from the start? There can be only one answer: ministers
want to bypass parliament and transfer authority to themselves and their officials
under the cover of helping business.
Mr Murphy has let it be known that the government might concede powers for
select committees to veto use of the fast-track process for issues they consider
controversial. But it is worth remembering that membership of select committees
is controlled by the whips and that the chairmen are generally biddable. We
should also wonder why Mr Murphy has not already drafted this veto, if he genuinely
wants to protect and reassure parliament.
The essential point, however, is that the individual decisions taken by ministers
as a result of this new law will not be scrutinised in the chamber of the House
of Commons.
Sometimes, I wonder if those of us worried about the attacks on British democracy
by Tony Blair's government are getting things out of proportion or misunderstanding
the Prime Minister's mission, as he described it in last week's Observer
I certainly understand that the capillaries of a society run from bottom to
top, bearing all the bad news, intractable problems, mood swings and crises;
that it is all ceaselessly pumped upwards in the direction of the Prime Minister;
and that the view afforded in Downing Street must sometimes be truly extraordinary,
a seething, organic, Hogarthian panorama of delinquency and unreason.
A Prime Minister must try to reach beyond the day-to-day business of government,
frantic though it is, and make sense of what he sees below, seek the connecting
threads, order up the policies and implement them so that improvement becomes
possible. Few will disagree that this is the chief impulse of Tony Blair's premiership.
As he told us long ago, he is a moderniser. Modernising is still the closest
thing he has to a political ideology and it was significant how many times the
words modern and modernity appeared in last week's article. At one point, he
declared: 'For me, this is not an issue of liberty but of modernity', as if
liberty and modernity were somehow at odds.
Because he is by his own account well-intentioned, he believes that nothing
should get in the way of this modernising purpose, the exercise of his benevolent
reason on the turbulent society below. Like Mrs Thatcher, he has become almost
mystically responsible for the state of the nation. And like Mrs Thatcher, he
finds that after a long period in Number 10, he is still surrounded by sluggishness
and resistance. Public services are slow to reform; the judiciary obstructs
ministerial action with footling concerns about individual rights; and parliament
is agonisingly slow to produce the fast-acting laws he craves.
You can see why, as time runs out, he has the need to cut through it all to
achieve the things that he so dearly believes are right for our society. That
is the way a moderniser works, because it is the only measure of success.
Yet this addiction to the idea of modernity is also a kind of arrogance about
the times we live in, a sense that no Prime Minister has ever faced the problems
coming across his desk. It indicates a common condition in modernisers and modernists
of all hues and that is an almost complete lack of a grounding in history. If
Blair was more interested in British history, he would understand that the present,
while certainly unique, is not uniquely awful.
But more important, he would see the great damage his laws are doing to the
institutions we have inherited - to the constitution, to the tradition of parliamentary
sovereignty, to the independence of the judiciary, to individual rights and
to the delicate relationship between the individual and the state. All of them
are products of British history. They are not perfect, but they make up a fairly
large part of the body politic. This is who we are.
This rush of laws presented to parliament in disguise, with their hidden
sleeper clauses, are a disaster for our democracy. They are changing our country
rapidly and profoundly. What I saw in Committee A was the triumph of Tony Blair's
modernity over liberty.