Tag: House of Lords

Lords reform looks close to death

It looks like Nick Clegg’s proposals to reform the House of Lords are about to be consigned to the scrapheap. Although the government won the vote on second reading by 462 to 124, they had to withdraw the program motion that would have set the timetable for the rest of the bill’s journey through the Commons. Labour had promised to vote against it, and with around 100 Tory MPs threatening to rebel, it didn’t stand a chance of passing.

Labour claims that they opposed the program motion because it didn’t allow enough time for debate, but I suspect they’re more interested in exacerbating tensions between the Tories and the Lib Dems. It sure seems to be working.

Now the government is in a terrible pickle. Theoretically, they could just take the bill through the rest of its parliamentary stages without any preset time limits, but their rebel backbenchers would almost certainly end up filibustering it. The government will be all too aware that an earlier attempt at Lords reform, the Parliament (No. 2) Bill of 1968, died because MPs on both sides were able to slow proceedings to a crawl until ministers finally gave up.

If the Lords Reform Bill is going to make any progress, there has to be a program motion. David Cameron has hinted that he won’t negotiate with Labour, which means he’ll have to appease his own backbenchers. The Daily Telegraph has reported that Cameron is offering extra days in committee, or a reduction in the number of elected peers. But since they want the entire bill scrapped, it seems doubtful that those concessions will win him many votes. Interestingly, the Telegraph is also reporting that Cameron has indicated that, if he can’t win over his backbenchers by the end of the summer, he will abandon the entire bill. That would place a huge strain on the coalition, and I suspect a messy divorce would soon follow.

Still, I hope Cameron does come to his senses and jettison this atrocious bill. It really is a dog’s breakfast. Nick Clegg and friends have repeatedly said that they want the second chamber to be more accountable, yet they’ve proposed a body whose members would serve a 15-year term without the possibility of re-election.If you never have to face the voters again, you don’t have to worry about what they think.

The bill also seeks to ensure that the reformed Lords remains subordinate to the Commons. But that convention only really makes sense when the Commons has an electoral mandate and the Lords doesn’t. Requiring an elected chamber to kowtow to another elected chamber is an exercise in constitutional fundamentalism.

The way the government has tried to secure the primacy of the Commons seems poorly thought out. Clause 2 says that the Parliament Acts 1911 and 1949 will continue to apply to the reformed House of Lords. Those acts are what allow the House of Commons to pass legislation over the Lords’ veto. But they still allow the Lords to delay non-financial legislation for about a year. Until now, the Lords has usually given way in the end, which is why the Parliament Acts have only been used a handful of times. Would an elected chamber be equally self-denying? I doubt it.

Then there is the Salisbury-Addison convention which states that the Lords won’t reject government bills that arise from manifesto commitments. That convention was negotiated back when the House of Lords was filled with hereditary peers, most of whom supported the Conservatives. Why should it apply to an elected chamber whose political complexion reflects the will of the people?

On the plus side, the wrangle over Lords reform has helped convince me that Britain probably needs a written constitution. The idea of effecting constitutional change of this magnitude through a mere Act of Parliament is troubling, to say the least.

La Reyne le veult!

Monday saw one of the coolest events in the British parliamentary calendar: prorogation. What is prorogation, you ask? Simply put, it’s the end of a parliamentary session. But unlike here in the US where the legislature expires quietly, Parliament goes out with a ceremony that’s 100% pure awesomeness.

The power to prorogue Parliament is part of the royal prerogative, though nowadays it is only exercised on the advice of the government. In the past, monarchs prorogued Parliament in person, but since the 19th century it has been customary for the sovereign to appoint a commission of peers to perform the ceremony on their behalf. Nowadays, it is also customary for the prorogation ceremony to include the signification of royal assent to any outstanding bills, but the two things are technically separate.[note]Monarchs stopped signifying Assent in person around the same time as they stopped proroguing Parliament. Until 1967, Assent was always signified by the Lords Commissioners. But that eventually proved to be too inconvenient, so Parliament passed the Royal Assent Act, which allowed the Queen to signify her Assent by signing Letters Patent. The older, more formal, is only used at prorogation.[/note]

Illustration of a peerage robe courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

The ‘Lords Commissioners’ are always chosen from among the ranks of the Privy Counsellors, and usually include the Lord Speaker, the leaders of the main political parties in the Lords, and the Convenor of the Crossbench Peers.[end]The Archbishop of Canterbury and the Lord Chancellor are also named in the Queen’s Commission, but they no longer take part in the ceremony.[/end] At the appointed hour, they put on their parliamentary robes (complete with ermine) and process into the House of Lords, where they take their seats on a bench between the Throne and the Woolsack. The male Commissioners were black bicorn hats, while their female counterparts wear something that looks like a squashed tricorn hat with a gold brooch on the side.[end]The ladies’ headgear seems to be a modern innovation. Traditionally, women wore the same bicorn hats as their male colleagues, and I’m not sure why a change was made. I think it’s fairly recent though.[/end]. The commission is presided over by a Minister of Cabinet rank, usually the Leader of the House.[end] and he’s the only one who gets a speaking role. The rest of the Commission just sits there in silence.

The Leader of the House commands the Gentleman Usher of the Black Rod (who also doubles as the Serjeant-at-Arms of the House of Lords) to summon the House of Commons. When the Commons arrive, they can’t actually enter the Lords Chamber. Instead, they have to stand at the threshold. As they crowd in, they bow three times to the Lords Commissioners, and the Lords Commissioners in turn acknowledge each bow by doffing their hats (though female Commissioners don’t doff their hats for some reason).

Once the Commons are in their place, it is time for the best part of the entire ceremony: the reading of the Queen’s Commission. This is probably one of the most awesomely arcane documents in the British constitutional repertoire. It’s addressed to “Our right trusty and right well beloved the Lords Spiritual and Temporal” and “Our trusty and well beloved the Knights, Citizens, and Burgesses of the House of Commons in this present Parliament assembled,” and contains references to the “fidelity, prudence, and circumspection” of her Commissioners, as well as the “divers (sic) difficult and pressing affairs concerning Us, the State and Defense of Our United Kingdom, and the Church” that caused her to summon Parliament in the first place. At the end of the document, the clerk informs everyone that it’s “signed by the Queen herself, with her own hand.”[note]Those with a hankering for grand legalese can find a sample of the Commission here.[/note]

The commission read, it’s time for the Royal Assent. As the Clerk of the Crown in Chancery reads the short title of each bill, the Clerk of the Parliaments turns to the Commons and pronounces the appropriate Norman French formula (in most cases, it’s La Reyne le veult, which means “the Queen wills it”). That’s right: in Britain, a bill formally becomes an act when a bewigged man shouts at legislators in a dead dialect.

Assent given, it’s time for the Leader of the House to read the Queen’s prorogation speech “in Her Majesty’s own words.” Of course that’s not exactly true: like the Speech from the Throne, this speech is written for her by the government, and it’s basically a boring laundry-list of all the great things the government has done over the past session. When the speech is over, the Leader of the House formally prorogues Parliament to a certain day, and the Commons withdraw. Much more hat-doffing ensues.

Now there are some people who would love to do away with the robes, hats, and Norman French in the name of ‘modernization.’ After all, the prorogation ceremony isn’t necessary. It could be streamlined, or even eliminated. But at the same time, there’s also no real compelling argument for doing so.  Whether it’s fireworks on the Fourth of July or bewigged men shouting in Norman French, there’s nothing wrong with a little spectacle. 🙂

 

Lords Reform: A Real Farce

The Joint Committee on the Draft House of Lords Reform Bill published its report on the government’s proposals yesterday. There weren’t really any surprises: the committee recommended an 80 percent elected/20 percent appointed House of 450 members, each of whom would serve for a non-renewable 15-year-term. The elected members would be chosen using a modified version of the single transferable vote method, while the appointed members would be chosen by a statutory Appointments Commission (though the Prime Minister would retain the ability to nominate a limited number of individuals to serve as Ministers in the House of Lords). The Church of England would continue to be represented by bishops, though their number would be reduced to 12. But I have a feeling that this particular scheme is going to go the way of all the other schemes that have been proposed since Lords reform began in 1911.

As always, the stumbling block will be the issue of the relationship between the two Houses of Parliament. Right now, the House of Lords is subordinate to the House of Commons. The Parliament Acts 1911 and 1949 allow the Commons to pass legislation without the Lords’ consent, while the Salisbury Convention states that the Lords will not reject government bills that arise from manifesto commitments.

But although the Lords can no longer fight the Commons on equal terms, they still play a valuable role as a revising chamber. Unlike in the Commons, where legislation is often nodded through without any real scrutiny, the Lords look at every clause of every bill. The Lords is traditionally a much less partisan place than the Commons, and many of its members have real-world experience beyond the Westminster village. The Lords can look at legislation from a different perspective, and their amendments often go a long way toward improving the final product (in fact, the vast majority of Lords amendments are subsequently agreed to by the Commons).

The main problem with the government’s proposals is that they assume that the reformed House of Lords will remain subordinate to the Commons. But while it makes sense for an appointed body to defer to the will of an elected body, it’s hard to see why an elected House of Lords should have to give way. After all, one could argue that it would have greater democratic legitimacy since its members would be chosen through a form of proportional representation rather than first-past-the-post. It would only be a matter of time before the two Houses came into serious conflict, and it’s difficult to see how the primacy of the Commons could survive. Legislative gridlock is all-too-common here in America, but it would throw a real monkey wrench into the British system.

The government’s proposals face a perilous journey to the statute book. I suspect that, deep down, most MPs are aware of the absurdity of one elected chamber having to kowtow to another elected chamber. There are also many Conservative MPs who would love to torpedo Lords reform in order to give Nick Clegg and the Liberal Democrats a symbolic middle finger. If the newspaper reports are to be believed, there are even Cabinet ministers who are quietly encouraging rebellion. Even if the bill squeaks by the Commons, it faces massive opposition in the Lords. Theoretically, the government could use the Parliament Acts to force the bill onto the statute book, but that would require them to get the bill through the Commons twice. Given how divided the Coalition is on the subject of Lords reform, I’m not sure the government would want to re-fight what’s bound to be a bruising battle.

Despite what Nick Clegg and company say now, I suspect the House of Lords will remain in its current form for many years to come.