Chapter 87, Downing Street, 15 March 1937
It was a lovely, bright, crisp, Spring day. The Cabinet members, with the ordeal of the Abdication behind them, gathered in a happy, optimistic mood. Halifax, walking over from a breakfast with his close friend Dawson of the The Times, was quickly in step with a cheerful Ormsby-Gore, the President of the Board of Trade. Something was in the air, a new King was established, and a Conservative majority administration was in place. Halifax, however, seemed distracted, as if troubled by an underlying tension; India, like a dark cloud on a sunny day, remained, far off, threatening. Keeping his cool reserve, and accompanied by Ormsby-Gore, he arrived at Downing Street.
“Ah, alright,” Eden said, brightly. It was clear, as he strode into the Cabinet meeting, that he was still enjoying the job. “One agenda item for today, if you please,” this was said in a commanding tone. “I, ah, think that we agreed to look today at the King’s Speech. We’re planning, just to remind you all, the full ceremony and festivity for His Majesty to open our Parliament and present our programme. So,” he turned to Oliver. “I think that the, ah, economic measures should come first.”
“Well, Prime Minister, we will do two things. We will make announcements in the King’s Speech, and then a budget the week after,” Stanley said, relying on his notes. “With the Bank of England now onboard, we will announce the Defence Contribution in the King’s Speech.”
Ormsby-Gore coughed to attract attention. “Does that mean you’re trailing this in other speeches first? To allay the fears of the big companies.”
Stanley nodded. “To be fair, it’s a Baldwin Cabinet idea that never got the traction it deserved, so much of the uncertainty has already passed through the markets, but yes, the Prime Minister and I have agreed that I will give a speech at a dinner tomorrow, and the Prime Minister will record some remarks for the news reels in the pictures to go out over the next couple of weeks.” Eden nodded his agreement. “The CDC…”
Inskip, the President of the Board of Education, was confused. “The ‘C’DC?”
“Yes, Sir Thomas. We ultimately went with ‘Collective’ rather than ‘National’ Defence Contribution. We thought that it was more encompassing, ‘we’re all in it together’, you see?” Inskip nodded. “This will be the tone of the budget.”
“What levels did we agree?” That was Walter Womersley, the Agriculture Minister. Many of his charges were small businesses, modest farms and family-owned fishing boats.
“Good question, Walter. I propose that the CDC is payable by persons or corporate entities trading, in industry or in the professions a levy on profits exceeding two thousand pounds will be made. Walter, we have deliberately kept this high, the Treasury calculates that nine of ten family fishing concerns will be unaffected.” Womersley nodded happily.
“The point is that we’ve scrapped the Chamberlain idea for an alternative calculation based on holdings,” Eden said proudly. “The CDC goes for profits, nothing more.”
“Quite, Prime Minister,” Stanley offered. “The charge will apply to an average of profits over years nineteen thirty-four, thirty-five and thirty-six. We previously discussed a rate of seven percent for most entities.”
“Thank you, Chancellor. Does Oliver have our final approval?” There were nods, Eden scribbling a note next to his agenda. “Very well, you have your authority, let’s makes sure it is announced in the King’s Speech for the full detail in the budget the week after.”
Kingsley Wood looked concerned. “Perhaps, Prime Minister, we should encourage Neville to speak up in the House during the debate. Bring him into the fold? He is a former Chancellor.”
“I disagree,” Margesson, the newly confirmed Home Secretary, who had hitherto rarely spoken at Cabinet, immediately interjected. “At worst it makes him look like our puppet master, at best we look like we’re pinching the undeveloped ideas of the Baldwin Government.”
“But Neville could still be an asset to the Party, David,” Kingsley Wood said, earnestly.
All eyes fell on Eden, who seemed disconcerted by the attention. “Thank you, ah, Howard, for your suggestion; I tend to agree with the Home Secretary,” he inclined his head towards Margesson, “who is perhaps especially qualified, given his former role, to think of how this may be, ah, perceived. Neville can sit this one out,” he said, simply but firmly. “Moving, ah, on. Foreign Secretary?”
"The Speech will contain the usual wording about friendly relations, we’ll include the idea of the Yugoslav visit that His Majesty has agreed to, that we’re looking to forge links with Mediterranean and Baltic powers, but that’s about it.” Kingsley Wood finished reading and looked up.
“Include,” Eden said after a pause, “something about non-intervention in Spain, but then something about ‘while trying to mitigate human suffering’.” Kingsley Wood nodded. Eden wanted to move on. “And, ah, I suppose that we’ll be conducting visits to France. Next?”
“Empire, India, Palestine, and so forth,” Zetland, a former Secretary of State for India but now Leader of the Lords, said hurriedly.
“Yes, that’s in,” Eden said, quickly, “as discussed at our last meeting, His Majesty will express sadness at the situation in India, pleasure…”
“…pleasure?”
“Yes, Lord Strathcona,” Eden snapped.
“Perhaps,” the Attorney General, Somervell said after a pause, “saying ‘pleasure’ is rather emotive. What about ‘approval’?”
“Yes, perhaps, we, ah, have His Majesty express approval that the situation in Palestine is improving, and talk about the need for a long term, ah, India settlement.”
“Which we don’t yet have a plan for,” Stanley said, wryly. Eden airily waved a hand, dismissing the point. Halifax, feeling judged by the Chancellor, scowled.
“Then it’s the treasury bit,” Stanley offered, “general domestic and global outlook, which Trade,” he nodded at Ormsby-Gore, “and I have agreed.”
“Good work, Oliver, thank you.”
“Then it’s the Public Order Act,” Margesson said, “which we haven’t discussed in full Cabinet.”
“You’ve summarised your ideas though,” Strathcona, the Secretary of State for War, said languidly.
“Perhaps a reminder of the provisions would be useful,” Eden said.
“We haven’t finalised the details, but broadly, an offence prohibiting the wearing of political uniforms in public, another one banning all uniformed protests, a requirement to notify the local constabulary of any planned protest, a power for constabularies to search all protesters, a power to ban, limit in size or duration, or to alter…”
“…alter?”
“Yes, Foreign Secretary, to alter the route of any protest on the grounds of public protection or nuisance.” Margesson paused. “There are also the national protection provisions, which will tighten the right of protest of workers in armament factories, dockyards, railways, inland waterways, and aerodromes.”
“Labour,” Stanley said softly, “will hate this.”
Margesson looked up at the Chancellor. “So? We will also introduce a new range of offences to protect public order.”
“Thank you, Home Secretary. Questions?”
Inskip, a seasoned lawyer, looked concerned. “Will the notification requirement have a time specified? So, for example, at least one day before the protest is scheduled. And do we define a protest? Is it five people with a flag, or five thousand?”
“They’re good points, Sir Thomas,” Eden agreed, “but for a later Parliamentary debate. I remind you at this stage, we are merely signalling our programme, our, ah, intent. Are we agreed that the Public Order Act goes in the speech?” There were nods. “Thank you, gentlemen.”
“I suppose I’m next,” the Earl of Plymouth, the rather unwilling Minister of Labour, said without interest. “The new Factories Bills have been given the nod from the civil servants, so HM will announce them.”
“Thank you,” Eden said, to his former Foreign Office subordinate. “Then fish, farms, housing, rent relief.”
“And then,” Hailsham, the Lord Chancellor, said warily.
“And the Royal Establishment Bill,” Eden said with a sigh. “Broadly,” he said this to the more peripheral members of his Cabinet, the less important ministers who were not assiduously briefed on every turn or change. “Part One…”
“…perhaps, Prime Minister?”
“Yes, Attorney, thank you.”
“Part One,” Somervell said, sounding (probably unintentionally) like Eden, “will be the foundation part. Essentially it sets up the running of the monarchy. It repeals a great many older statutes, looks at the rules on accession or succession, royal marriages, has the new regency provisions, as well as the new abdication section. It also states the circumstances in which members of the Royal Family may sit in the Lords.”
“All that history,” Zetland muttered, “swept aside.”
“Part Two,” Somervell said, ignoring Zetland, “Establishment of the Royal Household, key roles, lists fully the Royal Estate, defines entitlement under the Civil List, sets out the requirements for military patronage and so on.”
“Part Three, the rights and duties of the Crown. It codifies, for the first time, the principle that the Prime Minister is appointed based upon his ability to command a majority in the House of Commons.”
“What,” Strathcona asked, “about the calling of elections.”
“We have not,” Somervell said in a prim way, “elected to remove this right under the Prime Minister’s residual prerogative powers.”
“Fixing terms and all that seems rather far-fetched,” Stanley said. “Can’t think of a Cabinet wanting that in. But we needed, in light of recent events…”
…“to protect the PM,” Margesson finished, snappily.
“What about prorogation?” That was Zetland, who had watched in horror from the Lords as Lloyd George had effectively closed down Parliament.
“Not in this Bill,” Somervell said, still primly, “this is not a Parliamentary Bill but a Royal one. We will focus, when we write the Bill…”
“…rightly,” Margesson said supportively.
“We will include Parliament only where it creates direct duties for the Crown. Prorogation is close, I yield, but I contend it is still the PM’s power.”
“Alright,” Eden looked over to Roger Keyes, the Minister without Portfolio, who had been given the task of ‘breathing fire’ into Eden’s legislative programme. “Roger, what do you think?”
Roger Keyes was a fiery Admiral without much of the gentilities of the others. “We need,” he said confidently, “to mention the Dominions.”
“But,” Halifax, still stung by the suggestion that the Cabinet lacked a plan for India (it didn’t), snapped, “we’re not legislating for the Dominions.”
“His Majesty could signal that he intends to tour his Dominions,” Inskip said rather huffily.
“Good idea,” Eden said quickly.
“And perhaps we could add the Scottish rural housing measures,” Keyes said, reading from his list. Walter Elliot, the rather quiet Scottish Secretary, nodded approval. “As well as the young persons’ health thing.”
“Meals,” Robert Hudson, the Minister for Health, corrected. “All those in instruction get meals.”
“Labour can’t pull that one apart,” Margesson added.
“Er, that’s it, Prime Minister,” Keyes said as he reorganised his folder.
“Good. If we’re happy, ah, content with the contents of the King’s Speech, we have time to move on. Other business, Foreign Secretary, I believe that you had a point.”
“Yes,” Kingsley Wood said with a sense of urgency. “Ribbentrop visited me yesterday to make a formal demand from the German Reich to His Majesty’s Government for the return of Germany’s colonies.”
If the Cabinet had been reasonably cordial so far, the atmosphere now changed to one of angry incredulity. About five of the Cabinet members tried to talk at the same time. “Gentlemen,” Eden said calmly, “one at a time. Roger, I believe that you managed to make the first noise.” There was a friendly tone to Eden, one of gentle banter.
“Is Ribbentwerp kidding?”
“No, Roger, I believe that he is, ah, in deadly earnest.” Eden looked to the beleaguered Kingsley Wood. “There was chatter about this when I was Foreign Secretary, and I understand that Howard’s predecessor, Sam Hoare…”
“…Slippery Sam strikes again,” Stanley, who loathed Sir Samuel Hoare, quipped. Eden was astonished to see Halifax and Margesson nodding.
“Ah, yes, Hoare, appears to have held out hope, along with Channon at the Admiralty, that we might revisit the colonial elements of Versailles.”
Halifax looked concerned. “Foweign Secwetawy,” he murdered the word, “can we simply weturn the former German possessions?”
“Well, I’m not altogether certain that we can,” Kingsley Wood answered, sounding confused.
"The League,” Somervell understood, talking in a grave, doom-laden way. “As they are not merely British…”
“…or Froggie.”
“Yes thank you Chancellor,” Somervell conceded flatly, “or French colonies, but are mandated territories for which we exercise control in partnership with the League of Nations, we would need to confer with them.”
“Oh Christ,” Keyes mumbled.
“And Paris will hate this,” Lord Stanley, the First Lord of the Admiralty, muttered.
“Do we want this,” Womersley, confused, asked. “I mean, are we in favour of this?”
“Walter has a point,” Ormsby-Gore said seriously. “Is there any appetite for this in Britain?”
“It could,” Halifax offered, “pwesent a gesture, an incentive…”
“…a bargaining chip, My Lord,” Stanley asked semi-seriously.
“I wouldn’t phwase it like that, Chancellor, but yes. Could it be used to advantageously acquire something else.”
“Like what, though?”
"Well, Walter,” Halifax said with a slightly aloof air, “perhaps a tweaty.”
“Which,” Lord Stanley snapped, “could be broken the second they get their hands on the territories and the Kriegsmarine opens a new base on the Atlantic coast of Africa.”
“The Dominions,” Lord Stanhope, the Dominions Secretary, added, “would also need to be consulted.”
“The Australians, and South Africans,” Walter Elliot muttered, “have holdings of their own. I just cannot see South Africa handing over…”
“…you’re right there,” Womersley agreed.
“The Party is not united on this,” Dugdale, the Conservative Chief Whip, said simply. “There’s Neville, and his followers, and then the main body, and then, Winston and his rebels.”
“Who do not,” Halifax snapped, “have the whip.”
“Yes yes, but they are sort of Conservatives,” Keyes said jovially.
Eden could sense that this wasn’t going to progress. “The point is this. Edward is right, it could be a bargaining chip. But the attractions, ah, the benefits of anything that we gain would be outweighed by almost everything else. How could we square this, ah, gain the agreement to any plan, of the French, the Dominions, the League? Let alone the British press.”
“Pwime Minister,” Halifax persevered.
“I don’t disagree with your point, but I have limited political capital both here at home, with some challenges, ah, some large hurdles, to overcome. And abroad, we have six months of frankly rancid behaviour to overcome. Gentlemen, are we agreed, at least, on the principle? This is not something to which this Government will allocate any of its horsepower, ah, it’s attention?”
There was a pause. Both Stanleys, Keyes, Elliot, all of the military Secretaries of State, Womersley, Margesson and (after the most dramatic of pauses) Zetland all agreed. Halifax, Hailsham, Hudson, Inskip and Ormsby-Gore indicated that they disagreed. That left Kingsley Wood (seeming to abstain until he had a sense of Cabinet feeling), Wallace (the Colonial Secretary, who had been quiet today), Somervell, Ramsbotham, Lord Plymouth and Dugdale not indicating a view.
“The ayes have it,” Stanley quipped. “Well, nearly.”
“I think that until the Germans make a sensible proposal, ah, an indication of what they would want, and what they would, ah, offer in return, we can go no further forward.”
“I agwee,” Halifax said, quietly. “For now.”
====
GAME NOTES
So, two bits here, the new Government prepares its King’s Speech, and the Germans make, as they did OTL, their demand for the return of British colonies. Both of these events reveal the character, as well as the strengths (and weaknesses) of the Eden Cabinet.
The King’s Speech is fairly important these days (heaven knows why – to me it’s an utter frivolity) with live coverage of the ceremony and falderal; we covered the ceremony itself in earlier chapter. Constitutionally it is important; it’s an early test of a new government as it tries to outline its agenda. I speculate that Eden would also hold a budget shortly afterward. The speech, for the unfamiliar, does not go into detail: typically the King/Queen will say something like “My Government will introduce legislation to provide meals for children in education,” or “we will introduce measures for the recognition of The Butterfly Composer to these forums,” etc. That’s why the big items, the Public Order stuff, the Establishment Bill, the CDC (I think Eden would strike a slightly more centrist tone than Chamberlain) were discussed, but in limited detail; their time will come in the budget/debates. Of these, the CDC is OTL’s NDC (and only slightly modified), the Public Order Stuff is a much more robust package than similar OTL legislation (in 1936), and the Establishment Bill is of course the TL’s reaction to the chaotic events of this AAR.
Then Ze Germans. Did the Germans demand the return of their former colonies? They did, with as much grace (i.e., none) as Ribbentrop could muster. It was an interesting cul-de-sac for the British in the late ‘30s, always coming up as a cheap and easy way of buying Berlin off, but never really coalescing into a workable policy (for the reasons outlined above). I remain convinced that Ribbentrop would do the same in this TL (perhaps worse, actually), and we don’t, really, know what DLG promised to Berlin during their brief attempt at playing at government; I doubt that Churchill would have entertained anything, but God knows what DLG and Hoare could have said privately.
I’ve then tried to reflect some of the varying opinions, using what I know of the characters to have them vote (or, at this stage, indicate a view) as I think they would. Stanley (both of them actually) is a no-brainer, I think that Margesson (playing a sort of Tebbit role in this Cabinet) would ultimately think it mad, Zetland is a surprise but there is an OTL Cabinet minute of him eventually ruling any plan unworkable, Keyes (who is rather unsuited to the role of legislative ‘fixer’, but supported Eden’s earlier TL bid to be leader so is valued by him) is an obvious critic of the plan while the abstainers are more or less behaving as I think we would. Would Halifax, at this stage, advocate consideration of a colonial restoration? You betcha he would, although this should not be construed (yet) as what OTL would call appeasement; Halifax wants to explore the issue, he’s not formally advocating handing Namibia back (the South Africans would laugh off any suggestion of this) just yet. I think that Inskip (who I really struggle to like, he’s just dull and plodding) and Hailsham would back him.
Eden’s position was actually quite nuanced, and he has here done what he did as Foreign Secretary; never really say no, but throw up so many obstacles that the thing was utterly unworkable (it was, btw) and couldn’t move beyond a notion to anything detailed. Although he was said to be warmer to Germany than Italy (true to a point, but he was hardly pro-Berlin) he still didn’t, really believe that the British would actually gain anything from such an agreement so did very little to champion it. It’s easy to suggest that this is a victory for the anti-appeasers, but domestically Eden has to be careful. As Dugdale points out above, the idea was popular in certain elements of the political world in 1937 and the Conservative Party, even after the election, is a rather fragile coalition of competing views.
The worst being? Don't tell me, the Albert Hall. You're right, it's a carbuncle.
I may bring this out in a later update, but essentially a ton of both.
Absolutely, and this was my pet peeve with "Lord John Marbury" in the West Wing. I wanted to show a tired Eden saying something, well, slightly not right.
Hold that thought, and see below...
All in all that seems a fairy solid foundation on which to build a constitutional relationship. Leastways no immediate disasters!
Which, let's face, is probably the most important thing Britain needs right now. No disasters, especially not in India .... oh ....
You're right, after the chaos of 1936 two slightly nervy men doing their best is a good result for the UK.
India next update...
It is the obvious choice, and I think it shows the kind of dull logic of KGVI. Was Eden so astute? Possibly, although I think he would have taken any of the remaining brothers.
So. Hopefully the detail in this update provided some guidance, but I think a 'tidying up' (which is how it'll be sold to the aristocracy) of the Crown is definitely going to happen; there will be battlegrounds (I think regency, and some of the more dramatic trimming of Royal powers, could be an interesting debate) but KGVI has been told that this was a condition of Eden's Government. Whether all of the Cabinet (*cough* Halifax *cough*) will actually go along with it is an interesting point. Most MPs will have to go along with it, it was in Chamberlain's manifesto and was at the core of the recent election.
My question too.
Mainly answered in the notes. It seems this was a contemporaneous narrative reference rather than from the game. Though one can always ‘hope’ such madness may still arise in-game
And so it was. Here goes...
https://royalmusingsblogspotcom.blo...chnigg-supports-habsburg-restoration.html?m=1
I concede that this is hardly an accredited source, but it's an interesting weird moment, a rare example of the real world being crazier than those [SWEAR WORD] focus trees.
FWIW I'm not quite sure that the Austrians were all that serious about a restoration, but it is interesting to speculate on what if...
Never, my friend!
You're a dear sweet man, and a fine example of Dominion support to our imperial motherland.
And Britain under DLG, while not the sickest man, was the international equivalent of a drunk uncle at a wedding, careering around for reasons best left unknown.
So long as he doesn’t arrange an amphibious landing on the sixth circle of Hades - using Dominion troops - then ok.
And then resigning to lead his own Scottish battalion in the fifth circle.
I'm not sure that he'll be completely pliant, I suspect something will attract regal ire and cause a fight (and I agree that regencies will be of concern to the Royal Family) but, as you have said, KGVI wasn't a particularly interventionist monarch (even less than his father). He also knows that he owes anything that he retains to Chamberlain/Eden/Attlee.
Two updates' time for the preface, with a later update looking at the decisions.
Who would be his sidekick? DLG, on a donkey?
Definitely one more on the Establishment Bill, half an update on civil service appointments (i.e. "let's reform!") and one more with some outcomes. So far, but I've only sketched out to the July Summer Recess.
So yes, but...
Fleet Street has also been ravaged by the Abdication Crisis. Half the newspapers supported the King, who turned out to be a deceitful coward (never mind his PM) and the other half supported Chamberlain, who turned out to be a sort-of British Richard Nixon and employed crooks to bug absolutely everyone. I think that the British Press will be playing a very measured game, at least until Eden really unveils his plans.
I agree with much of this. An initial version of this AAR had Attlee prevail after a couple of botched Tory attempts to deal with DLG, but the Parliamentary arithmetic just doesn't work. That said, if there was another crisis, or say, WW2, reform of the Monarchy would be high on a Labour PM's list of tasks. And, as we will see, I am not convinced that the relatively moderate Attlee will survive for much longer having lost two elections (although '35 was arguably not his fault).
@TheButterflyComposer - our 'interesting' system came about as a direct consequence of our experience with your 'interesting' system.
I do think there will be some strong sentiment, especially from the Old Tories, to simply leave things as they are - but I do agree that, if you are going to reform, now is the time.
So...
No matter how Eden and KGVI dance around, with Attlee and Sinclair/DLG and others begging for attention, there are some essential constitutional pillars that will need to be addressed, revoked, amended, endorsed or else completely ignored:
1. The life of the King/Queen - so, accession, coronation, regency, abdication/removal, line of succession, how much money he/she gets, where he/she lives, who among his family gets any of the loot. Any meddling here could be contentious.
2. His/Her actual title and function. Not just for the UK, but for the Dominions (let's not talk about Emperor of India, it's migraine inducing). What are the Crown's express powers? Do we include CinC of the Armed Forces? What about bishops and the CofE? This hasn't really been discussed, but could be hilarious.
3. The Crown's Parliamentary role. So who chooses the PM? How is that legitimised (i.e. confidence of the House, General Election etc)? How are powers shared/exercised by both the PM and the Monarch? While KGVI is probably more sensitive to 1 and 2 above than this, there is still, in the UK system, a need, as @El Pip says, for someone to act as the ultimate backstop/guarantor that the country won't become a banana republic. This is where QE2 has, in my view, been utterly removed (by her own/her advisors' volition, it would appear) during her reign and where earlier monarchs (notably KEVII and KGV) were more interventionist. This could be a challenge for Eden, his hand is a strong one but he could overplay this given the breadth of Tory opinion.
That was an odd moment; I think that the Government (the PM and the odious Rees-Mogg) acted contemptibly, I rather wish that QE2 had at least queried WTF was going on (I accept that this is a minority view, and perhaps she did privately) and the Supreme Court decided to use this as a launchpad to become more like other countries' highest courts (*does not say the US, does not say the US*).
Yes I think you're right. Eden is fortunate that Somervell and Hailsham are old survivors from Baldwin's Cabinet and are both decent lawyers and politicians. Another rare trait (*cough* Raab, *cough*).
Thank you my friend, and I'm sorry that I stopped the chaos when I did. I do think that I stretched credulity enough, and that KEVIII would have ultimately had to back down (Wallis Simpson was key, in both TLs, to that decision).
I'm however glad that the 'newness' and inexperience of KGVI and Eden came across. Both are decent enough men, just in new roles at a challenging time.
And yet, the more your system changes the more it seems to resemble ours.
You are right about that; however as I age I find that I dislike one element of the UK system, FPTP, heartily. It was fine, to a point, with a limited franchise, but I think that it is increasingly unrepresentative. The case for the Defence, that it preserves a constituency link is an odd one; some MPs are crucified for not being of their constituency (Labour seem to make this a totemic issue, leading to good local people who are hopeless at national governance) while others get away with never really bothering (a criticism that has long been labelled at the vile, cheese-obsessed lunatic we're going to get as PM next week).
As for the law, the UK system has been in flux since the early 90s. The 'ever closer union' of the EC/EU led to an explosion of law, some good, some horrific, that fundamentally altered our way of life. Linked, but separate (ignore the right wing elements of the UK press, they're morons) was the growth of 'human rights' law and focus leading to the UK Human Rights Act of 1998. This was, and is, a big deal. At the same the profession (well, solicitors and commercial barristers - the criminal barristers still cling to a dying world) became very, very, American. I think that much of this stems from the 'big bang' of the financial world in the 80s as with big money came big law firms, many of them global, and this cross-pollination led to a much more American way of working. Even @El Pip's old foe, the very English judicial review, has suffered from both of these trends.
Given my rant above, I will be calm and say that I am not sure what the UK will do. We have an oddly divided nation atm, probably more so than at any point since 1985. Much of society is liberal, would love proportional representation and a more interventionist state, while others think that the 1945 model is broken, we need a much more buccaneering style, and FPTP works perfectly thank you.
That's exactly what happens when you are called to Bar in England and Wales.
Not really. The table upon which my call papers were signed was from the Golden Hind, allegedly.
Given the recent conduct and direction of the court, as well as the general sense that a system of politicised partisan judges is not really ideal in the British context (no matter how well it works for other nations
Honestly? I'm still not sure what we were trying to achieve with it, and I'm not sure that we'd recognise it even if it happened.
The Supreme Court seemed to me at the time, and still does, to be the wrong institution in the wrong country. Separation of powers is different in the UK to much of the rest of the world, their remit is much more limited than our American chums, and, well, it has been an eccentric little mess. Although I am a tortured centrist, I am utterly on the right of the political spectrum when it comes to the Supreme Court. It hasn't worked. My fear is that over time someone will tinker with the Judicial Appointments Committee, and somehow, somewhere, a bit of politicalising creeps in. That, for me, is game over - unless we go all the way and have an elected head of state?!
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