Why I wouldn't become an MP

PERSONAL COLUMN

PETER J. SMITII

Dr Smith is a young English scientist now working in the United States.

From time to time, well-wishers, and others of more questionable motive, have put to me the following proposition, though not always in quite so polite a form:

'Many of the decisions facing the govern- ment of a highly-industrialised country such as Britain require a degree of scientific judgment which is all too plainly absent. Parliament is obviously short of people able to weigh the scientific pros and cons of issues demanding such considerations; and however competent non-scientific MPS may be in making social value judgments, scientific evaluation is often a necessary prerequisite for these. You are a scientist; you are interested in politics. Why not stand for Parliament?'

To this vaguely amusing suggestion I have a set of stock replies ranging from 'What-do- you-take-me-for?' (or somewhat ruder) to a more cogent assessment of why it would be suicide for me career-wise. The one I actually advance in any given case depends on the spirit in which the question was originally posed: but the message is invariably the same—I wouldn't consider it for half a minute.

As one who knows what Parliament is, cherishes the ideals for which it stands, studies many of the decisions it takes, but has no first-hand knowledge of its machinery, I would like to put forward a few reasons for what may seem an irresponsible attitude to take. After all, the widespread cynicism and even contempt towards the role of Parliament at this time and the equally obvious fact of the poor quality of government in Britain suggest that those who eulogise the present system argue from a position of weakness.

Contempt is, of course, the key word here. We don't all share the complete cynicism to- wards established institutions exhibited by the hippie kingdom; but neither do we all suppose the Whitehall and Westminster scenes to be whiter than white. There are various degrees of contempt for government throughout the whole of British society; but it is contempt nevertheless, and politicians ignore it at their peril. Nor is this a new phenomenon, as we are continually being reminded; though it is certainly particularly strong now. And with good reason. The contempt in which the public holds politicians is merely the reflection of the utter contempt in which politicians hold the public, and the thinking public in particular. It is hardly necessary to give examples—they range from the decision to site London's third airport at Stansted (revoked only after years of pressure) to that making the pound rather than ten shillings the standard for a decimal currency. In each case the procedure was so similar that it has become monotonous. The Government first announces a decision which, because of insufficient debate in public, appears quite arbitrary. The press, the articulate public

and a majority of lkIPS then indicate opposition. So what happens? A debate takes place in

Parliament, Nos are whipped to vote along party lines, and the Bill is passed even though a majority is supposedly against it. The good of the country is subjugated to the good of the party. Issues which have no relevance whatso- ever to party politics, as opposed to those, such as nationalisation, which do, are turned into votes of confidence. The result is a mockery—and is seen by those outside Par- liament to be such. Those who condescendingly suppose that we have what Henry Fairlie calls an 'aesthetic prejudice against the necessary

compromises of political life' are right. We have. That is to say that although we accept

party ties in matters of principle, we fail to understand what such ties have to do with the details of decimal currency. I, for one, cannot see myself participating in such nonsense.'

Two further examples are worth recalling, if only because they concern the universities with which which I am more familiar. Towards the end of 1966 the Committee of Public Accounts (CPA) took evidence in order, supposedly, to decide whether or not the accounts of the universities and the University Grants Com- mittee should be subject to the inspection of the Comptroller and Auditor General. Although the eminent authorities interviewed were solid almost to a man in their opposition to the pro- posal, inspection of the relevant accounts was

nevetheless recommended by the CPA and accepted by the Government. My first thought

an reading the report was to suppose that the

Stationery Office had erroneously bound to- gether the recommendations of the CPA with

the hearings of a completely different investi-

gation. Alas, this was not the case. It cost, we are told £2,296 7s 4d to prepare, print and publish a report detailing evidence which, it then turned out, had no connection whatsoever with the final decision. What exactly was the point of the inquiry?

The second example concerns last year's Government announcement of an increase in university fees for overseas students. There was, of course, no nonsense about consulting the universities first. After all, it's not really any of their business, is it? Consultation is prescribed only for naughty employers who might wish to improve efficiency and idly sup- pose it is not necessary to go on their knees to the unions. The widespread opposition to the discriminatory fee increase, both inside and outside the universities, is still too fresh in the mind to require detailing here. Suffice it to note that the Government arrogantly ignored an almost unanimous opposition.

Few would deny, I think, that the Govern- ment has an obligation to provide leadership, and none would agree that it should always bow to popular demand. I have little doubt that the majority of people would, if asked, express themselves against taxes. But taxes are unfortunately necessary. In no sense, however, was it necessary to site the new airport at Stansted, introduce a decimal currency based on the present pound, inspect university accounts, or raise fees for overseas students. In each case there were (and are) reasonable alternative policies available. I am not con- cerned here with whether the respective deci- sions were right or wrong. What I find nauseat- ing is the utter contempt for majority divergent views and Government unwillingness to com- promise in the face of them. If this is the integrity of government, I want no part in it.

The problem is how we can enhance the calibre of political decision, and of scientific political decision in particular, without destroying the democratic process. There is a way. though I suspect it will find little support. The present size of Parliament is far larger than is necessary. Most other industrialised countries manage their affairs more successfully than we do with a far smaller proportion of their populations sitting in parlia- ment. I would suggest first, therefore, that the

number of elected Mrs be cut to, say. 200-250. In addition we could then have, say 100-150 appointed members.

The backgrounds of the members to be appointed would be decided through consulta- tion between the parties. Thus if it were felt, for example, that the number of scientists and technologists among the elected members was insufficient for proper consideration of the large number of scientific decisions to be taken, it could be increased through appointed mem- bers. These might be non-partisan: but if this is too much to hope for, they could be chosen according to their nominal party allegiances.

A system containing appointees would• not violate democratic principles since the ap- pointed members would not have security of tenure beyond the next general election, after which time the party proportions would have changed. There would, in any case, always be a majority of elected members. The system may be open to abuse, though I am sure suit- able safeguards could be devised. One such would certainly be to bar the appointment of persons who had failed in the elective process. Nor is this proposal as radical as it might at first appear, since we already possess a hidden army of 'advisers' to the Government most of whom would, under the new scheme, be included among the appointees.

The system would be a compromise. It would still possess the advantages of an elected assembly but would avoid many of the prob- lems associated with a completely elected body. The appointed members would not necessarily be geniuses, so that those who cherish the ideal of the unexceptional MP would not need to worry. Nor need the resultant assembly be any less representative of 'all walks of life.' All I would ask is that it contain enough members with backgrounds reflecting the nature of the decisions to be taken. I am, of course, thinking primarily of increasing the scientific expertise of Parliament, though what I have said may well apply to other disciplines as well.

I am well aware that as a political outsider I am putting my head into the lion's jaw. I am even prepared to be labelled an arrogant pseudo-intellectual academic. But the fact re- mains that the standard of scientific decision- making in government is deplorable. In view of the degree to which our society is science- based, the situation is nothing less than disastrous.

The onus is on those who favour the present system to show that our bad government is the best that can be devised. Until some attempt is made at reform from within, many able people will continue to hold the whole system in contempt and refuse to participate in its improvement. The present state of affairs is not funny, as many recent defenders of the faith seem to think. It is sick.