Playing by House rules - what 'Inside the Commons' taught us about Westminster

“MPs like to call it Hogwarts,” viewers of BBC political fly-on-the-wall documentary Inside the Commons were told. Watching the show, one can’t help but conclude the magic probably only exists in their head.

Of course just like the fictional school for Wizards, the palace at Westminster is an imposing and rather camp building, built by the Victorians as a garish homage to Gothic architecture. With a third of MPs having attended independent schools, no wonder they’re reminded of their formative years. But if J K Rowling appeared to make up the rules of Quiddich as she went along, the rules of the political game at Westminster have been around for centuries. It paints a stark contrast to the concrete Scottish Parliament, peppered with think-pods and populated by public visitors.

What did Michael Cockerell’s programme teach us about the Commons? It showed Labour backbencher Sarah Champion having to struggle with whispering bullies, obstructive bureaucracy and petty party politics in an attempt to enact what seemed a clearly sensible and non-partisan piece of child protection. It showed backbenchers trying for weeks to get a chance to ask a question at Prime Minister’s Questions, only to be given a small script to recite parrot-like. Of course, we also learned MPs might be quite partial to a script. “Politicians are all budding thespians,” Deputy Speaker Lindsay Hoyle told us. Up and down the country amateur dramatic societies will have been offended – interrupting your wordless bellowing to drone “long-term economic plan” is a far cry from Gilbert and Sullivan.

Most of all, the programme showed a building in such a bad state of repair its days are surely numbered. If this really is a 'zombie parliament', its hard to imagine it getting up again. Meanwhile its oblivious denizens are so caught up in traditions from the century before last – parading up and down, taking snuff, territorial tea-room tribalism – it must be quite a shock to return to the 21^st century at the end of the day. Far better to sit in the comfort of the warm green benches inarticulately braying at each other until such a time as you can send a piece of parchment signed off in ancient Norman French and wrapped in ribbon to be marched ceremoniously and deferentially along the corridor to the Lords. We only got a glimpse of the red benches. I hope they’re next.