Rising to the occasion

In the life of a parliament, the appointment of new ministers should be a pretty grand occasion. You imagine it would involve gold stuff, maybe a sword or a monarch or something.

A Scottish Government minister should be a respected figure after all, responsible for running the country, or at least sticking the words ‘for excellence’ on the end of policy initiatives. 

Sadly though, the First Minister’s attempt to introduce her new cabinet was yet another reminder that while the chamber may be good at many things, standing on ceremony is not one of them.

Nicola Sturgeon did her best to strike the right tone as she ran through the new ministers she was ‘proposing’ – though given the SNP’s majority, it seemed a pretty safe bet the proposal would be accepted. 

Like a mafia don proposing to protect a shopkeeper, it was the political equivalent of an offer that can’t be refused.

Parliament, though, had obviously decided that the session was a chance to show off its collective wit.

Jackie Baillie – basically the chamber’s answer to Oscar Wilde – started off by congratulating Sturgeon on the cabinet’s 50-50 gender balance before attempting to tease the outgoing ministers.  
She said: “It is customary to pay tribute to the outgoing cabinet secretaries, and I will start with Mike Russell. I ask Angela Constance whether he has left his portrait, which took such a prominent position in his office, or whether it has been removed?”

This was a bit unfair, because mentioning the fact that Mike Russell happens to have a giant portrait of himself in his office in that context makes him seem self-obsessed. It is in fact not a portrait, but rather a front cover of Holyrood, which clearly explains why Russell values it so much.

It would of course be understandable if Baillie’s move was driven by jealousy, given she has not (yet) featured on our illustrious cover. 

In fact, one former First Minister was apparently driven to near breakdown at his absence from the front page – though to be fair, his confusion may have been down to the somewhat questionable decision to replace his picture with a cartoon image of a pole dancer. 

But that is not the point. Who can honestly say that, given the chance, they would turn down a giant picture of Mike Russell? Anyway, all the cabinet secretaries probably have one in their office – it’s likely just standard practice aimed at lifting morale.

On the other hand, could you concentrate on your job with it hanging over you? 

Who can honestly say that, given the chance, they would turn down a giant picture of Mike Russell?

You can see why Constance would be bothered by having the man’s image shoved in her face, day after day, watching his brilliant education reforms bearing fruit while she slaves away, with basically no job left to do (though sadly the Holyrood cover was pre-beard). No amount of weird shoes would help distract you from ‘A Picture of Mike Russell’ – the Dorian Gray of politics – gazing down on you, questioning you like some wiser, kindlier version of Jeremy Paxman. 

Constance could only shake her head. 

It was a clever move from Baillie, aiming to plunge Constance into a state of confusion within minutes of taking the job. That or she just wanted the picture for herself.

Jackson Carlaw was up next, continuing the aim of taunting those who had missed out on the front bench.

“Mr Brown and Ms Constance stood in the deputy leadership election and reaped the rewards. Therefore, Mr Brown can look Mr Mackay and Mr Yousaf in the face and say, ‘Who dares wins, boys.’ After all, those two had their famous canteen, Granita-like pact, whereby they thought that they would sit this election out in the expectation that the rewards would be theirs. My advice to them is: ‘Start plotting now, boys; it is only 18 months till your next chance comes around.’”

Carlaw’s speech was a wide-ranging one, moving from the Looney Tunes to Stalin to Beyoncé, and after a few minutes the earnest observer may have begun to wonder what the point of the session actually was.

Fortunately, he moved to clear it up.

“The last time I made such a speech, the First Minister – the then Deputy First Minister – was kind enough to say that I had made no substantive points whatever, which I freely admit is my remit today.” 

Patrick Harvie had the near impossible job of following this.  

He said: “I am very grateful that he decided to leave me out of the end of his speech. Oscar Wilde said that the only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about, but I think that that was the exception to the rule.”

The Green co-convener then worked through the new appointments, singling out Marco Biagi, “He has earned far more respect than I have from the radical vegan wing of my party.”

Admitedly, the radical vegan wing of the Greens is not exactly the Bilderberg club in terms of influence but at least Biagi has a support base. And with the Greens already taking on John Finnie as a member, promoting Biagi to minister may have staved off a possible defection. 

Sturgeon, though, was soon back on her feet and doing her best to drag the members back to the mood befitting a triumph of democracy.

Thanking them for their contributions, she said: “In all seriousness, I had not appreciated how difficult it is to pick a government.” 

She probably hadn’t realised how difficult it would be to announce one either. 

At least Wilde would have been impressed.