Roaming Aimlessly: The scandal of Michael Matheson's iPad is eroding Humza Yousaf's authority

Back in 2016, I was covering home affairs for a national newspaper when I visited Cables Wynd House, the Brutalist boomerang known by Leith natives as the Banana Flats. Home to Simon ‘Sick Boy’ Williamson in Irvine Welsh’s 1993 novel Trainspotting, the building had a well-worn reputation for drugs and anti-social behaviour, but was at that time enjoying a fall in crime along with the rest of north Edinburgh. 

Keen to talk about something other than the crises engulfing Police Scotland, Chief Constable Phil Gormley was joined on the ground by justice secretary Michael Matheson. The Scottish Government minister was confident and relaxed as he spoke to journalists and listened politely to the concerns of local residents. While the good times didn’t last long for Gormley – he resigned amid allegations of bullying – Matheson remained in post until 2018, when he was replaced by an up-and-coming star of the SNP, Humza Yousaf. 

Until earlier this month and the scandal which threatens to if not end, then irreparably damage his political career, this was how many in politics and the media regarded Michael Matheson: the steadying influence, the safe pair of hands, the unshowy but solid government minister who quietly got on with the job. All that is in tatters now following a bizarre row over a parliament-issue iPad and an £11,000 bill. 

Matheson has not only managed to torpedo his own career but has also created a major headache for the man who replaced him as justice secretary. There have been so many points over the past few weeks where Yousaf could have shown leadership and sacked the minister whose data bill has become a major distraction for a government still roaming aimlessly from crisis to crisis. But at the time of writing, the first minister has opted to stand by his health secretary, perhaps aware – having held the post himself recently – that no one else wants the job.

To fully understand this most unusual parliamentary scandal, we have to go back to last Christmas when Matheson was holidaying with his family in Morocco. Between 28 December and 3 January, he ran up a bill of more than £10,900 in data roaming charges, apparently telling the Holyrood authorities that he did so in the course of his parliamentary business. He agreed to pay £3,000 from his taxpayer-funded office while the parliament said it would pick up the rest of the tab. 

The health secretary perhaps thought that was the end of the matter, but fast forward to earlier this month and the story hit the front pages after the publication of MSPs’ expenses. After an uncomfortable 48 hours, the member for Falkirk West said he had “reflected long and hard” and decided to pay back all the money. Again, Matheson might have hoped a line had been drawn. He was wrong.

It was with the publication of the roaming charges under Freedom of Information legislation that the health secretary’s version of events began to unravel. The itemised bill showed Matheson’s iPad had used up more than 3GB of data in one day alone at a cost of more than £7,000. The day in question happened to be 2 January when Rangers and Celtic drew 2-2 in the Scottish Premiership.

The following day, ashen faced and tearful, Matheson told MSPs that contrary to his previous version of events, the iPad had in fact been used by his sons to watch football, something he had only discovered the previous week. Even if we are to accept that version of events, it confirmed the MSP had lied to journalists earlier in the week when he said there had been no personal use of the device. 

“As a parent, I wanted to protect my family from being part of the political and media scrutiny with this – something I believe any parent would want to do,” he told MSPs as he fought back tears. 

Matheson, an experienced and long-serving member of the Scottish Parliament, said he had referred himself to Holyrood’s corporate body for investigation. But in a further twist, it later emerged that there was no mechanism for him to do so. 

Matheson with former Chief Constable Phil Gormley | Alamy

While there have been those who have sought to downplay this whole sorry episode, to minimise its importance, it nonetheless raises important questions not just about the conduct of our politicians but also the actions of the Scottish Parliament, which appears to have initially ignored its own policy of only paying excess data charges up to the cost of £200. 

The health secretary might still resign as a result of this affair but at the time of writing, it looks unlikely. It appears that falling on one’s sword has becoming an increasingly rare phenomenon in Scottish politics for all but the most egregious of transgressions. In the early days of the Scottish Parliament, First Minister Henry McLeish resigned after subletting his constituency office during his time as an MP at Westminster. In 2008, Scottish Labour leader Wendy Alexander quit after less than a year in the job following a row over donations to her leadership campaign. And in 2010, transport secretary Stewart Stevenson carried the can after heavy snow led to transport chaos that saw motorists trapped in their cars overnight on the M8.

But in recent times ministerial resignations have become as rare as hen’s teeth. Not including the resignation of former First Minister Nicola Sturgeon, only Derek Mackay (the former finance secretary who messaged a teenage boy on social media) and former children’s minister Mark McDonald actually quit while in the eye of a scandal. Others have gone for personal reasons while former drugs minister Joe FitzPatrick euphemistically “agreed” to resign after presiding over a public health catastrophe. 

It’s expected that Matheson will face a vote of confidence in the parliament this week, one the government will easily win thanks to its cooperation agreement with the Scottish Greens. It’s less than six months since the last such vote, during which former SNP minister Fergus Ewing joined with the opposition in attempting to oust circular economy minister Lorna Slater over her handling of the deposit return scheme (DRS). Then, as now, the minister had the support of Yousaf, and the threat was easily seen off. 

The Tories have understandably been keen to drag the story out for as long as possible, inflicting maximum damage on both Matheson and Yousaf in the process. That’s politics, and the suggestion made by SNP president Mike Russell in a column in The National that it’s somehow part of a plan to “dismantle Scottish democracy” is risible. That said, what’s to be gained from another unwinnable vote of no confidence? If anything, a positive result for the government would help draw a line under the matter, something it has so far failed to achieve. 

Perhaps the bigger issue at stake is the leadership of the first minister. Yousaf has given Matheson his full backing, describing the health secretary as a “man of honesty and integrity”. But after initially describing the £11,000 bill as a “legitimate parliamentary expense” which did not have to be paid back, the first minister was later forced to admit that his minister “should have handled the situation better”. 

In contrast to his leadership on the situation in Gaza where the first minister has been sure-footed and eloquent, winning international acclaim in the process, on this he has proved to be weak and indecisive, giving Matheson the benefit of the doubt and then continuing to back him when it became clear his trust had been misplaced. 

Yousaf is, of course, facing his own charge of misleading parliament, with both Labour and the Tories keen to apply pressure over the government’s handling of WhatsApp messages and when they were first asked for them by the UK Covid Inquiry. Making an example of Matheson for reasons of probity would undoubtedly make life more difficult for him in the long run, should it be proved beyond doubt that he and Deputy First Minister Shona Robison misled MSPs over details requested by the inquiry. 

Another worry for the first minister is who he would promote to the job of health secretary in the event of Matheson’s departure. With experience in short supply in the Cabinet, the current favourite for the job is justice secretary Angela Constance, but Yousaf knows just how demanding the position is, having held it immediately before becoming first minister. As the NHS prepares for another difficult winter, the optics of replacing the health secretary at this late stage would not be good. 

Last week, shortly before First Minister’s Questions, the Scottish Parliament Corporate Body, the cross-party group which is concerned with the running of the parliament, confirmed it would investigate Matheson after previously saying there was no mechanism for him to refer himself. If he is found to have breached the rules, Matheson could face the loss of expenses privileges. The minister may also yet be investigated by Holyrood’s standards committee which has the power to mete out even harsher punishments.

Whatever comes of this story, there are serious questions not only for the government but for the parliament itself. Officials were apparently happy to accept Matheson’s frankly not credible explanation that the fees were run up in the course of parliamentary business while on holiday in North Africa. That was despite the health secretary ignoring requests to switch a SIM card to a new provider which would have meant any fees incurred would have been significantly reduced. There is also the need for an explanation as to why the parliament was willing to ignore its own policy to only cover unexpected roaming charges up to the value of £200. 

For Matheson, a politician who survived the controversies buffeting Police Scotland during his time as justice secretary and whose career continued to look on the up despite the challenges facing the health service, this scandal has been hugely damaging. 

It remains baffling how such an experienced politician can be brought low by something he could have resolved months ago. Whether through arrogance or incompetence, he has no one to blame but himself.