10 seconds at PMQs feels like forever
Stop waiting for silence — and other life lessons from Betty Boothroyd
I don’t think this is going to come as a galloping shock to anyone here, but over the weekend I watched a YouTube video entitled: ‘Baroness Betty Boothroyd’s best moments’. Friends, it wasn’t even the first time I’d seen it. To be clear, I partook in other, more normie activities over the Easter weekend: dining with friends, walking the dog, avoiding the news. But this was me at my most authentic self.
I had my reasons for seeking out that clip, and it wasn’t simply so I could shoehorn in the time when Boothroyd winked at me during a parliamentary reception. Rather, it was a particular back-and-forth between the Speaker and Simon Hughes, then the Lib Dem MP for Southwark and Bermondsey. If you watch the video, you’ll see that Hughes was being pretty roundly heckled. And this happened a lot.
Partly because, as a member of a minor party, there were simply lots of people predisposed to bray and barrack him. Partly because he often spoke at length, with an earnest and at times moralising style. And partly because, on Labour benches at least, his reputation remained sullied by memories of the 1983 by-election, in which he benefitted from homophobic attacks directed at Labour candidate Peter Tatchell.
Whatever the reason, Hughes raised hackles. Standing up at Prime Minister’s Questions, sporting one of those 1990s suit-shirt-tie colour combinations that defy description, Hughes begins speaking — only to pause in response to a wall of noise.
[As an aside, the gap between watching PMQs from the Commons chamber and on television is so wide as to represent a constitutional crisis. On TV, microphones pick up a speaker’s voice pretty clearly. But in the bear pit itself, one can scarcely hear oneself think.]
Anyway, Hughes waits. For about 10 seconds — a lifetime during these sorts of occasions. By which time Boothroyd, hardly averse to telling MPs off for this sort of thing, has run out of patience. She cries:
Order. This is so time-consuming. Come on, Mr. Hughes: spit it out.
Hughes stands up once again, hands clasped behind his back, party leader Paddy Ashdown looking on, but makes little progress. Another 15 seconds elapse. It is agony1. Boothroyd matter-of-factly declares:
Order. There is no point in waiting for silence: the hon. Gentleman will not get silence. Produce your voice, Mr. Hughes.
Hughes’ question is in fact a good one. You see, Boris Johnson is not the only prime minister in recent times [editor’s note: 1997 is still recent, right?] to prorogue parliament for less than pristine reasons. John Major called the general election for 1 May that year, but determined that parliament should be dissolved on 8 April and MPs sent away before publication of a report by the Commissioner for Standards on cash for questions23.
Really, it was what Boothroyd said, a potentially throwaway line that in many ways speaks to the place in which I reside and where — I suspect — some of you may too. Perhaps it is the cumulative and seemingly accelerating impact of exogenous shocks, from the global financial crisis to Brexit, Covid, Russia and Trump. Perhaps it is the changed reality of Jewish life around the globe since October 7, 2023. Or perhaps it is just the seemingly endless deluge of personal responsibilities — children, parents, work — take your pick.
It is tempting to think that you can wait it out: for the news to slow down, the hatred to dial back, the school run to come to a sudden stop. But the reality is that may never happen. The wall of noise may be unfair, the double standards too ubiquitous to name. But it just… is. There is no point in waiting for silence — you will not get it.
You can watch the whole thing here. Bizarrely, while it can be challenging to watch old PMQ sessions, US network C-SPAN makes it incredibly easy.
This is in no way relevant to today’s post. I just thought it was interesting.
Major actually had a pretty good gag for an answer: “One of the reasons for making the announcement on Monday and arranging for Parliament to be prorogued on Friday was to give the hon. Gentleman time to finish his question.”
No,actually, given the cacophony, a better tactic would have been for Hughes to shout his q at the top of his voice. Then for BB to tick HIM off, sharply. Pure irony….
People remember Betty as “no nonsense”, but it seems on this occasion, Mr Hughes got the rough edge of her tongue.
But your dissolution date point about the 8th April one for a 1st May election is puzzling. It seems eminently reasonable to me - so I don’t get the point. When should JM have dissolved Parliament, the day before the election? (Unless your point is that that date specifically was quite deliberately chosen to avoid debate about some report. So that if JM had dissolved, say, on 12th April, there would be no issue. Although that doesn’t leave much time for the “traditional” three week election campaign.)
If I were an MP and witnessed the farce that PMQs has descended to (viz: not answering questions, or even pretending to, and answering with a question), I would raise a point of order and, hopefully in concert with at least one other like-minded member, then walk out.