Scotland

PG Wodehouse, who was only the twentieth century’s greatest English-language novelist, once remarked that there existed just two ways to write: “One is mine, making a sort of musical comedy without music and ignoring real life altogether; the other is going right deep down into life and not caring a damn.” I feel something similar about theatre. I can – and do – enjoy a comedy or farce and, blimey, there’s always room for laughter in this – or any other – world. But, in general, I prefer my theatre punishing and draining and liable to leave you exhausted and feeling like the marrow’s been sucked from your bones. I don’t go to

Way back in the olden days, Scottish Labour won the 1999 elections to the Scottish parliament, at least in part, on the back of the slogan Divorce is an Expensive Business. (The SNP’s promise to raise income tax – the naffly named ‘Penny for Scotland’ – helped too. The Nationalists have never since risked making an overt case for higher taxes.) Anyway, these costs run both ways. That’s made clear by new polling from England in which the extent of the oft-threatened, never-yet-delivered, English backlash to devolution is revealed. It makes depressing reading for Unionists. True, only 19% of those surveyed think the UK would be better off without the troublesome, whining, Jocks. Or,

If, like me, you missed Andrew Neil’s BBC programme exploring What the Hell Happens to the United Kingdom if Scotland Votes for Independence Next Month you might be interested to know that it remains available on the BBC iPlayer here. Prudently, dear reader, I liked it. It’s a film best viewed as a companion piece to James Forsyth’s Spectator cover story published last month. A call to arms to England – and Westminster in particular – to ponder the consequences and implications of Scottish independence. There is little sign that much thought has been devoted to these issues. Indeed, not only has the Ministry of Defence apparently failed to make contingency plans for the future,

Forget Alistair Darling’s debate victory. Forget the lack of Salmond’s currency ‘Plan B’. Forget the tonne of Scottish ink that savaged Salmond in print this morning (see Alex Massie in today’s Spectator for the best example). No, historians will pin-point today as the moment that Kriss Akabusi saved the union. Awooga, awooga. It has become custom in any public debate these days to draw up a tiresome list of public figures who back one’s cause. ‘Stay Together’, which launched today, and includes celebrities who do not even have a vote in Scotland’s future, is classic of the genre. Akabusi is joined by the likes of Helena Bonham Carter, Bryan Ferry,

Many people, I’m sure, will already be calling the first TV debate in Alistair Darling’s favour. That is a fair point to make but it was not quite as straightforward as that. I think a truer reflection would be this: Darling won on substance but lost on style, while Alex Salmond won on style but lost on substance. That may seem a bit pedantic, but it matters. First, the question of style: Salmond was – as we knew he would be – calm, composed and articulate. Darling was – as many in his camp feared he would be – anxious, shouty and irritable. The former Chancellor looked nervous. He had

Nicola Sturgeon, the SNP deputy leader, is busy claiming that post the Glasgow games the momentum will be with the Yes side in the referendum. But this claim is contradicted by the Survation poll in today’s Mail on Sunday which shows support for Yes marginally down on last month. The Yes campaign’s last best chance to gain the ‘big mo’ that it needs comes in Tuesday night’s debate between Alex Salmond and Alistair Darling. Alex has written about why he doesn’t think this debate will be a game changer, but with a million Scots expected to tune in, Salmond isn’t going to have a better opportunity to try and turn

There are many ways to commission fat-headed political analysis but, in my experience, by far the easiest is to ask a novelist his (or her) opinion on the great issues of the day. Better still, ask several. That way you can be sure you’ll get something even the student version of the Socialist Worker might think twice before publishing. There are, of course, exceptions. Some of them quite close to home, in my view. Nevertheless (as Miss Spark so often said) the general rule applies: asking writers for their views on politics is no more useful or sensible than asking gravediggers or sheep shearers their opinion. It may be interesting;

The future of Britain is at stake, but you wouldn’t know it from how ITV is behaving. On Tuesday, STV will broadcast a live debate between Alex Salmond and the leader of the No campaign, Alistair Darling. This promises to be one of the pivotal moments in the referendum campaign.  But, depressingly, the only way anyone outside of Scotland will be able to watch it is on the internet via STV Player. The failure to put it on ITV across the whole of the UK reflects the failure to understand that, while only the residents of Scotland may have vote in the independence referendum, the result will affect all of

Because the Commonwealth Games are a thing and because newspapers need to fill their pages every day it is natural, even unavoidable, that they have in recent days been stuffed with pundits pontificating on the political significance of the games. Being a mere and humble freelance hack I wrote one such piece for the Daily Mail earlier this week even though I also stand by my suspicion that the political implications of these games are much too easily and keenly exaggerated. But that does not mean all such commentary is worthless or lacking interest. Here, for instance, is Lesley Riddoch writing in today’s edition of the Scotsman: [A] subtle and powerful political point

If Scotland goes independent in September, who knows what patriotism will feel like. This may be a last chance to savour some of this magazine’s most passionate expressions of British pride. In 1828, this article laid out the difference between a ‘genuine Briton’ and a Liberal. ‘The disposition of a genuine Briton is to make up his mind upon what he ought to do, and having once determined that, to adhere to his resolution with a fixedness of purpose, which more frequently proceeds to the length of obstinacy, than deviates into vacillation and uncertainty. Now this is a character quite opposite to that of the Liberals, and much to be

Dominic Grieve was a worthy attorney-general whose career was helped by this magazine: nine years ago, he was named Spectator Parliamentarian of the Year, beneath the nose of David Cameron, then nearing the end of his successful campaign for the Conservative leadership. But Grieve’s remarks this week, in which he suggested that the Prime Minister would be seen to be as bad as Putin if he pursues proposals to give Parliament ultimate authority over laws in this country, underline why his position as a member of the government had become untenable. One of the few redeeming features of David Cameron’s reshuffle is that it added a certain clarity to our