THE Scottish government’s Health Secretary Michael Matheson is a worried man. He’s not worrying about the horrendous waiting times in the NHS, or the chronic staffing shortages, or the crisis in care. He’s worried about his wifi bill.
 
This might seem like an odd set of priorities but while things are bad in the NHS in Scotland, on most — not all but most — indicators. Things here are just that wee bit better than in England. Which is the only thing that matters. As long as a finger can be pointed south it really doesn’t matter how bad things are here.
 
Matheson’s wifi bill is problematic for him, not just because it is £11,000, or that it was run up in a week on a family holiday abroad.
 
It is more that the said bill was run up on a parliamentary computer. A computer that was, Matheson maintained for as long as he possibly could, used only for parliamentary business. His only error, he claimed, was not changing the SIM card on the device before going abroad.
 
Arguably there is a scandal here in network operator EE being allowed to apply roaming charges that allowed such a bill to be run up — £7,300 of it in a single day. This, though, doesn’t touch on the integrity of the Health Secretary so is being ignored by everyone.
 
As for him. Though the collapse in his position began when the Parliament revealed how much data it had paid for, more than six gigabytes in a week, with a single day, January 2, being three gigabytes. After this revelation, few were prepared to accept the idea that this usage was racked on parliamentary business.

Much fun was had by people calculating that this would involve writing and sending an email every 10 seconds for 24 hours or almost the entirety of the day spent on video calls to constituents. On the January 2. A day when all of Scotland is on holiday and much of it still hungover.
 
The previously stoutly denied but obvious truth was the laptop had been used for streaming data. Specifically, the Health Secretary admitted, to watching the Celtic v Rangers game. Matheson said he didn’t watch the game himself, rather it was his children who were entranced by the Old Firm clash.

The Health Secretary is claiming to support Partick Thistle. This might be the case, but he could just be saying this to drum up public sympathy. No one seems to have spotted the beleaguered Health Secretary at Firhill — though given how much of the average game Thistle fans spend with their head in their hands this might not be much of an indicator.
 
The confession came in a lachrymose “personal statement” to Parliament where he maintained (not terribly plausibly) that he had been unaware of any non-parliamentary usage until very recently. Then on finding out, subsequent lies were told to protect his family from scrutiny. The opposite of course is happening — it is Matheson’s children who are being used to protect the father. Having been completely found out he has agreed to refund the taxpayer the cost of the bill.
 
As has been the case with seemingly every political scandal since Nixon, it is the cover-up rather than the initial offence which causes the problem. Had Matheson “fessed up” immediately the episode would have been a bit embarrassing but little more.
 
Instead, following a long series of unconvincing denials and now admitted deliberate untruths he is under investigation by parliamentary authorities. The prospect of a no-confidence motion can be glimpsed on his career’s darkening horizon.
 
He can claim in his defence that he has not misled parliament. If you define parliament as the debating chamber and leave out the Finance department. This defence is being undermined considerably by misleading everyone else in a bid to stop the matter from coming to Parliament.
 
It’s more than just a problem for Matheson. The First Minister has backed Matheson at each stage of the process. Opponents unsurprisingly use this to call his judgement into question. More concerning for him perhaps, is the idea that the Health Secretary will have to go. Leaving aside that a list of confidence-inspiring replacements doesn’t trip off the tongue, it adds to a sense of lack of control over events that has dogged Yousaf’s tenure.
 
There is also an issue for the SNP’s Green coalition partners. Should a vote on Matheson’s future transpire they will be obligated to demonstrate their confidence in him.

They will be asked not to lay down their life for their friends — merely their political credibility for Michael Matheson’s wifi bill. They will doubtless argue that this is all a distraction and that Matheson should be allowed to get on with the job. This points to what might well be the biggest scandal of all in this shoddy affair.
 
What does it tell us about Scottish politics that it isn’t the failings in the NHS that are ruining the reputation of the Health Secretary? What does it say about the paucity of the alternatives offered by his rivals that they are finding it easier to undermine him with stats about data usage than waiting times?

There are any number of answers to those questions — but accuracy demands they all include the phrase “we are being let down.”