THERE does seem to be an English exceptionalism that allows commentators to sing the praises of our democratic structures while failing to see its flaws that would be considered unacceptable if they were present in another country.
I say “English” as I think the populations of the other nations in the UK tend to have a less rosy view.
Imagine the critical comments that would rightly be made of a wealthy influential country that had an unelected second legislative chamber with some members there on a hereditary basis; that had reserved places for members of the established religion; that is one of the largest legislative bodies in the world; that doesn’t have fair representation from the nation’s regions; that has less than 30 per cent women members and favours ex-MPs and members from selected well-paid professions. We would probably question the country’s democratic credentials.
The problems don’t begin and end with the second chamber; there is a huge imbalance of power between the executive and Parliament that allows legislation to go through the House of Commons without acceptable scrutiny.
The new government has a huge majority with 63 per cent of the members of the Commons based on only 33.7 per cent of the popular vote. Despite the Labour Party deciding to support proportional representation there was no commitment to it in its manifesto.
Finally, we have no written or codified constitution, which means there is no protection of fundamental rights that would be usual in other democracies. As we saw in the last Parliament, this is not a hypothetical issue, but a real danger.
But instead of seeing the obvious problems, we tell ourselves that ours is a special democracy that the rest of the world can learn from.
Here is an obvious question: do we need a second chamber? After all, there are more unicameral than bicameral parliaments in the world. But considering the other idiosyncrasies in our system it seems wise to have a second chamber to provide checks and balances, just not the one that we currently have.
One of the classic functions of a second chamber is to protect the constitution. Such a chamber would generally have powers to veto or at least delay attempts to change the constitution and to ensure that other legislation doesn’t breach constitutional rights.
It is also commonly used in federal nations where its members represent territorial interests wider than a single constituency. Britain has a quasi-federal system but without the usual protections, powers and cross-territorial arrangements. And even the proposed council of the nations and regions will currently only involve around 16 people.
Calls for the abolition or reform of the House of Lords have been around for well over a century. Keir Hardie famously said: “I would rather end than mend the House of Lords.” The Labour Party manifesto of 1910 said: “The Lords must go.”
Life peerages were introduced in 1958 under a Tory prime minister. Harold Wilson proposed substantial changes in the role of the House of Lords, but never delivered.
In 1997 the Blair government made a start on promised changes by removing most of the hereditary peers, leaving just 90 who were elected by their fellow hereditary peers — an ingenious system of self-replicating legislators.
Yet again the government failed to deliver the substantial change it had promised. Gordon Brown promised a referendum on substantial reforms to the House of Lords, but of course, was never able to enact it.
In the three elections between 2015 and 2019, Labour supported an elected chamber of the nations and regions. And we now have the commitment to consult the public.
Despite the many commitments it simply hasn’t been a priority. While we must welcome the removal of the last of the hereditary peers, it is disappointing that the new government has, if anything, weakened the party’s clear belief that the Lords must go.
Because of the lack of democratic credibility of the Lords, we have no legitimate parliamentary means of holding the government to account, should its legislation interfere with what could be defined as fundamental rights. And that is exactly what has been happening.
Recently there have been a number of Bills that were just not fit for purpose but were bulldozed through. They are often dependent on the use of so-called “Henry VIII powers” that allow the government to introduce the detail later without proper scrutiny.
But more worryingly, Bills have been forced through that have huge implications for civil liberties and trade union rights. During the final stages of the Illegal Migration Act 2023, the minister in the Lords argued that “your Lordships will have seen that the elected House has … disagreed with the Lords amendments. I suggest we therefore respect the will of the elected House and the British people by passing this Bill.”
He was of course correct, the unelected House of Lords should not prevent an elected government from delivering its programme, but while there is no other effective means of safeguarding rights, the Lords had to try to perform that role.
The Police, Crime, Sentencing and Courts Act 2023 has recently resulted in sentences of four years and five years for Just Stop Oil protesters convicted of conspiracy to commit public nuisance. The judge justified the sentences on the basis that “it was the will of Parliament.”
There have been numerous examples over the past few years of legislation being imposed on devolved administrations despite the refusal of legislative consent. The Sewel Convention that said that it should only happen in exceptional circumstances has been overridden.
Faced with all of this, it is obvious that we need more effective checks on the unrestrained power of a government by having an accountable second chamber.
The Red Paper Collective has long argued the case for a democratically accountable senate of the nations and regions. In 2022 Gordon Brown produced a report putting the case for an assembly of the nations and regions.
At its launch in Edinburgh, Keir Starmer clearly stated that there would be a consultation on the proposal in advance of the next election so that it could be in Labour’s manifesto and its recommendations could be ready to be implemented in the first term.
Unfortunately, no consultation happened so now, instead of being ready to implement change the manifesto could only reiterate the plan to “consult on proposals, seeking the input of the British public on how politics can best serve them.”
Such a vague commitment suggests that it will be many years before there is any further substantial change to the Lords, and in the meantime, the usual appointments of ex-MPs and the great and the good will continue to fill up the red benches.
Pauline Bryan is a Labour peer.