I knew it was time for me to leave the Scottish Parliament press corps when I was in
Deacon Brodie’s Tavern one night and pulled into a game of “name the top ten sexiest MSPs”. On my first day there, September 2000, the journalist next to me was in trouble for headbutting
a politician in the pub the night before. It’s an unusual place with antics that make Westminster look like a nunnery: I remember one set of political awards where a Labour MSP drunkenly set fire
to the curtains and was imprisoned.
I feel sorry for the poor members of the general public who come into contact with these MSPs – primarily through the Petitions Committee. It’s chaired by Frank McAveety, who forgot to turn his microphone off when leering after a member of the public.
Get Britain's best politics newsletters
Register to get The Spectator's insight and opinion straight to your inbox. You can then read two free articles each week.
Already a subscriber? Log in
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in