The Spectator’s Notes | 22 January 2011

To interview people for my biography of Lady Thatcher, I often go the House of Lords, where many of the best witnesses lurk. Recently, the place has become so crowded that queues form at the Peers’ Entrance and mobs of petitioners are kettled beside the coat-racks. The reason is that New Labour created more peers than any government since Lloyd George, so the coalition felt it had to balance the numbers. As controversial legislation, such as the Alternative Vote referendum, is debated, three-line whips have become frequent. This week, we had the great sleep-in. The place is an ermine slum. Now reformers are saying that it is disgraceful that some peers do not attend the House much. But why should they? They are not paid unless they do, and if they judge that they are rarely needed, they are almost certainly right. Besides, my companion last week pointed out as we weaved our way through the throng in the Royal Gallery, if you threaten the absentees, they will all start turning up. Then proceedings will be impossible.

The most common private complaint I hear from ministers in the coalition government is about the illiteracy of their civil servants. Those who were ministers before 1997 and have now returned note a huge change. In the old days, the quality of written expression was high. Government white papers were usually boring, but never incomprehensible. Internal memos were clear, accurately spelt and punctuated, sometimes even elegant. Today, departments have literally dozens of press officers but no one who can write good English. Outside drafting help sometimes has to be called in. Illiteracy has even reached ministerial private offices, where the most able young civil servants traditionally work. Letters present a particularly acute problem. Labour ministers rarely wrote to thank their hosts on ministerial visits; private secretaries often do not know how to express thanks in writing.