Indian politics: it's all about loyalty, really

It's rather warm here in Bangalore but, just as at home in London, Karnataka is awash with election fever, with polls due to take place here on 10 May for the State Assembly.

The various political parties are vying for supremacy, as observers are of the view that the result in this southern state will influence the timing of Lok Sabha (the Indian equivalent of the Commons) elections to come. One interesting effect of this is the flurry of party switching for personal advantage. Whilst at home, political switching at local level is not unheard of, at more rarified levels it is extremely newsworthy.

Here, it appears to be part of day to day political life, and the threat of switching in order to obtain what is called a 'ticket' or candidacy is used, and not just behind closed doors either, but often through the pages of the highly influential local and regional press. Blackmail it may be, but it appears to be successful, especially as personality plays a much more significant role in getting elected than it does in British politics.

One of the side effects of such behaviour is to engender a tremendous amount of cynicism. It is assumed that politicians are corrupt, the argument being reduced to the degree to which they are. One result of this is that potential candidates are obliged to make a public declaration of their assets, the theory being, one presumes, that if a candidate is significantly enriched in the course of a term of office, this can be made known to the electorate.

Interestingly, two researchers from Harvard recently published the findings of their review of the estates of successful and unsuccessful Conservative parliamentary candidates. They discovered that those who had been successful tended to leave larger estates than those who weren't. Now I wouldn't suggest that patronage is necessarily profitable, but it does make you wonder whether all politicians go into the business for purely altruistic reasons...

Hello! Amaranth Edition: the sun shone and the bride looked radiant

It was such a wonderful day in Suffolk yesterday, with bright sunshine over Otley Hall, the sound of lute music accompanied by the call of peacocks and some of Mark and Ros's dearest friends and family there to witness their marriage. Naturally, I was there to represent the family. After all, we've been watching over Mark for some time now.

Mark was first to arrive in his sage green and cream striped frock coat, greeting guests, walking the grounds and keeping a stray chicken out of the Great Hall itself. By 2.50, Ros had arrived, flowers most tastefully arranged in her hair, wearing a cream brocade dress coat and carrying her bouquet in cream and white.

The Superintendent Registrar, having carried out the required checks, then presided over a moving and joyful ceremony as the happy couple exchanged vows and rings, with readings from Ros's friend, Bronagh, and Mark's father.

Champagne and canapes were taken in the lovely garden, with its H-shaped pond, moat and thoughtfully designed wilderness area, whilst the children present chased the surprisingly patient chickens and enjoyed the opportunity for play. Meanwhile, group photographs were taken, followed by some pictures of the bride and groom using the house as a backdrop.

Later, the bride, groom and their guests enjoyed a three-course meal highlighting locally-sourced pork and shellfish washed down with some excellent wines before the evening culminated in speeches by the acting-father of the bride, the groom and the best man (the groom's younger brother, Kirk), with Master of Cermonies duties performed by the dashing, and kilted, John Barrett. The cake was then cut before the bride and groom retired to the Salthouse Harbour hotel prior to their honeymoon in southern India.

It was a simply wonderful day, and the best wishes of the people of Amaranth go with them in the years to come...

And so the big day has arrived...

Welcome to the Salthouse Harbour Hotel, on the quayside in Ipswich, where a slightly nervous but pretty excited bureaucrat is preparing for a day to remember.


I've had a decent night's sleep, eaten a hearty breakfast, and successfully transferred from one hotel to the next. In about two hours, I'll be off to Otley Hall for a truly great day.


The sun is beginning to burn off the morning clouds and I have a good feeling. Wish us luck!

As Lucy might have put it, "Good grief, Gordon Brown!"

It is with increasing disbelief that I watch the neanderthal corps of Labour MP's stride into battle in defence of the poor following the abolition of the 10% rate band. Even those I considered to be of an intellectual capacity appropriate to being a competent legislator have been shown up as apparently lazy and feckless.

The cry goes up, "We didn't know what the impact of the last budget would be, it's all far too complex for our small brains to comprehend!". So, for Gordon Prentice and so many of his colleagues, let's make it simple. We told you so. We told you that, without compensating people through tax credits, those earning between approximately £5,000 and £18,000 would be worse off as a result.

What did you do? You applauded. You acclaimed Gordon Brown as a genius, so much so that you made him your leader without so much as a notional contest.

To be honest, I assumed that you didn't care about single, childless people. We aren't at the front of the queue when it comes to hardship cases - the elderly and small children make much better stories. And besides, you probably assumed that those of us who voted Labour had nowhere else to go anyway.

It would appear that I was wrong. There was no underlying principle, no strategy. You simply didn't understand what was going on, only that your job was to applaud and acclaim come what may. Astonishing!

This, apparently, is what the 'Mother of Parliaments' is reduced to. Frankly, I'm embarassed. On the other hand, I'll be looking forward to public meetings where there is an opportunity to question my local Labour MP. His defence of Labour intellectualism should be entertaining to watch...

Nervous? Me? Why should I be nervous?

A year ago, as our friend Julia points out, I fell into the category of people least likely to be married within a year. Not only was I doggedly single and quite hopelessly disorganised, but I was getting ready to move house and was somewhere between San Francisco and Melbourne, on my way to, eventually, Vanuatu. And then Ros came along...

It's been a bit of a whirlwind since then, with all of the good things that romance brings. We've gotten to know each other (not necessarily as easy or obvious as it sounds), and done a vast amount of organisation, much of it aimed towards tomorrow. Oh yes, tomorrow - the big day.

Normally, your wedding day is organised by parents, better still, her parents, who even pay for it all. On this occasion, given that we're a bit older, we've had to do all of the work ourselves and it's amazing just how much there is to think about, from caterers to florists, from wedding stationery to the Registrar. Luckily, Ros is hyper-organised (it's good that one of us is...) and everything appears to be in place for the perfect wedding.

Interestingly, my rather more laid back demeanor comes into play here. I assume that everything will be fine, on the basis that it's far too late to do anything about it. The people that we've engaged to deal with the various aspects are very nice, very patient, and give every impression of knowing exactly what they're doing. So, just as it is when I'm flying, I trust them on the basis that I couldn't do the job myself.

So I'm pretty relaxed, for now at least. I'm focussed on the end product of the day, i.e. being married to Ros and starting the rest of our lives together. And you know something, everything is going to be just fine...

Why the slaughter of Labour (not so) innocents should be a warning to us all

We're on our way back from the North East, having spent the day campaigning in Durham.

As in Northumberland, the highly unpopular imposition of a unitary authority across Durham has been the cause of much infighting amongst Labour councillors, many of whom have lost their seats through the abolition of the district councils, slashing the number of available positions by as much as 60%. Undoubtedly, for some councillors, the resultant loss of income will be a cause of much wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Because this is County Durham, the Labour Party is most severely affected, although some Liberal Democrats will undoubtedly have been impacted too. I'm rather less sympathetic towards Labour councillors though, as they rammed the legislation through, against the vocal opposition of many across the county.

That said, I do have quite serious reservations in terms of the impact on local democracy. Don't get me wrong, I'm not suggesting that the new unitary authorities will be deliberately less open, transparent and inclusive, merely that a much smaller number of locally elected representatives will have greater responsibility and more work and, correspondingly, less time to fulfil their casework and public contact duties.

Most councillors have full-time jobs. If you ask them to attend more meetings, represent more people and cover larger areas, you can hardly expect them to manage the casework and meet the public, be it through canvassing or public meetings. The public will effectively be distanced from their representatives and lose that connection with their local authorities.

One does wonder if, indeed, this is the intention of an increasingly managerial Labour government, whose paranoia about releasing their grip on local authorities grows by the day. They have talked a decent enough game on localism whilst, at the same time, imposing unpopular unitary schemes on counties such as Cheshire, Durham and Northumberland. Their proposals for the governance of local authorities tend towards the 'one size fits all', unless of course, it is something called for by one of the loopier Labour authorities such as Stockton-on-Tees.

'Best' of all are their proposals founded on a curious belief in strong leadership, in Labour-speak, strongman leadership, where responsibility inflexibly lies with one all-powerful figure, usually supported by a small cabal, leaving the remaining majority of councillors to attempt to hold them to account. We've all seen how effective this is in London, where Ken rules supreme with the support of just nine of the twenty-five Assembly members.

And yet there appears to be no underlying priniciple other than that of virtual totalitarianism. The now Department of Communities and Local Government has had so many changes of leadership that we have a kind of bungy decision-making. A new Secretary of State arrives, makes a serious of pronouncements which contradict those made by his/her predecessor, causing councils to attempt the administrative equivalent of tapdancing on quicksand, only to be pulled out and replaced by someone new, who promptly... well, you know what I'm going to say.

Comrade Brown has, over the years, pontificated about the importance of economic stability in the construction of a sound economy. Administrative stability is important too, especially in enabling local authorities to plan the effective provision of key services. Perhaps a period of silence on the part of the current Secretary of State might be helpful?

A bureaucrat's response to artistic criticism

I really knew that I should have researched more on the haiku form before I blogged yesterday. On the other hand, canvassing in Alnwick seemed to be more immediately relevant. At least the erudite nature of my readership is apparent.

So, here is a response to the anonymous Tory leafletter in inner London...

Tory Boris fan
Get used to some frustration
Johnson is a fraud

Inspiration strikes in Berwick - my day as haiku

I don't know much about poetry, and less about the noble Japanese concept, but here goes anyway...

Train
A duo of baronesses
Leaflets and rain
The sting of hail
Kindly old lady and her view
Fiona and her car
Alnwick
More rain
Canvass cards slightly damp
Alan Beith
Sunshine on the Castle
Seagulls

Taking the campaign to the North East, and vice versa

Thanks to the wonders of modern technology, this entry comes to you from somewhere between York and Darlington, courtesy of National Express East Coast's free wifi service. It will therefore come as no surprise when I tell you that Ros and I are on our way to the North East to campaign in Newcastle, Berwick and Durham as part of their campaign in the forthcoming local elections.

Whilst Ros has a long record of campaigning around the country, given her responsibilities as our Lords spokesperson on Communities and Local Government, my history is not so good. I've not been terribly keen on visible campaigning, partly because I find 'retail' politics stressful, but because I've generally been busy with the administrative side of things (motto - going to meetings so that you don't have to).

That said, I've been encouraged by Ros to take a more active part in the campaigning work of the Party, and it is entirely right that even bureaucrats should get out and about, meeting voters and arguing the case for liberal democracy. So, today I will be canvassing in two Newcastle wards in support of our candidates.

We're very used to seeing MP's dashing around the country during election campaigns, but members of the House of Lords are a resource that we use much less effectively than we might. Ros is by no means the only Peer on the circuit, so to speak, yet when I talk to friends around the country about getting good speakers, they tend to be fixated on our sixty-odd MP's, forgetting that our Peers often have as much, if not more, to add to campaigning and fundraising efforts. They have the same portfolios, tend to get more time to speak and have, ironically, more influence on government business than to their colleagues at the other end of the Palace of Westminster. They often have quite interesting backstories - for example, one of our noble Lords was in RAF Bomber Command during World War II.

So perhaps it shouldn't be a surprise to see Ros appear at a Local Party event near you. Yes, she is running for Party President, it's true - one can hardly pretend otherwise, there's been enough overt campaigning. And yes, appearances do raise her profile. On the other hand, the opportunity to get eagerly sought media coverage is improved by the presence of a Parliamentarian, local members like to have a chance to meet them, especially in areas where we have comparatively few, and morale is raised by the realisation that someone out there actually cares enough to visit. Best of all, it's all free - we pay our own way...

Vote Match - try it, I think you'll like it

My old friend, Peter Facey, and his colleagues at Unlock Democracy have launched 'Vote Match', an opportunity for voters to measure their views against those of the declared candidates for Mayor of London. Now, whilst I admit to being a member of the Council of Unlock Democracy, having been elected last month, I thought that I really ought to try it first.

It would seem that the candidate who most reflects my views is Brian Paddick, and that I should probably vote Liberal Democrat for the Assembly. This is undoubtedly good news given that I'm the Regional Conference Chair of the London Liberal Democrats, but reassuring nonetheless.

The concept of Vote Match is one that we should all applaud, allowing ordinary voters who may not have the time to peruse the various manifestos and who do not spend their time glued to political websites, news outlets and blogs to measure their views against those of the candidates and political parties. Admittedly, this does imply that the information used to populate the program is sourced in a politically unbiased way, but knowing the range of people involved in Unlock Democracy, I have little doubt as to the effectiveness of the tool.

The idea first took off in the Netherlands, but has spread across Europe and now to the United States, where it may prove to be quite educational. So, well done to Peter and his team, and I hope that it gets the coverage that it deserves.

European Selections: And you thought that we had problems!

I had a moment or two to spare, so I thought that I might see what our Conservative friends are up to. And fascinating it was too...

ConservativeHome is running a piece on the way Conservative Central Office has "stitched up" their selection process for the European Parliament, then withheld the results data from members. There are suggestions that ballot papers didn't go out to all members, that candidates were barred from campaigning, and that the process was rigged in favour of women.

Add to this the fact that the incumbent MEPs went through a separate process at Regional level to decide which order they would appear on the ballot paper - a process run by a regional committee without reference to the membership - and the sense of a political party that can't trust its members emerges.

I'm not actually going to take this opportunity to gloat - our own process was far from flawless - but am rather saddened that Conservative members are seemingly being denied an opportunity to involve themselves in selecting those purporting to represent them.

Political parties suffer from a declining sense of connection to the public. One of the ways they can overcome that is to rebuild their membership base, reversing decades of decline, and encouraging people to join, and even put themselves forward for public office is a core part of that. If, on the other hand, a remote clique deny ordinary members that right, they perhaps shouldn't be surprised if the politically active go elsewhere to express themselves.

I wish Tim Montgomerie and the ConservativeHome participants every good fortune in winning their battle for greater democracy within the Conservative Party. It isn't in anyone's interests to see the politics of the closed shop be successful, regardless of party...

Off the beaten path: lifting our game in East London

And so, inevitably, I'm at a dinner launching Farrukh Islam's campaign for the GLA constituency of Havering & Redbridge, here in Barkingside.

There is a theory that investment of campaigning resources in those areas of traditional weakness that exist will achieve significant returns in terms of additional votes. After all, we all adhere to a belief that, if given a genuine choice, the public will vote Liberal Democrat in droves. And in truth, East London has never been the focus of our campaign strategy. That said, we have eleven councillors in the two boroughs (ten in Redbridge, Jonathan Coles in Havering), so we clearly have a core vote where we work.

I was impressed with the energy with which Farrukh addressed the gathering, and with the number assembled. It was also good to see an excellent turnout from members of the Muslim community, a sign that, with the right candidate, we can reach out to the wider community.

Good food, good company, who could ask for more? Except, perhaps, for a fair wind for Farrukh's campaign...

A reflection on mortality

I've just got back for a visit to my local vet. Not the usual call for flea treatment or something unpredictable but instead, given that I own five cats aged betwen fifteen and seventeen, the first of a series of visits that would eventually have to be made.

Last year, Victoria, my black and white cat, contracted cancer and underwent fairly radical surgery, involving the removal of most of her ear canal. It was hoped at the time that all of the malignant material had been removed but, in recent weeks, it became apparent that there was a problem.

Steeling myself, I took Victoria to the vet, fearing the worst and so it came to pass. What to do? Having undergone surgery so recently, and experienced such trauma, I honestly couldn't put her through it again, especially given the reality that even further invasive surgery would merely buy her a few more months. And so, dear reader, I decided to have her put to sleep.

I've always been in favour of euthanasia. I understand that there are ethical and moral concerns, and the risk that unscrupulous relatives might influence a seriously ill person into making a decision that might be the wrong one. However, freedom to live must also imply a freedom to decide that life is no longer preferable, subject to a robust framework and proper psychological evaluation.

There are those, particularly in the Catholic Church, who believe that to even countenance such a debate is the beginning of a slippery slope towards an amoral society, where the value of a human life becomes a matter of pragmatic economics rather than a contemplation of the human soul. Let me tell you, given the trauma of choosing such an option for a domestic house cat, I cannot imagine how much more ghastly having to make that choice on behalf of another human being would be, even if they had signed a 'living will'.

But it is surely better to consider the quality of someone's life. Fifty or more years ago, medical science had far less in the way of tools to maintain life. The issue of whether to keep someone alive or not was, for the most part, fairly irrelevant. The wonders of modern science allow us choices that our grandparents never had but they also offer us challenges. We human beings have never wanted to die quietly, raging against that dark night as a poet famously wrote. If modern technology can keep us alive, then many of us will want to take that chance, regardless of cost, regardless of probability.

The Catholic Church seldom protests about this, probably a good thing. However, might it not be helpful if they, claiming as they do to be a force for moral good, gave some thought as to the moral dimensions of chronic pain, ill-health and quality of life, rather than simply reprising their role as the opponent of modern scientific thinking that they've got down to such a fine art?

We, who are about to fly, salute you...

Never let it be said that the life of a faceless bureaucrat revolves entirely around bits of paper. There is, I confess, quite a lot of paper involved but Ros is still working through the process of weaning me off of the stuff.

As part of that process, and because she has a wonderful sense of humour, I was driven to Milton Keynes today to try body flying, otherwise known as indoor skydiving. Those of you who know me will be aware that I am likely to be to flying what a rhinoceros is to ballet, but I was assured that, with a little effort, I could soar gracefully through the air and not look the slightest bit silly.

After a slightly frustrating journey (will the roadworks between junctions 6 and 10 of the M1 ever be finished?), we arrived at Xscape and I reported for my introduction to manned flight. A brisk lesson on body positioning and signals followed and, although I wasn't absolutely certain that I had absorbed everything, I was keen to don knee and elbow pads, a jumpsuit, helmet and goggles (the latter in Lib Dem yellow, naturally) and get to the wind tunnel.

Body flying works like this. There is a wind tunnel which blows upwards and a steel mesh represents the floor, enabling your instructor to get a sound footing, and preventing you from falling to the bottom of the tunnel where, in truth, not much will happen (you are absolutely safe, I promise you). You step to an entrance and lean forward, chin up, arms raised, into the wind and assume a horizontal position, chin up, hips arched forwards (downwards) with arms and legs extended. By making small adjustments, you can go up, down and move around. Work hard, and you can do acrobatics and all sorts of other exciting things that would terrify your mother.

I wasn't that good. I got the hang of hovering in the air but every time I started to think about what I was doing, I tended to do something wrong and head off in the wrong or unplanned direction. That said, it was an amazing experience, and there is moving footage of me flying, occasionally. If I work out how to post it on the blog, I'll do so. Maybe I can post my bungy jump in Queenstown, New Zealand as well...

In summary, I wouldn't have missed the opportunity for the world. Jumping out of a plane fills me with dread, but this is exciting without the element of danger. On the other hand, trying to find your way out of Milton Keynes once you've finished... now that's danger for you...

'I'm 4 Ros' - an evening of thinking beyond the box with Brian Eno

I had the great pleasure of attending a function in support of the 'I'm 4 Ros' campaign last night, where the guest speaker was the apparently infamous Brian Eno. I say 'apparently' because a degree of fuss has been made about his recruitment as an adviser to Nick Clegg on reaching out beyond the core vote.

He spoke to an intrigued audience on those issues about our democracy which trouble him, such as what he described as 'an ever shortening feedback loop' in public policy, whereby there is pressure for immediate solutions without time to measure the long (or even medium) term implications. He was also concerned about the tendancy of political parties to operate in thrall to focus groups.

It was a speech of a type we seldom here in politics, thoughtful, full of philosophical insight and imagery and, dare I say it, rather thought-provoking. The absence of political jargon, the sort that comes from all political parties, gave me a sense that I really ought to have been taking notes in order to better appreciate it later.

A varied crowd, including a pleasing number of parliamentarians from both the Lords and the Commons, enjoyed what turned out to be a very entertaining evening, and I am confident that it demonstrates not only that Ros is the serious candidate for the Presidency that I firmly believe her to be, but that there is genuine support for her across the Party.

Liberal Youth - a more auspicious start this time

Ros and I attended the launch of "Liberal Youth", the rebranded Liberal Democrat Youth and Students (LDYS). There were lots of young people around, and very few older people. Spirits were high, and there was plenty of optimism and confidence in the air. How different from the first launch of the youth wing of the Liberal Democrats post-merger...

I first got involved with the Young Liberals in 1986, having been encouraged to get involved on leaving my university's Liberal Society. I joined my local branch in Brent and Harrow, made friends who have lasted through the years... but I digress. The next year, following the disappointment of the General Election, talk of merger between the Liberals and the Social Democrats was in the air, and negotiations were soon under way.

The Young Liberals, who had always been suspicious of our Alliance partners, boldly (and some might say, suicidally) announced their terms for merger, most of which were, quite frankly, never going to be obtained. There were a few who were passionately in favour of merger, the 'realos' to steal a term from the emerging green movement of the time, but most were 'fundis', loyal to the concept of radical, community-based activism. There were a few of us stuck in the middle, longing to uphold the fine traditions of the Young Liberals yet fully aware that merger would happen with, or without, the youth wing. Someone had to man the ship until it could be handed over to a new crew.

Once it became clear that merger was truly inevitable, what was intended to become a merger of two youth wings into one rapidly became the fragmentation of two groups into four, maybe five. The radicals, concluding that their terms wouldn't be considered, let alone met, resigned en masse, leaving those in the room to carry on. Some formed the Young Liberal Movement, a ginger group for real liberalism both inside and outside of the Liberal Democrats, a few transferred their allegiance to the continuing Liberal Party, others chose the Greens. The Young Social Democrats sustained losses too, some to the continuing SDP, others, such as Danny Finkelstein, to the Conservatives.

In the midst of the chaos, I became Secretary General in the absence of any meaningful alternative. My task was a sad one, to deliver the Young Liberals to the grave, in the hope that something new and exciting could be created from the wreckage. It was a grim time, being able merely to stand by as an organisation revered by many former activists limped to an ignominious burial.

Merger brought crisis. There was no money to run the central Party, let alone a youth wing of whom the leadership were deeply suspicious. Former SDP members had always disliked the Young Liberals, based predominantly on a knowledge of its past glories rather than its current dereliction, and were not keen to encourage potential troublemakers. And yet there was no desire to cause trouble. The radicals had left, pragmatism was the order of the day but, without money, little could be done, leaving gesture politics as a tempting option.

And so the Young Social and Liberal Democrats (soon to become the Young Liberal Democrats) were born without fanfare, without resources and without much direction. Involvement was weak, activity weaker (except the international activity, for some reason very successful) and influence virtually non-existent. I served from 1988 to 1992 as Secretary, International Officer, President and Treasurer, hoping against hope that we could build something and always running into the sands of lack of resource and credibility.

Over time, and via a merger with the Students, LDYS built up its credibility, its funding and its activity. I have occasionally bemoaned a lack of consistency and follow-through, but it has become a more viable, more respected organisation in the intervening period. Now, it looks like a pretty vibrant group, and I am optimistic for its future.

A word to the wise though. Whilst one should never be radical simply for the sake of it, if you can't be radical when you're young, you're unlikely to discover the notion as you get older. So don't pander to the leadership in search of credibility, be it personal or organisational. Remember that the radicals of the present tend to become the ancien regime of the future and keep making us older people think a bit...

Criticism, hyperbole and censorship - why being a liberal blogger isn't so easy

One of the difficulties with blogging is fighting the urge to control debate. As a liberal, I believe in the concept of freedom to publish. On the other hand, there is a responsibility to protect the wider society where hurt or offence may ensue. As a publisher, I want to propagate my views and, by attracting favourable supporting comments, gain greater credibility for them. This, in turn, creates a larger audience and thus a virtuous circle is created.

Liberal Democrats tend to be keen to debate, partly because liberalism tends to balance the needs of individuals against those of the community, however defined. That said, discussion within the Lib Dem blogosphere usually remains courteous. Those among us with a reputation for 'edge' generally aim their invective at the opposition. However, when an argument becomes heated, we like to see it unfold. Censorship of public disagreements is frowned upon, as long as criticism is open, and not hidden beneath a cloak of anonymity.

We also tend to dislike hyperbole. Exaggerating your case to the point of ridicule will attract... ridicule...

It looks as though one of my fellow bloggers has overlooked this. Like Bernard Salmon, I read Bob Shaw's comparison of the 1933 Enabling Act with efforts by the Catholic Church to influence the debate on embryo research, and thought that it was an absurd exaggeration of the case. Unlike Bernard, however, I took the viewpoint that Bob was demonstrating his lack of a sense of history and of perspective and left it at that.

Bernard felt more strongly, and chose to comment. Bob's response appears to have been to play the man rather than the ball, resorting to invective. After an exchange of views, Bob then seems to have decided that the exchange shows him in a bad light and removed it.

Sorry Bob, but that's rather foolish. Now that you've been outed as someone who censors merely to protect his own reputation, it is clear that engaging with you is futile, and that comments posted on your blog must agree with your line. In short, what credibility you have is damaged, and credibility is much easier lost than won.

And before anyone gets too excited, I freely admit to censoring comments posted to my blog. Anonymous comments attacking third parties are banned, unless they contain coherent, logical and verifiable argument. I don't believe that anonymity should be encouraged except in very limited circumstances. Otherwise, I'm perfectly happy to publish comments critical of me or my positions on whatever issue I have blogged about.

Where your delivery walk is a bit longer than usual

Amazingly, London's run of by-elections has come to an end (five wins, two good seconds and Havering). And so this bureaucrat found himself in Creeting St Peter, delivering a walk small in numbers but large in distance.

There are some rewards. Despite the snow, there is much to see, horses to pat, pheasants to admire - they're a bit more confident now the season is over - hares in the fields and rabbits in gardens. You meet the occasional local walking their dog(s), which provides an opportunity for a chat, or catch a glimpse of one of the area's many small but perfectly formed rural churches.

The Stowmarket North ward has been Conservative since the Black Death one presumes, but the local Tories appear to have a few problems hanging on to their councillors. Having been elected in 2005, the initial member disappeared, finally resigning in time for a by-election last July. His replacement has quit before his seat at County Hall could barely warm up. It isn't somewhere that Liberal Democrats have fought hard in the past, but a proper campaign was fought last year, and a decent vote was won.

This time, the by-election candidate, Nicky Turner, is back, and she's giving it a go. I'm quite impressed with the literature and the message, "we're local and we're still here", something that the Conservatives really can't claim.

So, if you still have a yearning to help out in a by-election, and fancy giving the Conservatives a bloody nose in a ward they really won't want to lose, get in touch...

And a damned fine conference it was too, if I say so myself...

And so I have delivered my first and, quite possibly penultimate, Regional Conference. Most people seemed to enjoy it, the feedback has been positive and, thanks to the efforts of what I must lovingly refer to as the Regional Geek Sub-committee, attendance was very good. Hopefully, we made a profit...

I've already eulogised about Sally Hamwee, but the contributions from Brian Paddick and Nick Clegg raised our spirits and, I must admit, the latter's comments about the gifts for Sally and Graham simply confirmed his gift for comedy. I'd be quite intrigued to see him on 'Have I Got News For You' or some similar game show.

Simon Hughes and Sarah Ludford continue their gracious support of the Region, and provided us with further reasons to take the fight to our political opponents, both this year and for next year's critical European election.

The final policy session was ably chaired by Caroline Pidgeon, and the contributions from Chamali Fernando, Jo Christie-Smith, Denys Robinson and Mike Tuffrey merely demonstrated the wealth of talent ready to be unleashed on London in the coming months and years.

Thanks must go to Flick Rea and her team of volunteers who make things run so smoothly. Eddie Ottery is our Chief Steward, knows his job backwards and is always calm, Jill Fraser, Margaret Foreman and Eliane Patten deal with registration and, above all, Flick manages me on top of her other responsibilities.

I've learnt quite a bit from this event, and hope to apply it in the run-up to the Autumn Conference and AGM, provisionally scheduled for 15 November. See you there, then?

Sally Hamwee rocks!

Alright, this might not be the headline that leaps most readily to mind when you think about the noble Baroness Hamwee of Richmond upon Thames, but I think that it’s high time for a re-evaluation.

Like many people, even those whose interest in politics is somewhat above the norm, I have traditionally paid little heed to what goes on in either the London Assembly or the House of Lords. The media are where they believe the action to be, and that place is the House of Commons. Meanwhile, work of equal, or more likely, greater value is going on down the corridor and down the river.

Sally Hamwee has served the electors of Richmond upon Thames and London for some years (courtesy causes me not to say how many, but if you’re interested, why not look it up…), as a councillor, as Leader of the council, as a member of the London Assembly – including chairing the Assembly itself – and has a wider brief as a key member of the Communities and Local Government team in the Lords. Until recently, this had little significance to me, and I perceived Sally (as much as I thought of her at all) to be a rather distant, slightly daunting senior figure within our ranks. That is, until I actually met her.

Our paths had crossed in the past, although in mostly glancing terms, but as a colleague of Ros’s, we’ve had occasional conversations in recent months. However, her ‘elevation’ to the position of president of London Liberal Democrats has brought us into closer contact. Apart from being a source of wise counsel, one of the roles of the President is to open our regional conferences and chair the Annual General Meeting. As Chair of the Regional Conference, I therefore have to work with her to ensure that her contribution is properly organised.

On this occasion, however, it was decided that we should honour her for her work as a member of the London Assembly, particularly important given that she did not stand for re-selection and is therefore retiring (a word I use with caution), along with (Lord) Graham Tope. Tasked with organising a suitable gift, I employed my contacts to ascertain what this might be and arranged for purchase.

The agenda was set so as allow Sally time to make a speech on any subject she cared to pick, and she chose to review her eight years on the Assembly, acknowledging the efforts of her colleagues, celebrating the good times, and the not so good ones, bringing events at the Assembly to life and leaving no doubt as to how proud she was to have served London and the Liberal Democrats. She struck just the right tone of outrage at the antics of Mayor Livingstone, and commended Brian Paddick as the best choice for London.

I admit that, as the applause died down, I was impressed. I had never really considered Sally to be the emotional type, more a calm, level-headed technocrat than a warm and witty speaker, but I was clearly wrong.

Indeed, Sally isn’t retiring, far from it. Once the elections are out of the way, she will return to the Lords to lead for the Liberal Democrats on the new Housing and Planning Bills, where her sharp analytical mind, and close command of her brief will doubtless cause the Labour frontbenchers much angst as the summer approaches. It would be nice if she found time to enjoy her gift though…