Last week, Prager Strasse, this week... Prague!

It is, perhaps, merely a coincidence that, on my last holiday, I read a history of the Thirty Years War (1618-48). There was quite a lot of death and destruction, chronicled quite sensitively, not necessarily suited to a beach holiday in Jamaica. However, as research material for this holiday, it has been extremely useful.

As all of my readers doubtless recall, the Thirty Years War started here in Prague, a gentle stroll from the Strahov Monastery, the unexpected location of our extremely comfortable hotel, complete with sixteenth century wood beams in the ceiling, above Prague Castle. The defenestration of two leading advisors to the Hapsburg emperor led to a short-lived uprising brought to a chaotic and conclusive ending at the Battle of White Mountain in 1621.

Even the journey here included reminders of one of the most destructive conflicts in European history, as our train passed through Pirna. The town was occupied by the Swedes in 1639, and never really recovered its wealth, with subsequent invasions by the Swedes again in 1706, the Prussians in 1756 and the French in 1813 - the town had the misfortune of being on the main route between Bohemia and Saxony.

As Ros has never been to the Czech Republic, it means that I can be her tour guide, pointing out some of the historic stuff and putting it into context. I am supported in this by the Lonely Planet 'Prague City Guide' which is, I must admit, extremely good. The maps are accurate, the walking tours not too heavily touristed, and the restaurant suggestions excellent.

We've now eaten four meals at restaurants they recommend, one in Hradcany, between Strahov and Prague Castle, which was pricey by city standards, although not by London standards. My veal roll with black truffles, washed down by a very decent bottle of Czech wine, was a joy.

The next recommendation was here at the Strahov Monastery, the St Norbert's Brewery, which brews its own beer, which serves hearty food for hearty people (that probably means us). Ros particularly enjoyed their amber beer, which washed down the wild boar in rosehip sauce and bread dumplings a treat.

Last night was an opportunity to explore real Prague, away from the tourist crush. The guidebook suggested 'Perpetuum', a restaurant serving the local speciality - duck - so we set off towards the end of Metro Line A. The problem with all guidebooks is that they are accurate as at the time they are written, and that as a result, their usefulness decays quite quickly. However, we found the restaurant easily enough and were highly impressed with the fantastic roast wild duck in plum sauce they produced, served with bread dumplings and red cabbage. Two courses, with beer, for just £32, would be hard to beat, and would doubtless surprise the tourists eating near Charles Bridge.

Today, we've been walking in Letna and Stromovka, north of the city, taking in the parks, enjoying the sunshine, and on our route, we were advised to stop at 'La Creperie', part way through. We were a bit early though, so got to the end of our walk at Prague Zoo and headed back. As we travelled on tram number 17, I realised that we were back near 'La Creperie', so we got off, and headed down a rather unlikely back street towards a rather unlovely government building.

Just as we were beginning to have severe doubts, there was the restaurant, looking ominously quiet. However, nothing ventured, so I tried the door and found myself admitted to a cosy little room where old French chansons were playing. Promising, we thought. The menu was equally promising, with an array of galettes (open-faced crepes) to choose from. They were very well done indeed, very reasonably priced, amidst genuine charm and ambience.

Prague has, thus far, been a delight. Architecture to die for, great food, better beer, easy to get around, full of surprises, it is a sensory overload designed to lift the spirits. And the weather has been amazingly kind - sunshine and blue skies throughout. Indeed, the trip has gone so well that thoughts are turning to Budapest, Krakow, Bratislava...
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Liberal Democracy linked to obesity!

No, not a Daily Mail headline - it would be cancer if it was, surely - but the findings of a sample of Liberal Democrat councillors in one mid-Suffolk local authority, i.e. Creeting St Peter.

It would be fair to say that politics and liberal bureaucracy are not a healthy mix. When I first got involved in politics at university, I was in the early stages of putting on seventy pounds. The late nights, the beer, the junk food, the lack of exercise, all of these took their toll. It was only when I became International Officer of the Young Liberal Democrats that I became inspired to address the problem, and promptly lost half of that in a year. Giving up active politics in mid-1991 caused me to lose the remaining thirty-five pounds in six months.

I became politically active again in the late nineties, and the pounds began to pile on inexorably, until late 2003, when I had put all of the weight back on, but was suddenly out of the political scene again. Off came the weight again, another thirty-five pounds, and I was doing well, relatively fit (fit enough to wander around Machu Picchu and Potosi comfortably, despite the high altitude).

And then Flick Rae came a-calling in 2004, and lured me back into Liberal Democrat politics. More late nights, less/no exercise, bad dietary habits, more alcohol, those pounds went back on. The Presidency, combined with a diet rich in locally produced pork, cheese and beer, certainly didn't help - all of those Local Party dinners, the hotel buffet breakfasts - I was on the road to perdition. Until this summer, with my District Council election out of the way, when I decided to scale back the politics and focus on getting myself into rather better shape.

It's gone quite well up until now - I've lost twenty pounds and reclaimed a large wardrobe of clothes that had ceased to fit - but there's an awfully long way to go still. It will, I have to confess, probably be even further after this holiday, with much pork eaten and even more beer drunk. But it's been fun, and I have a decent run until Christmas to make another dent in the pile of sugar bags I effectively carry around with me.

Next year, I suspect that the politics I do will be rather gentler. I'm not up for election to anything significant, certainly nothing requiring a campaign, I won't be a Regional office holder, and I'm not expecting the Parish Council to occupy my time quite to the extent that it did this year. Hopefully, I might reach the end of 2012 in rather better shape as a result, both mentally and physically. One can but hope...
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Social housing policy: does Grant Shapps have a point?

I note that there have been some rather critical responses to the announcement that preferential treatment might be given to those with jobs when allocating social housing. But before we get too indignant, perhaps we need to consider what underpins such an idea.

Escaping the ghetto mentality

With social housing in short supply, and with the existing obligation to house those meeting set criteria, it is increasingly only those whose circumstances are most desperate who get housed. It is, as has been noted, a case of putting a roof over the heads of those most in need. The catch is that, as a result, estates of social housing become sinks for the worst social problems in our communities, places where aspiration is low, achievement lower.

Many people have concluded that restoring the social mix in these estates is key - after all, if people are conditioned by their circumstances, then introducing people with jobs into the community might provide role models to those seeking to improve their lot. However, with current policies, you can't do that, leaving such areas to spiral downwards into despair and deprivation. If building the hundreds and thousands of new social housing units that would allow an improvement in the social mix isn't viable, what do you do instead?

Creating a bridge from your parents to your own home

Finding a place to live is difficult, especially in our big cities. The cost of renting, relative to salary levels, is almost out of reach of many twenty-somethings in London. However, if they could move into social housing, this would drive rents down across the board, as the government can already cap housing benefit. But again, you'd need the sort of change of policy that is being proposed.

Challenging the rewards for fecklessness

There are a lot of people in this country, who, fairly or otherwise, believe that we devote far too many resources to those they define as scroungers, people who could work but don't, those who are perceived to be asking the State (or more appropriately, taxpayers) to support their 'lifestyle choice'. And there is no doubt that some of those on benefits are making the logical calculation that if working makes them only marginally better off, why go to the trouble?

The notion that the State should be there for, as Al Murray, the Pub Landlord, puts it, honest, hardworking, decent, tax-paying English people, is widely held. The idea that such people should pay their taxes to support a bunch of people to skive all day whilst they themselves struggle to get by is a deeply unpopular one.

And yes, there is a differentiation between 'deserving' and 'undeserving' poor. We all make it, although our definitions of deserving and undeserving may vary depending upon our social consciences. So, is a homeless person with a job more deserving than one without one? Of course, the answer is, "that depends upon the circumstances" - easy in principle, less so in practice.

So, there are three reasons that might justify giving those with jobs preference in allocating social housing. Note that I'm not saying they will...
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If a no-fly zone was what did for Gaddafi, will an economic boycott do for Assad?

As the Syrian regime continues to kill protestors, events in Libya are conspiring to make life a bit more difficult for President Assad and his government.

Syria exports about 100,000 barrels of crude oil per day, or at least, it did until European Union sanctions were imposed last month. In the scheme of things, that isn't very much, but it represents about 25% of the country's earnings denominated in foreign currencies. Virtually all of it was bought by EU-based customers, so the Syrians are looking for alternative purchasers.

And that search is made more difficult by the resumption of exports from Libya, expected next month. Oil prices are expected to fall back, making Syrian oil less attractive, especially once the costs of insurance are factored in. Indeed, given that the Transitional National Council in Tripoli have been openly admitting that they will be favouring those nations that supported their quest to overthrow the Gaddafi regime, it might be seen as risky to gamble on an open show of support for the Assad regime. And the option to retain oil pending the arrival of a customer is limited by Syria's storage capacity, which is now almost entirely utilised.

With the Syrian economy now thought to be on the verge of recession, the question is, how long can the regime continue to arm its military, and at what point does the military leadership start looking for a way out?

Meanwhile, a worrying pattern is beginning to emerge, with a number of leading Syrian academics being assassinated in Homs, a hotbed of dissent against the regime. In 2003, a similar wave of killings in Iraq, targeted at doctors, academics and scientists, led to a rush for the exit, and impoverished Iraq. Here, one suspects that the regime is trying to discourage the emergence of potential opposition leaders. The effect might well be the same though, as high profile figures decide that they are safer somewhere else.

Roll your own? Bloody tax dodger!

I'm on holiday, so I need some reading material for the bits when we're taking time out from being tourists. A good book, perhaps. But no, I'm a bureaucrat, so something educational, methinks. Indeed, what I have is highly informative, and as you certainly haven't read it, and you almost certainly won't, I feel obliged to give you some snippets...

Today, I've learned about HRT. No, not hormone replacement therapy, hand rolling tobacco. Now, I have to admit that I don't smoke, and never have done. I do rather like the smell of a good cigar, and I find pipe smoke strangely reassuring in its carcinogenic way. However, I've never given tobacco much thought. I do have friends who roll their own - you kind of expect that amongst Liberal Democrats.

What I didn't know is that it is statistically likely that those friends are ripping off the Treasury. In truth, some of them probably know if they are - if you're paying less for it than the usual price, you might logically be suspicious - but if it's being sold to you by a tobacconists, or a corner shop, you may be unduly enriching not only the retailer, but the criminals he or she purchased them from.

You see, HM Revenue & Customs reckon that illicit hand rolling tobacco supplied between 41% and 50% of the total market in 2009-10. Interestingly, that's down quite substantially over four years (the range was from 55% to 64% in 2005-06), but still represents approximately £750 million. And that's a lot of money, about 2% of the estimated tax gap. Put another way, it represents the same amount of money as that lost through incorrect self assessments by non-business taxpayers.

So, when UK Uncut talk about closing the tax gap, here's a statistic that you can quote right back at them. And then ask them what they'll do instead...

Peter Hain and his Theory of Political Cohesion

"It seems to me that the Liberal Democrats are likely to splinter at the time of the next election between if you like the Orange Book leadership, Nick Clegg and others at the top, and what I think of as the majority of Liberal Democrats."

"If that happens, then I think there is a prospect for some kind of alliance, with if you like... the genuine Liberal Democrats, together with the Greens and together possibly with other forces."

"But I think from the basis of where we are at the moment I think it is very possible we can win the next election but it is very difficult for us to win a majority and therefore we need to look to alliances well beyond our ranks in order to effectively get a majority government to stop the Tories with others, whoever they might be next time, carrying forward this very right-wing agenda."

There is no doubt that, in advance of the next General Election, Liberal Democrats are going to have to give serious thought to the questions of "what if". This will involve some discreet discussions to see where the common ground is, if any, to discover who will dance, and who won't, if the public decide not to award a clear mandate next time.

This makes the comments from Peter Hain above look interesting. Yes, those discussions are taking place, with Liam Byrne leading for Labour, but it isn't clear that Peter is hearing the same music that we are, or that it's even from the same band. Mind you, given that Ed Balls has cast himself in the Gordon Brown role pre-1997, I'm not sure which band he is listening to. It might not be his. I am, however, intrigued by the notion that he thinks that the Liberal Democrats could split, and even more intrigued by the potential thought processes that lead him to such a conclusion.

Liberal Democrats are quite a fractious bunch, by comparison with the Labour and Conservative Parties. Our open policy-making, our fixation with internal democracy, these are things that place squarely on the record where our disagreements are. In many ways, they make us stronger by sketching out the ideological boundaries beyond which we will not be dragged, by sending a message to our leaders. It also makes huge falling outs less likely.

That balance of power is a restriction, and a protection, all in one. It makes us more coherent as a campaigning force, and makes us less, not more, likely to split. Perhaps it has been too long since Peter split from the Liberal Party, and perhaps it was too easy for him to leave, because he fails to understand the loyalty that our activists retain.

And we are not alone. Our supposed intellectual schisms are as nothing compared to the Old Labour/Nu Labour split of the Blair years, and yet they hung together. You see, political parties are like families, the more time you spend with them, the more comfortable you become, making the thought of giving it up for an uncertain future rather harder.

There are those who join a party, have a look around, and realise that it isn't for them. They either go somewhere else, or they give up. There are those for whom a political party is simply a vehicle for their personal ambition - they tend to become obvious sooner rather than later. But organised mass breakaways are rare.

So, if Mr Hain is relying on a Liberal Democrat schism to allow Labour back into power, he may be forced to wait some time. A split is possible, but unlikely, and many of our social liberals don't entirely trust Labour anyway. Of course, some of their social liberals might want to find a home in the Liberal Democrats... 

Labour discover that university funding is rather harder than they wanted to admit

Unlike most of the 'Comment is Free' contributors (do you get a pitchfork and a burning torch when you submit your first comment?), I'm rather more tolerant of Ed Milliband's suggestion that they would cap tuition fees at £6,000 per annum. That is not to say that I support it particularly.

It is at least an acknowledgement that the future funding of our universities cannot rely solely on government, especially if you want to provide a world class education to as many people as might want it.

Labour's drive over thirteen years to massively increase the number of young people going to university appeared to be built on the backs of university lecturers and academic administrators, with salaries kept low, class sizes increasing and facilities stretched beyond capacity. And given that, with finite resources, you will always have rationing of some sort, something was inevitably going to give.

As one of those who was always nervous about the infamous pledge, the events following the publication of the Browne Review were akin to the slow motion unfolding of a train wreck. And yes, you can argue that Liberal Democrats did what they could to improve fairness, but the brutal fact is that if something is provided at below cost price, and then you remove the subsidy, you're not going to be popular. Being right, assuming you are, isn't the same as popular.

There are so many facets to the debate that simply talking about the cost deflects the debate away from such basic questions as "do we need 50% of our young people to have a degree?". Or, if the state is to support students, what priorities might be set? Grants for mathematicians and scientists, or reduced fees for those whom the State believe we have a need of - if you can apply that theory to immigration, you can surely apply it to education.

So, Ed is merely tinkering at the fringes. He's allowed, but I'm not convinced that the politics are that profound...

Saxon beers and sausage roll

I have a funny feeling that the autumn is going to be busy, so it is nice to be on holiday for a little while. And you might guess from the title that we're back in Dresden, having enjoyed the city so much in May that we were moved to come back.

This time, we have some proper exploration in mind, given that last time, we were a bit disorganised, drifting around in a bit of a haze, and quite dismally failing to visit most of the key attractions. The guidebook has been read (mostly by Ros, I admit), plans made. And we have enough time to do it well. We have been welcomed with some decent weather too, with the forecast for sunshine until Wednesday, when we leave for the second leg of the trip.

So, stand by for tales of good beer, quite a lot of pork, and a bit of seventeenth century history, most of it pretty grim. For we are in one of the key locations for the Thirty Years War...

Half man, half shortbread?

I spent Wednesday afternoon with my mother, something that I haven't done for an awfully long time - almost certainly far too long. And no, she's perfectly well, her faculties are still in fine working order, and she's no crazier than she's ever been (in truth, she's probably one of the sanest people I know).

It was fun. We drank tea, put the world to rights (she's not a huge fan of Nick Clegg, I must note) and talked about family stuff. I got fed at regular intervals and agreed that we should do this more often - we're not a family that demonstrates its affection on its sleeve, and organising get-togethers is not something we're great at.

However, as I was getting ready to head back to Mid Suffolk, there was something unexpected to see. Some old family photographs of my maternal great grandfather and great grandmother have turned up, dating back to 1909, taken at a photographer's studio in either Keith or Dufftown. For those of you who don't know either, they are in Banffshire, between Aberdeen and Inverness, the home of some of the finest Scotch whisky to be found anywhere.

Whilst my mother was born in Keith, I had assumed that this was merely an accident of timing, as my grandparents moved the family to East Sussex within a year of her birth. And as we don't really talk about the dead, the family history has gone uncommented upon. So, the fact that my mother's grandparents were from Craigellachie indicates that I might be rather more Scots than I had thought.

And yes, there is a clan - Gordon - and a tartan, a relatively tasteful one too.

This may explain the instinctive liberalism, the somewhat conservative personal morality and my broad non-conformist streak in. Indeed, it implies that whilst I've got my father's looks, I could have my mother's philosophical outlook. Which begs the question, might liberalism be genetic?
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The new politics isn't blindly partisan. Have we really understood that?

I am, in political terms, a fairly gentle soul, as I may have noted before. I like to think generously of my opponents, as far as that is possible. It isn't always easy, but one should try. And perhaps I'm not the only person who should.

Now that we've got the hang of this 'being in government and acting responsibly' lark, perhaps we need to think about how we do politics as a party. As people who talk a good game of pluralism, we imply that collaborative, inclusive politics is a good thing. Which, of course, it is. However, we're not always good at dealing with the consequences of that stance.

It does mean that we have an obligation to listen to opposing views, to evaluate what they have to say, and to explain why we are going to do what we have agreed. After all, given the overlap between the manifestos of the various political parties, there are areas of agreements with all of them. Admittedly, you'd be amazed to find what some of them are, but they do exist. Oh yes, we may differ as to why, or how, or when, but in broad terms, that agreement is still there.

So, why do we have to talk as though politics is about us and them, about right and wrong, in the kind of black and white way that we spend so much time saying is exactly the wrong way to look at complex problems? Instead, for example, of simply exclaiming that Labour would have cut almost exactly as far and as fast, oh and, by the way, they smell, why not say that, given the state of the public finances, we would welcome any specific suggestions that they might have? If they have any good ideas, it is in the national interest to use them, giving credit accordingly. If they don't, and there are no signs yet of specifics, then it will become apparent pretty quickly. They may even up their game.

It isn't about being nice, it isn't about being wishy washy, it's about building a politics that allows people to work across party boundaries for the national or local interest. Because it's really hard to do so with people you've spent five years slagging off.

We have an opportunity to change the way politics is done in this country. Given that, as a Party that is a potential partner for either of the other major Parties, plus the Nationalists in Scotland and Wales, we could end up in government under a myriad of circumstances, developing better personal relationships might well make for better governance.

And to the public out there, they may not necessarily understand how important that is, but they will certainly appreciate the benefits.

A bureaucrat's guide to... the committee

As a bureaucrat, you might not be terribly surprised by my headline. Bureaucrat and committee go together like gin and tonic (now, there's a thought...), or the House of Lords and old people who need a warm place for a nap.

However, I am obliged to respond to my fellow parish councillor in Stansted, Essex, Daniel Brett, whose rather broad generalisation as to the value of committees reminds me that those white stilettos must be killing him (oops, that's an astonishingly broad generalisation about Essex residents, drawn from a very limited and extremely biased sample of experiences in Romford on a Friday night...). Daniel entertainingly links the rather complex mesh of committees in Gaddafi's Libya to the oppression that the people of that benighted country experienced for too long. Well, in the same way that guns don't kill people, the people bearing them do, committees aren't a menace to good governance, the people who serve on them are.

And trust me, I should know.

So, here are some things that make committees work, rather than frustrate...

1. Determine whether or not your journey is really necessary

Do you actually need this committee? This might seem like an obvious question, but there is a tendency to create committees because you can. The idea of a committee is to reduce the number of people attending to just those who add value, thus allowing consideration of issues by those who care, or can have an effect. By doing so, you combine expertise whilst reducing the number of stupid questions.

2. Preparation is everything

Written reports, circulated in advance, prevent rambling verbal updates, reduce stupid questions and, in an ideal world, allow the author to formally move the report, take the odd question (a good report includes all the relevant information, as well as the context) and focus colleagues on the decisions that need to be taken.

3. Ramblers shall be prosecuted

There is nothing more annoying than having someone who rambles on, sucking the oxygen out of the room, never sticking to the subject when the opportunity to tell a lengthy story about 'old Bert' or whoever. Get rid of them, or create a special committee to occupy all of them whilst the real work is done elsewhere.

4. Chairs aren't for sitting on, they're for moving on

How quickly do you want to get home? More importantly, how quickly does the Chair want to get home? It's amazing how quickly meetings go when there's an unavoidable deadline. And if there isn't one, fake it. People will be much more focussed if time wasted further up the agenda denies them the chance to address the things that really matter. Put the things that are important at the end of the agenda, and people will skate through the dull stuff to get to it.

So, Daniel, don't get mad, get even. And, best of all, get home early...

Your democracy is under threat - do something to save it!

I'm not one for hyperbolae normally, but the proposal to make electoral registration voluntary risks disenfranchising millions of people - women, ethnic minorities, the young - and changing the electoral landscape of this country forever.

As a member of the Management Board of 'Unlock Democracy', I am asking you to write to your MP, urging them to support the retention of mandatory registration. I admit that the idea of mandation is a tricky one - some of my more libertarian colleagues might rightly question whether or not the freedom to exclude oneself from the democratic process is a good thing - but if it is made voluntary, there will be a huge upsurge in the number of those who do not appear on the electoral register.

We already have a problem in this country with a significant number of people who avoid being on the electoral register - to avoid jury duty, or to lower their profile with the authorities for whatever reason. These people deny themselves right to take part in the decisions that affect their lives, and the idea that many more people will unintentionally be shut out weakens our democracy, and excludes diverse voices from the fora that decide our nation's future.

Many thanks!

Commitment and culture - barrier to progress, or gateway to opportunity?

Picking up where I left off last time...

The personal commitment aspect is a less tricky one.

Frankly, in a small village, the volume of work is, relative to that of a district or county councillor, derisory. And as for metropolitan or unitary councillors, our 'burden' would be barely noticeable. That isn't to say that what we do is irrelevant, more that our powers are rather few. However, like at any level, the amount you do beyond the statutory minimum is up to you.

It is, perhaps, the cultural element which offers the broadest challenge. What sort of parish council is it? Is there a sense of 'Führerprinzip', with a hierarchy of authority, or is it more collaborative? How are the tensions between those styles of governance managed, where they exist? If there is a hierarchy, does it respect the ability of councillors to deliver both their legal, and their representative obligations?

I freely admit that I struggle in this area. You might expect that I tend towards a more collectivist sense of responsibility, whilst the fact that I am (potentially) directly elected makes me personally accountable. I'm also spontaneous, to an extent which troubles the Chair, and the Parish Clerk. If something arises urgently, and there isn't a parish newsletter due (and as it is published quarterly, it is likely that it won't be), my first thought is to do something to publicise it.

Naturally, I can't do that in an official capacity, because it isn't approved by the Chair and the Parish Clerk. And now, it seems, they don't want me to do it in a personal capacity, at least, not without their approval. It is, to put it mildly, a paradox. What happens if they don't approve of it?

It is, I suppose, a question of potential effectiveness. A difference of opinion between us potentially weakens my ability to influence the decision making of the council as a whole (the validity of the argument isn't always enough), and if I believe that I have a useful role to play, then I have to take a longer view.

And whilst the cultural differences between some of us may be difficult to bridge - and in this instance, I fundamentally differ, I may have to accept that subliminating one's personality for a greater good is the best option.

Now, all I have to do is reconcile myself to that...

Total Politics Blog Awards: life is full of surprises

It's been a roller-coaster ride so far. Having been 42nd, 49th and 92nd on the list of the 100 top Liberal Democrat blogs when it was first published - we finally settled on 42nd - I had no great expectations beyond that.

So, you can imagine my surprise when, on checking the list of the top 100 Liberal Democrat bloggers, I found myself in 20th place (which does kind of make you wonder why the blog is 42nd, but who am I to argue?). That's not bad, if I say so myself. After all, there are some damned good bloggers above that - and some equally good ones further down.

This morning, however, I was looking at the councillor blogs, only to find that I write the 34th best councillor blog. Not the 34th best Liberal Democrat councillor blog, but the 34th best of any political stripe. It isn't as though I've won an election yet (well, if you count unopposed ones, I have, but...). And, apart from my ongoing philosophical struggle with the dilemmas of life on a small parish council, I don't actually do much councillor stuff - you'd be pretty desperately bored if I did, and the Chairman wouldn't like it.

And now I find that I am the 174th best political blogger which, I must confess, comes as a bit of a surprise. Clearly, given the fact that the content is not exactly exciting (harvest mice?), there can only be two explanations - I write well, or I have a lot of friends. Either is good (naturally, both would be better, but I leave that to viewer discretion).

Recognition is a good thing, on the whole, and can act as a useful spur to further activity. So, moving right along...
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The one in which I explore how effective one can be as a Parish Councillor...

There are, as at any level of government, limits upon what you, as an elected representative, can do or achieve.

There are the financial ones - what discretionary spending is available, if any, what resources you can bring to bear in terms of staff, the ability to increase income. There are personal ones - how much time you have available, how much casework you get, your level of commitment. And there are cultural ones - how empowered you are, how much information you can obtain.

At Parish Council level, the 'debate' is more philosophical in nature than elsewhere. The general lack of elections means that the motivation to work for the electorate has to come from within, rather than through any fear of defeat at the polls. The absence, for the most part, of partisan politics means that there is a risk of isolation, balanced by an enhanced sense of independence.

It is also much more personal. The staff are not faceless, he or she is all that you have. If the relationship is good, based on mutual respect, a shared sense of purpose and an understanding of each other's needs, it works very well. If, however, you are not lucky enough to have this, it is unlikely to end well. And, because you are on your own, there is a lack of support - nobody to explain why, or how, nothing to ensure that you are included. In short, there is the scope for conflict.

The financial aspects are, at this level, far less complex, but far more personal. The money I spend as part of the Parish Council is raised from my immediate neighbours. If I waste money, they know about it and, given that I can't hide behind a large, faceless bureaucracy, there is nowhere to run. And, as a fiscal conservative, I fret about spending money 'because we can'. It could be a toxic combination, if you allow it to become one.

Next time: how your commitment and the council culture can boost, or reduce, your effectiveness...

Freedom of expression and the Parish Council...

Yesterday, I touched on the context within which small parish councils operate. Here's an example of the sort of issue that can arise...

I blog, both here and at 'The Creeting St Peter Journal', a local blog for local people', you might say. The Chairman of our Parish Council, a former army officer (I believe), is somewhat suspicious of anything that he doesn't 'get', uncomfortable with the idea of my reporting from Parish Council, and is a mite autocratic. Perhaps autocratic is a bit harsh, but he's a bit more used to command and control than I am.

Rosemary, our Parish Clerk, isn't wild about my blogging either. Her view is that all reportage of the Parish Council should come from her. What she must make of Focus leaflets doesn't bear thinking about... Upon issuing a hard copy edition of my other blog last week, I received a 'demand' that I provide her with a copy (she lives in another parish). I accept that my response was a bit prickly, as you might expect.

I chafe against the notion that, as an elected official, there is an implied sense that my responsibility to the council supersedes that to the people who would have elected me had there been an election (at least, I hope that they would have done).

When I first became a parish councillor, I came under severe pressure not to report events at Parish Council. As a newcomer to both the village and the council, it seemed easier to comply with their wishes rather than pick an unnecessary fight. However, times change and, with confidence renewed, there is a piece of me, my inner citizen journalist if you like, that feels that I should seek a better balance between competing loyalties. Facts can be interpreted to suit your argument, but there is a difference between a political report and a news one. That's perhaps why I maintain a village blog, with straight reportage, and a personal one, where I can 'vent my spleen'.

And ultimately, I'm up for re-election in 2015. In the event that I choose to run, and there's a contest, I don't want to be campaigning with my hands tied behind my back...

Learning how to manage the balance of power - Parish style

As a rookie at the grassroots level of local politics (and trust me, there is no lower level than a small parish council), it is fair to say that I have discovered a number of advantages.

Firstly, you can't kill anyone, no matter how badly you screw up. Yes, I might miss a subtle nuance on a planning application, or forget to submit my thoughts on a consultation on primary school provision, but I don't actually have any powers over such things. We could turn off our nine street lights, or let the grass on the village green grow until you could hide a rhinoceros in it, but even that is unlikely to be fatal - I've never seen a rhinoceros lurking anywhere in Creeting St Peter, let alone on the village green.

Second, you do get to learn a surprising amount about local government at higher levels. Our district and county councillors, both Conservative regrettably, report back on what they're doing (albeit badly and usually verbally), so you get a sense of who is responsible for what. Admittedly, Ros knows far more about this than they do, and I can learn more from her in five minutes than I could from my elected representatives, but it is educational, if only as a 'how not to' exercise.

There are disadvantages too. You have very few levers to pull, especially in a small village like mine. Bigger villages have village halls, subcontract tasks from higher tiers of local government, have budgets that allow them to do things. But when your precept is less than £4,000 per annum, you're not exactly fretting about anything significant.

However, there is a learning opportunity. We have a Parish Clerk, who is paid to provide us with a fixed amount of time per week. As an experienced officer at this level, she has a view as to how her work is done, and how her council operates. You will note the use of the phrase 'her council'. And that is the crux of my 'opportunity'.

You see, we disagree on something rather fundamental, i.e. who actually runs the council. It isn't as easy as it sounds.

Her job is, effectively, to ensure that we fulfil our legal responsibilities, something which has become more difficult as layer after layer of legislation has been draped over this junior tier of government. In a lot of parish councils, especially the smaller ones, the level of expertise amongst councillors is low - they're there because they care about their village, not because they are fascinated by the minutiae of the Local Government and Public Involvement in Health Act 2007. As a result, being a Parish Clerk means leading councillors by the hand, a somewhat paternalist exercise, but an often necessary one.

A parish councillor like myself - political, rather better informed than the norm, and prone to thoughts of accountability and communication - presents an unusual problem. I see democracy as participatory, an informed process, and not necessarily well suited to a paternalist approach. I'm an 'out' Liberal Democrat, operating in a sphere where overt politics is rare, and often discouraged. You can see the potential for... how might I put it... gentle disagreement?

Tomorrow - an example of where paternalism and liberalism collide... freedom of expression and the Parish Council...

A toad in the demesne

Home in Mid Suffolk again (or rather, having never left Mid Suffolk in the first place because, as I have explained, I haven't gone to Conference...), we've been catching up on a little light gardening before the nights begin to draw in. Ros has been planning one of the borders for next year, and was poking about when she was slightly surprised by this...

I presume that it is a common toad - it's a bit squat to be a frog, and we don't have any open water anywhere (given the size of our garden, I'm sure that I would have noticed). However, it is rather attractive, and I am fairly confident that one of my readers can give me a more definitive answer.

It is one of the great delights of being a country dweller that I encounter much more wildlife, at much closer quarters, than I ever did as a Londoner. Quail, pheasants, deer, hares - all of these are commonplace and part of a gentle scenery that never ceases to soothe a bureaucrat's soul.

It seems to have that effect on our visitors too. Friends come to Creeting St Peter from their busy urban lives and tend to remark afterwards how relaxing it all is, which is very nice. And now that both Ros and I have settled upon a less hurried pace of existence, we tend to get more visitors...

Lib Dem Voice Blog Awards - Spidey, you're wrong on this one...

As one of those shortlisted for one of last night's awards (best blog by a Liberal Democrat holding public office), I was somewhat disappointed to see the comments from one of Woking's finest which, I fear, smacked of bitterness. The accusation that the Awards are an opportunity for the Liberal Democrat Voice team to 'reward its friends' is a pretty serious one so, as someone who has worked with them in the past, has written for  them too, but isn't actually part of the team, perhaps I should contribute a response.

Ros's 2008 BOTY for best use of social networking

Firstly, a declaration of interest. As mentioned, I have written for Liberal Democrat Voice in the past, predominantly on issues relating to the internal bureaucracy of the Party, and mostly because I'm one of the Party's very few bloggers who specialises in such stuff. I've generally used LDV as a means to convey information or report back on events - you would be amazed at how difficult it is to do so by any other means as an elected representative. I am, technically, the bureaucracy correspondent - Mark Pack asked me to do it, I contributed three pieces and then, to be blunt, lost interest (it really is fearfully dull for the most part). I've also been guest editor for the day - I might even do it again one day, if I can be organised enough, and they'll have me.

And yet, I have never won an award. If Lisa is right, I should feel pretty hard done by. I've been blogging for six years, been shortlisted three times, once for best post and now twice for best blog by a Liberal Democrat holding public office. C'est la vie, as they say. Frankly, I'm rather surprised to have been nominated at all - I wouldn't describe myself as a blogger who sets the heather on fire, more someone who is broadly respected as a stalwart denizen of the Liberal Democrat blogosphere.

I assume that the judges, a fairly diverse crew this year as in years past, express their views and have a system that synthesises those views into a final outcome. If Stephen Tall is to be believed, and despite his occasionally shocking taste in outfits, and excessive displays of chest hair, I tend to, they actually do. And, their decision is final, no matter how personally disappointing I may find that (and I certainly wouldn't turn down an award if one came my way).

I don't attack those people who do win. Indeed, even if their blog is not to my personal taste, I like to think that I can admire the quality of the writing, or recognise the influence that they have had. It is also entirely legitimate to disagree with the decision of the judges - it is, at the end of the day, their decision and not yours or mine. But to slag off a winner in such personal terms because you don't like them very much, or you find their work boring, is the height of boorishness. It is also entirely hypocritical to slag someone off and then deny them the right to reply, only to report on your rather biased interpretation of their response.

Lisa won't like this, I suspect. She'll probably be rather rude in response. But then, people can be in cyberspace - I perhaps have a better grasp of that than most. And, to her credit, she is at least rude in person, rather than hiding behind a pseudonym. It isn't much credit though, and her behaviour is hardly pitched in such a way as to make me warm to her. It does reassure me, however, that she won't care about that one jot...

On not bring (t)here

Another advantage of not being at Conference is that I have no plans to do anything. This means that Ros and I can pretty much come and go as we please. So we have.

We voted on the Lords Reform motion, I voted for, and Liberal Democrats for Lords Reform can find out themselves how Ros voted. Ros has been tagged by various people to talk about I know not what, whilst I smile sweetly and potter gently. I'm quite good at these things, if I say so myself.

And then we had dinner, Indian, which was very nice, before heading to the East of England Reception (too hot, no chairs) and, in my case, the Lib Dem Voice Blog of the Year Awards ceremony. A glass of wine with friends, and it was time to sleep...