Selection Rules: From triumph to disaster and back again

I've been a bit busy with another election recently, but have managed to find time to observe those elections actually underway, and they've really been quite interesting.

In the Mayoral selection for London, we've had the first hustings - in Brighton. I have to give credit to those who came up with the idea of holding it, as the coverage was far better than the 'official' one is likely to be, and the press clearly lapped it up. Perhaps it is a mite unfortunate that running alongside the European selections has meant that at least one candidate has the dubious pleasure of having to comply with two sets of Rules which clearly contradict each other...

Meanwhile, one of the European candidates has had a picture of himself and his lovely wife ruled out of order due to her status as a notable member of the Party. That'll teach him to marry a baroness... hmm, perhaps I ought to move along at this point...

This brings me to news of an interesting development. Endorsements have been something of a problem for Returning Officers over the years, and the simple to administrate notion of banning them altogether has been traditionally favoured. However, in an age of Facebook, blogs and e-forums both private and public, policing has become virtually impossible. In my conversations with some fairly senior Returning Officers, it has become clear that there is a real consensus that the 'no endorsement' restriction is dead in the water and moves will follow shortly to have it struck from the Selection Rules. This will simply the campaigning phase beyond recognition, as it will in turn allow links to other websites - yes, another regulation gone.

One advantage of having a former European candidate in close proximity is that you do tend to hear the other side of the argument more clearly, and I have increasingly become discomforted by the paradox whereby we, as a Party, talk about over-regulation and the need for a 'bonfire of directives' whilst simultaneously adding more and more clauses to our Selection Rules.

So, we have an opening gambit in the quest for simpler, more effective Selection Rules. Is there anyone else willing to storm the barricades?

Still award-free after all these years

As a senior Lib Dem blogger (that's senior in terms of age, not status or gravitas), I was particularly pleased to see a few forty-somethings and more get shortlisted in the various categories of the 2007 Lib Dem Blog of the Year Awards. I was even more delighted to be nominated in the category of best posting, especially as I've never considered myself to be at the standard of some of my colleagues, in terms of content and ideas, at least.

This blog is unusual, in that it focuses on structures, processes and internal 'stuff', or at least it did until fairly recently. My subject matter is, therefore, not really targeted at an external, non-Lib Dem audience, and my nomination, for a piece where I nailed my still-beating, slightly bloodied heart to my sleeve in response to a Conservative Party policy review, came as a bit of a surprise.

Whilst I didn't win an award, I was touched by the kind words of my fellow bloggers and of readers, some of whom posted quite poignant comments of their own experiences, and as I noted at the time, if my candour has helped anyone, no matter how much or how little, it will make the time I spend on this blog worthwhile.

The blog has been helpful to me in terms of allowing me an outlet for my thoughts, a forum for floating ideas, a means for my far flung family to keep in touch and, occasionally, a way to express my view on those issues that impact on me personally. It can be a bit self-indulgent, and I freely acknowledge that, but as an insight into the bureaucracy, I hope that it has entertained, enlightened and enabled...

There's something happening here, what it is ain't exactly clear...

Ten weeks ago, I was an inveterate townie, whose viewpoint of the countryside was that it made an excellent place to keep things that I could eat (cows, pigs, chickens and the like), the view out of the window on train journeys more interesting and generally filled the gaps between places I have to go to for meetings.

You can therefore imagine my surprise when I found myself sitting in a meeting of the delegation for the forthcoming ELDR Congress in Berlin, arguing for an amendment to a sustainable transport resolution to reflect the needs of rural communities. I admit that there were some slightly puzzled looks around the table when they realised that such comments were coming from the delegate from the achingly rural constituency of Dulwich and West Norwood (we have parks - apparently).

However, spending time with Ros, and especially our weekends in Suffolk, have brought home how dominated the political agenda is by the big urban communities, especially London. The choice agenda, for example, fails to consider the likelihood that effective choice can be offered in rural communities, when schools may be five or more miles apart, when transport links are sparse (bus services that run once a month are not uncommon in the smaller villages), and where demand is slight in numerical terms but critical to the individuals concerned.

Another aspect of my approach that has changed is that I've rediscovered a bit of passion in terms of my politics. Bureaucracy and passion, as I've remarked in the past, don't generally go hand in hand, but Ros's approach, which is very outcome driven, has caused me to re-evaluate why I do things, and how the things that I do impact on others. I am reminded that I entered politics because I wanted to make things better, not simply to run things better (although this is, in itself, not an unlaudable aim).

It is curious how being in a relationship, and being obliged to think about someone else's needs, not just your own, makes you rethink the way that you see the world.

A terribly British crisis - cynicism and queueing

I've been somewhat disappointed by the reaction of the public and politicians to the Northern Rock crisis.

Ros and I were walking towards the Conference Centre when we encountered a long queue trailing past a branch of Lloyds TSB from what turned out to be the local branch of the Northern Rock. We'd seen the pictures in the media, but not actually experienced it in the flesh. What was most surprising was the apparent calm in which those in the queue were waiting. There were few signs of hysteria or panic, and one must assume that staff were patiently dealing with those in the queue.

Given the levels of personal saving amongst the population at large, it seems unlikely that many of those in the queue were likely to lose huge sums even if the Northern Rock was to fail, given the minimum guaranteed protections given to depositors. And yet the panic is on, and nothing seems able to stem the tide.

The response of politicians has been fairly woeful, and ironically, their lack of impact has been the result of their own unthinking disrespect for the electorate. When Alastair Darling tells the public that they have nothing to fear, voters remember what has happened to their pensions and to their tax bills, and respond with unfortunately justifiable cynicism.

Politicians have a responsibility to treat the public like adults. If they do, the public have a responsibility to behave accordingly. Sadly, this Government, and Her Majesty's Opposition, seem to be determined to spin themselves into oblivion, and take the credibility of politicians and politics itself with them...

EXCLUSIVE: There might really be a Presidential contest next year!

Now I freely accept that, for this particular correspondent, the logo has a fairly obvious rationale. However, it has just taken on a whole new significance. Yes, Ros is running for the position of Party President next year, and I am incredibly proud to endorse her candidacy, for more than just the obvious reason.

The Presidency is, for most members, a little understood role, being seen as the person who visits Local Parties, eats dinner, makes the rallying speeches, and is a public face for the Party. Indeed, all this is true, but barely scratches the surface of the job.

One key role is that of chairing the Federal Executive. This requires organisation, preparation and focus and, as I have learned from watching my own Regional Executive, it isn't easy. In particular, managing egos, personal agendas and conflicting demands requires vast reservoirs of tact, diplomacy and resolve. Ros has led a County Council under coalition circumstances, and has hard, practical experience of taking tough decisions under pressure. In the House of Lords, she has laboured tirelessly to oppose legislation that is highly technical, massively complex and, frankly, desperately poorly drafted, with limited administrative support. She leads a team with enormous individual credibility and is respected by them.

Another role, which has been little exercised in recent years, is that of representing the ordinary members and activists within the highest levels of the Party, if you like, to be a honest broker when things are difficult. During the darkest days of last winter, there was nobody who could credibly go to Charles Kennedy and say, "Nothing personal, Charles, but perhaps it's time to go, whilst you can retain your dignity?".

That brings me to another reason why Ros would make a good President. As a member of the House of Lords, she has no further political ambition, and no agenda, other than the satisfaction of doing a good job. Had she been President in late 2005 and early 2006, she could have done what Simon Hughes, for example, could never have done, without being seen to have a personal interest.

So watch out for the logo, coming to a badge near you soon!

7.45 a.m., somewhere in Stonebridge

God, I'm lonely. I've been telling outside a polling station since 7 a.m. And the number of voters so far? Nil. Democracy at its finest...

Ah well, at least the sun is shining...

Ming Campbell: does being a Liberal Democrat mean never having to accept the result?

As Conference arrives, and the background rumbling for and against Ming Campbell’s leadership continues, I am moved to think about what I want from the Party leadership and, equally important, from my fellow activists (the Daily Telegraph called me an activist, and who am I to doubt them?). Now don’t get me wrong, this won’t be an attack or defence of the reign of Ming the Merciless, or of any named individual, more a reflection on the hows, whys and wherefores of ‘power’.

I didn’t vote for Ming, opting instead to support Chris Huhne. I thought that he demonstrated a greater sense of radicalism – and don’t let those on the ‘left’ of our Party fool anyone that they have the copyright on that word – and would argue cogently for a coherent philosophy. I didn’t mind Ming particularly, felt that he would be a safe pair of hands, and accordingly gave him my second preference as an insurance policy. And so Ming won, having convinced armchair members that, after the convulsions of the Kennedy ‘assassination’, his measured approach was what the Party needed. I was disappointed, but the members had spoken, and as any good democrat should, I accepted the outcome.

Since then, the mutterings have started, less surprisingly, from some of those who voted for Chris or for Simon Hughes, and then, less edifyingly, from some who voted for Ming, and seem to be surprised that, having voted for a safe pair of hands, that is exactly what they got. However, regardless of the background for their dissatisfaction, I am puzzled by the public vitriol with which the debate has been carried out, the defensiveness with which we’ve handled external criticism, and the apparent lack of political nous from some elements of our ranks.

The Conservatives have been quite aggressive in their condemnation of Ming, and have picked on him for his age, his relative docility and approach to Prime Ministers’ Questions. It may not be rocket science but why are we surprised? They don’t like us, they never have done, and they never will. And frankly, given our glee at the increasing signs of dissent on ConservativeHome and the like, why do we think that our own displays of dissent don’t bring joy to the hearts of Conservatives?

Yes, be unhappy with Ming all you like, but try to do so within the context in which he was elected. The membership wanted an Edinburgh lawyer with a safe pair of hands, and that is what they got. To then demand that he demonstrate flair, adventure and radicalism seems grossly unfair, even if that is what you wanted in the first place. Having your own public platform, and having a blog linked to the Aggregator gives you exactly that, obliges one to demonstrate a degree of restraint. As a rule (not unfailingly adhered to, I confess), I tend to think about the impact on external, i.e. non-Liberal Democrat, readers, especially in terms of how my words might be interpreted.

And naturally, for the 99%+ of Liberal Democrats who don’t blog, or at least if they do, don’t blog for a ‘mass’ audience, the frustration when one of our number get picked up by the wider media in a negative light is huge. For example, my fellow colleagues fighting the Stonebridge by-election would be highly unimpressed if I made a public statement condemning the Council Group, and not unreasonably so. In fact, many senior Liberal Democrats think that what we do is indulgent and a use of time better spent on winning elections.

So, what do I want from a leader? Well, I want to be inspired, whether by his/her rhetoric or by their example. I want them to be able to articulate what we stand for with conviction and consistency. I don’t want them to get too involved in the machinery of the Party’s internal workings – we have a President and a Chief Executive for that – although encouragement for the bureaucracy to reflect the Party’s core philosophy would be nice. In turn, the Party has to develop and, more importantly, consistently express those themes best designed to attract voters to liberal democracy. It isn’t just about the leader, you know, it’s about what he/she is able to say.

And next time we have to elect a leader, think about what you want from him or her, decide if any of the candidates reflect sufficient of that to merit your support, and go out there and actively campaign for them. Armchair members of our Party tend towards supporting the safe pair of hands, unless someone gives them reason to think differently. That someone might be you. How about it?

You're not in Kansas now, Dorothy...

I made a special journey up to Needham Market last night to attend the Annual Dinner of Bury St Edmunds Liberal Democrats, the first leg of my Local Party odyssey this weekend.

After a journey described by many as 'typical for One Railway', I arrived a mere one hour late (ah, now I understand the significance of the name!) but just in time to get fed and hear the guest speaker, Dorothy Thornhill, our only elected Mayor, who had graciously driven up from Watford to entertain us.

I have to admit that I was impressed, not just by her speech, which was excellent, but by her passion and enthusiasm for doing the job, and serving the people of Watford. Quite often, I wonder about the philosophical roots of some of our elected representatives (at all levels!) and her willingness to accept responsibility, engage her electorate and take hard decisions really made me feel that, if we must have elected Mayors, they ought to have her approach to the job.
The audience clearly enjoyed her talk, and a series of interesting questions followed.

Dorothy had originally planned to stay overnight at Ros's (our first house guest as a couple!) but had to drive back to Watford at the end of the dinner (something to do with a skip and a ward clean-up, I was led to understand). As a result, she missed the raffle draw. Having been introduced to all present, I was asked to draw the first winning ticket and, saying how embarassing it would be if I drew one of Ros's numbers, I promptly did just that to much amusement.

So, another lovely evening in my new Local Party. Tonight, 'Pizza and Politics' in Dulwich & West Norwood...

Look Ma, I'm on top of the world!

It will come as no surprise to many that this blog was never really intended to be a must-read news source for anyone seeking enlightenment about what Liberal Democrats are thinking and why. Originally, the intention was to allow my family to know what I was up to and where. But then, having realised that most of the things I do are related to the Party, it seemed logical, if a mite vain, to link to Lib Dem Blogs.

Still, given that my subject matter tends to either my ceaseless efforts to negate your attempts to save the planet, or the bureaucracy of the Party, I never envisaged a significant readership or any plaudits.

And so, it is with some surprise that I find that I have been nominated, and short listed, for the award for 'Best Posting on a Lib Dem Blog'. Ironically, I've written entries that have been more widely read (my recent entry on Susanne Lamido topped the 'Golden Ton' last month, and I managed two more entries in the top thirty) but have been nominated for a gallant attempt to nail my heart to my sleeve.

There is some truly great writing scattered across the Liberal Democrat blogworld, and I tend to feel rather intimidated by the quality and gravity of the ideas being debated, so I am deeply moved to be considered worthy of shortlisting. I will be at the awards ceremony, and am looking forward to congratulating the winners. Whoever they are, they'll have worked damned hard to earn it...

More proof that Conservatives don't 'get' public services

I tend to take a keen interest in policy pronouncements related to public services, and was particularly interested to see that the Conservative review group had reported back. Sadly, disappointment reared its ugly head all too soon.

It seems that there are only three public services, health, education and social housing. I presume this is to ensure that their supporters can be protected against outbreaks of plague, that young people can be taught respect for their elders and betters, and so poor, ugly people don't litter the streets and are hidden far away from decent society, i.e. Conservative voters.

But seriously, I'm not all that bothered about their policies on these issues. What really annoys me is the inference that these three aspects are the only public services that actually matter.

In fairness though, none of the major political parties have a particularly great record on public services and the civil service. Here, in summary, are their views;

Labour - like public services, especially in poor, mainly northern and Scottish, constituencies. Don't like civil servants - apparently we scratch their backs a little too vigorously?

Conservatives - apparently like them, but seem to prefer tax cuts to actually paying for them. Choice taken to its ultimate level perhaps?

Liberal Democrats - love public services, happy to pay for them but civil servants are such a problem. Why don't they come in nice pastel shades and in smaller numbers?

Greens - don't really care as long as they're GM-free, recyclable and come from sustainable communities.

Scottish Nationalists - English? Go home, a Scottish civil service for an independent Scotland!

Plaid Cymru - must be delivered in Welsh on demand. That's lovely, isn't it?

UKIP - save the pound!

This was a public service announcement on behalf of the 'Save the Civil Servant Fund'.

EXCLUSIVE: Empress denies liaison with bureaucrat!

It always saddens me when the political equivalent of the tabloid press insist on creating non-stories. However, the media speculation linking me to young Mr Valladares needs to be quoshed for once and for all.

I've known Mark for quite sometime, although I really can't recall how we came to meet. I do vaguely remember a seminar in Aarhus, Denmark, at a time when I was President of the Amaranth Young Liberals, but I could be mistaken (there was an awful lot of alcohol, if my memory serves).

Needless to say, it was clear even then that his interest in ring binders could only end in tears, and Ludwig and I felt obliged to take him under our wing, so to speak.

It has been difficult at times, I confess, but his recent flowering has been of great satisfaction to all of us here in Amaranth.

His life partner is, I feel, an excellent choice, and he will thrive, given her reputation and renown. I've been meaning to talk to her on a personal matter for some time, and now I have a good excuse to do so.

And now I really must dash, whitewater rafting can't be done to Olympic standards without practice, you know...

Keeping the candidates honest?

I'm particularly proud of the innovative e-forum created for the European Parliamentary selections. As a repeat Returning Officer, I've gradually reduced the number of physical hustings from nine in 1998, to five in 2003, to four this year. To be blunt, they are incredibly ineffectual, with low turnouts for the most part, take up large amounts of Returning Officer and candidate time, cost valuable money, and are difficult to manage.

I thought that an e-hustings would give more members an opportunity to find out more about the various applicants, allow easier access at more convenient times, and give candidates an opportunity to give detailed, thoughtful answers. Admittedly, interest is fairly low at the moment, but will improve once the ballot papers goes out with the manifestos. The content is quite interesting already, with some lively debate underway in London, in particular, and I encourage you to take part and give the candidates some food for thought.

Returning to the hustings themselves however, I have always wondered when candidates would draw the conclusion that their time would be much more effectively spent on personal canvassing instead. Assuming a candidate has an average of three hours driving time to and from the venue, and spends ninety minutes there, how many people are they effectively reaching? Given that the average attendance was about sixty last time, and you could probably easily telephone that many people in that time, how does the 'cost/benefit analysis' play out? On the other hand, if attendance is better this year, the numbers may shift. Who can tell?...

21st century bureaucrat (part 2)

As many of you will be aware, I suffer from a tendancy to avoid technology.

Obviously, I have a PC at home, all the better to carry out the evils of liberal bureaucracy, and those of you who frequent this blog on a regular basis may recall that I obtained a laptop, allowing me to take the concept as far away as Vanuatu.

And now, let fear be unconfined! This blog entry comes to you live from a bus on route PR2, courtesy of my brand new, ultra shiny BlackBerry 8300.

For someone who has barely used a mobile phone before, the existence of such things comes as a bit of a revelation, but it is the future of the Spanish Inquisition, sorry, liberal bureaucracy...

It would appear that my faceless days are numbered…

Ros and I had considered whether or not we should ‘announce’ our engagement, and had not entirely concluded as to what we should do or where (when you reach our age, you do tend to be more traditionalist…). However, someone very kindly appears to have taken the decision for us.

I received a telephone call from Ros, advising me to check out the Daily Telegraph, and through the magic of the internet, and the Telegraph’s pretty good e-version, I found the following:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/opinion/main.jhtml?xml=/opinion/2007/08/23/dp2301.xml

I have been accused of many things in the past, but ‘wonderfully soppy’ hadn’t been one of them, at least until now…

Research from the University of the Bleeding Obvious indicates…

I am now regularly woken to the dulcet tones of the Today programme on Radio 4, and a means to get the blood pumping in the morning, it’s hard to beat.

However, I can tell that it’s still summer by two pieces of research that were highlighted yesterday and today. The first was released on Monday, indicating that those born to poorer parents were more likely to live their lives in poverty. I almost fell off of the bed in sheer astonishment, let me tell you. Gosh, do you think that politicians should be told?

Today, I learned that rock stars have a higher mortality rate than you and I. Apparently, the mortality rate for performers is three times higher than the norm in the five years after they achieve chart success. Perhaps they could have read the tabloid press to discover this, and maybe that was where their research came from.

But my favourite aspect to the latter story is the hope expressed by Professor Mark Bellis, of Liverpool John Moores University, that they can tame the sex, drugs and rock’n’roll lifestyle that leads to so many early deaths. Whatever happened to ‘live fast, die young’?*

*Please note that this blog does not condone the use of drugs. Sex and rock'n'roll are, however, encouraged if partaken of sensibly...

Welcome to Suffolk, Faceless Bureaucrat!

I've been juggling two Local Parties for some months now, Dulwich & West Norwood, where I lived for so many years and am Membership Secretary, and Brent Borough, where I now live and am Secretary. And now I kind of have a third, so step forward Bury St Edmunds Liberal Democrats!

Ros and I threw a small cocktail party for some of her oldest friends on Saturday evening, as much to renew old friendships as to introduce me to Suffolk Liberal Democrat society. I say 'Ros and I' although Ros did all of the hard work (supported ably by Sally and Jamie) whilst I spent a blissfully happy afternoon up to my elbows on hot, soapy water doing dishes.

I admit to being a Londoner from head to toe, and have spent my political life watching the melee that is politics there. Suffolk is, on the surface at least, rather gentler but I am entranced by the warmth and rooted nature of politics there. In fact, I might almost be tempted to run for public office there, were it not for the minor difficulty caused by my London residence.

A group of Ros's oldest and dearest political friends were able to join us, and whilst I was a mite nervous (there is always a sense, conscious or otherwise, that you are being judged), they were incredibly welcoming. I hope that I can repay their faith in the years ahead, and look forward to spending time with them, either individually or collectively, as the opportunity arises.

The evening ended with a small group of us, Jamie, his girlfriend Lisa, Ros's sister Ann, the neighbours Marcus and Nikki and the two of us singing to the accompaniment of Marcus and Jamie on guitar under a dark sky. It may be the romance talking, but evenings like this put the bureaucracy into perspective...

Bureaucrats and musicals

I like culture, and could debate policy on the issue for hours. In fact, in an earlier life, I was the European Liberal Youth representative on an ELDR Commission on the subject (after eighteen months, we had reached a broad consensus on the definition of the word 'culture', at which point it was decided to suspend the Commission...). However, I am ashamed to admit that most of the movies I see appear on 6" screens on seatbacks in aeroplanes.

So, when Ros indicated that she quite fancied going to see 'Hairspray' and that it was showing in Ipswich, I was sufficiently intrigued to take up the invitation. We could stop on the way back to London, grab dinner at a local restaurant afterwards, and still be home in Kingsbury by a reasonable time, so why not?

And a very good decision it turned out to be, too. John Travolta's performance as a woman, complete with fat suit, was quite the funniest thing I've seen for a long time, and his number with Christopher Walken, playing 'her' husband, was a blast, indeed they both looked as though they were thoroughly enjoying it. With Michelle Pfeiffer playing the evil mother role to hammed-up perfection, and a cast of enthusiastic and talented young actors, it was a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

It even comes with a political message, as it is set during the early sixties, when segregation by race was still common in many American cities (the movie is set in Baltimore, Maryland). The message is conveyed with humour but an underlying sense that justice must prevail, and I recommend it to you wholeheartedly.

A new sense of focus. If only AOL and BT could match it...

I have already confessed to a loss of focus in recent weeks and, in truth, this had been a problem for some time, entirely unconnected to Ros. However, inspired by the need to be there for her, I've been working on getting things in order, a task which has been made unexpectedly more difficult by technology.

Since moving home, I've had broadband difficulties, in that I haven't had it. I fully accepted that, by moving house, there would be a loss of service, and took what I thought were the necessary steps with AOL to facilitate the changeover. After a few weeks, Ros made the point that I should have received an e-mail telling me that I now had my services back, so I called AOL to find out what was happening.

I was told that there was a tag on the line, and that my request for renewed broadband services had lapsed. Understandably, I was somewhat disappointed that they had not seen fit to tell me that such a problem existed, especially considering that they provide me with an e-mail address. However, being a pragmatic soul, I asked what would be required to progress matters, to be told that I needed to call BT and ask them to remove the tag, evidently put there by a former user of the line.

So, fortified by a sense of progress, albeit delayed, I rang BT, or at least tried to. A number of attempts to speak to someone (anyone?) foundered on the rocks of their apparent inability to sufficiently staff their helplines, but eventually I reached someone who, clearly irritiated by the fact that I had actually scaled each of the barriers placed before me, told me that AOL were wholly wrong, and that they (AOL) would have to ring BT Wholesale to seek the removal of the tag.

A decidedly unimpressed bureaucrat then rang AOL, who promised that they would ring BT Wholesale after the Bank Holiday weekend (by this time, it was 6 p.m. on the Friday evening, and BT Wholesale had clearly gone home to harass old ladies or whatever) but that I would have to ring them on the Tuesday morning to remind them to do so.

I'd had a lovely weekend in Shropshire with Ros, and returned to the 'real world' on the Tuesday morning, newly invigorated, so I rang AOL who, keeping me on the line, rang BT Wholesale, who in turn generously told them that they wouldn't talk to the service provider and insisted on talking to me. Another phone call to make, and a slightly less invigorated bureaucrat rang a special BT line, expecting the worst.

But lo, I found a very polite young man at the other end of the line, who explained what the issue was, and what needed to be done (it's apparently very technical and I couldn't possibly explain it to you). He couldn't do it himself, but would e-mail his technical team, indicating the urgency of the matter (by this time, I'd gone thirty-nine days without broadband).

I asked if he could copy me in on the e-mail, only to be told that he'd done that in the past, and been strongly discouraged from doing so by management, a sad indictment of modern day customer service, if ever I saw one. However, he assured me that the matter would be progressed quickly, and suggested that I call back on Thursday to check on progress. I then rang AOL, explained the position, and was told that they would put a rotating order on record, that would be reviewed every forty-eight hours and, if the line was now open, the order for services would be placed.

On Thursday, I rang BT, only to be told that the order status was inconclusive. The equally helpful young man said that he would have the matter looked into, and that I might want to call again on Monday to be reassured.

Another idyllic weekend passed in deepest Suffolk, and I returned to the fray this morning. Miracle of miracles, BT confirmed that the tag was gone, AOL advised that they have now placed the order, which now includes faster broadband (6MB, whatever that means and please don't try to explain, it makes my head hurt...), free evening and weekend telephone calls (which might yet prove very useful indeed) and a bunch of other stuff. With any luck, I should have broadband up just in time to go to Brighton where, naturally, it won't be of any use at all...

Technology, isn't it marvellous?

A frustrated Returning Officer writes…

Elsewhere in the blogosphere, there are mutterings about the European selections and, as one of the Returning Officers, perhaps I should comment (actually, I’m going to anyway…).

Yes, candidates aren’t allowed to attack each other, because we have anti-defamation rules. Frankly, I would be perfectly happy to see candidates attack each other’s records, especially if they have a record which merits it. I also see no difficulty with policy or strategy disagreements, in principle. Such an approach would make my life easier as Returning Officer, although I am leaning towards a concept of putting the candidates in an armoury, bolting the doors from the outside and then leaving them for a week or so…

There are four issues that make this less than desirable;

• A more assertive dynamic requires the right to respond, and the limitations of cost and access make this less than viable, except on the e-hustings forum.
• An aggressively fought selection provides ammunition to our opponents – this may be an internal process but you had better believe that, in particular the Tories, they are watching with interest.
• We’re apparently a jolly nice bunch of people (apparently, we are - despite some of the evidence to the contrary).
• People who seem like perfectly charming individuals become pedantic, nit-picking über-bureaucrats when faced with an opportunity to get elected (and I like to think that I know what I'm talking about here).

So far, I’ve had a rash of complaints about websites (and which part of ‘links are not allowed except for those specifically authorised’ is so difficult?), and about an Annual Report (yes, it was permissible, yes it did comply with the Selection Rules as far as they applied, and no, I didn’t have authority over it).

I’ve noted that, on one hand, the Rules are too restrictive, but on the other, we should have more rules about MEP communication. We've tried to free up campaigning as far as possible, and I propose to spend desperately little time staring endlessly at candidate websites unless forced to. That's what self-regulation is all about, after all.

Amidst all of the bickering, it would be really nice if a campaign broke out and so, on that note, I'm going to prepare for a weekend in Suffolk being a normal(ish) human being... and you never know, I might encounter one of East of England's potential candidates...

A weekend away, and a return to the real world

Ros and I were in need of a break, and she wanted to take me to see a part of the country that is close to her heart, so we set off on Saturday morning for Shropshire, and a cosy little bed and breakfast.

I must admit to having spent time in Shropshire only to get somewhere else, and bearing in mind the frequent references to the county in the works of Jonathan Calder, was more than a little intrigued. And I have to say, the area around Church Stretton is really rather gorgeous. We walked and drove around the Long Mynd, where the heather and gorse are in full flower, visited Bishop’s Castle, Montgomery and Ludlow, and generally wandered around in the sunshine wondering why people don’t do this more often.

On the way back, we passed through Broadway (a bit twee for my taste, if truth be told) and stopped in Moreton in Marsh for tea, noting the extent of the flood damage there, before reaching home in good time.

There is only one problem with that sort of idyllic weekend though, which is the difficulty encountered in returning to ‘real life’. I do have rather a lot to do at the moment, and there is a very strong temptation to just throw up one’s hands and say, if it is that important, somebody else will do it. Unfortunately, painful experience reminds me that they won’t, they’ll simply moan about it. Ah well, back to work…

Bureaucrat in love: now the story can be told...

Regular readers will have noted that Radio Bureaucrat has been an infrequent broadcaster of late, and the occasional cryptic reference will not have done anything to help explain it. So it is about time that I explained.

Put simply, I fell in love. I fell absolutely, completely and utterly head over heels in love when I least expected it, with someone I could not have possibly envisaged beforehand. Our relationship was kindled gradually, if falteringly, partly due to my rather gauche inability to read signs that aren't actually tattooed on my forehead, before blossoming into an all-encompassing passion that quite swept me off of my feet.

"Who is this magical soul?", I hear you ask. So without further ado, let me introduce my new fiancee, Ros Scott. A lightning romance has been followed by an equally lightning proposal (it would have been sooner but for my usual hesitancy in such matters), and plans are reaching the drawing board for a wedding some time next year (yes, I know, you normally think about all of those things first but I was only focused on forever...).

Ros has managed to free the bureaucrat from the box, and I love her for it. She is warm, tender, thoughtful and so many other things that words cannot properly convey, and has made me feel alive for the first time for a very long time indeed.

The side effect was that I became functionally useless for a few weeks, and for those of you who have been expecting me to do something (and you know who you are), I apologise but hope that you'll understand (you will, I know). On the plus side, I've now become incredibly focused in an incredibly vital way, having had my proposal accepted, and things are beginning to happen in an amazingly ordered and disciplined way.

So, for my friends, family and colleagues, welcome to the future. I'm in love, and I want the world to know it. Many of you have been part of the process that has allowed me to find happiness, and I am grateful to you all for your friendship, your support and your tolerance through a difficult phase in my life.

And now I ought to return to the blissful existence that is being in love...

Shock horror - another Labour minister who doesn't really get localism

Ros had returned to Suffolk, leaving me her copy of Prospect Magazine to read with the suggestion that I read an article by John Kay entitled “The failure of market failure”. Now, one of the things about being a bureaucrat is that ideas are something to be mildly suspicious of. However, I like to think of myself as being moderately informed so, this evening, I pulled the magazine out of my briefcase in the IKEA restaurant at Brent Park to read over dinner.

Unfortunately, as usual, I allowed myself to be distracted, and my attention was drawn to a piece by John Denham, entitled “Elect the inspectors”, in which he suggests that the “inspectocracy” isn’t working, and that inspectors should be accountable to local people, not ministers. He’s right (up to a point), but his conclusion is a rather odd one, given that the power of inspectors is solely the creation of successive Conservative and Labour governments (John, you might recall that you share a collective responsibility for much of what has happened since 1997).

His example is that of tackling MRSA in NHS hospitals, where he notes that the responsibility body if a hospital trust is failing to meet the required standards lies with a group of appointees, unlikely to be sacked except in extremis. And this is where his argument seems to be flawed. On one hand, he says that we should elect the people who are meant to respond to the inspectors’ reports, in this instance the hospital trust board. In the next paragraph, however, he starts by saying, “We don’t need new elected bodies for this job”. I’m clearly missing something here, but he goes on to suggest that local councils should scrutinise local services, noting that they already hold the power to do so.

Apart from the seemingly obvious contradiction here, I have to say that I don’t actually agree with him. The question of who employs the inspectors is quite important, and their independence is the best way to guarantee that they provide honest data. What is actually needed instead is a clear, public statement of the criteria to be used by the inspector/inspection team, in advance of them starting work. In turn, the criteria should be based on those goals set out by the local council or other elected authority, and the results published in a manner most accessible to the community.

A good inspector will examine those elements most likely to influence an outcome, and a bad one will do just about enough to avoid trouble. However, if they are directly accountable to those whose work they are scrutinising, there will inevitable be a trend towards saying what local elected officials want to hear, rather than what they, and more importantly, the public, need to know. I look forward to having John Denham reassure me on this point, but I'm not going to hold my breath waiting…

Normal service will be restored... eventually

As you know, we in Amaranth have long been fond of Mark, for all of his foibles, inconsistencies, and puzzling eccentricities, and some of you will recall that we had planned to take him in hand and carry out a few 'improvements'. To be blunt, we hadn't had much success, and I was deeply concerned that he was regressing rather badly.

So you can imagine my surprise to run into him in the library in the East Wing, looking surprisingly chipper, a smile on his face, and a map of the United Kingdom under his arm. "I can't find this place on the map at all," he said, eyes sparkling, "but it probably doesn't matter anyway.". "Maybe I can help?", I offered, but he was gone. leaving behind only the memory of a smile.

Curiouser and curiouser...

Anyone could lose 189,000 AK-47's, really they could...

I'm vaguely intrigued over the fuss that has been made over the news that US forces in Iraq have 'misplaced' huge amounts of equipment, and that it is probably being used against those very same US troops by insurgents.

Firstly, this American administration probably has less interest in gun control than any of its predecessors. They, and I am particularly reminded of Dick Cheney in this regard, really aren't keen on the idea of licensing guns, so why on Earth would they be interested in keeping tabs of weaponry anywhere else?

Secondly, and rather more seriously, it was always likely to be the case that any internal Iraqi security force was going to need to be armed by the Americans. Frankly, conditions are not ideal for bureaucrats (we don't like to be shot at, as a rule), and quartermaster skills are probably not at the levels we would expect from the British Army. In addition, losses through desertion (sometimes in sizable numbers, as at Falluja), death or simply cowardice, were always likely to be significant. Add the impact of infiltration by the Al-Sadr militia, potential insurgents and of corruption, always a risk in a society where moral standards have been debased over a generation or more, and the figure of 189,000 almost seems laughable.

The Americans have always had a tendency to be sloppy over supplies and armaments. From Vanuatu after World War 2, where they dumped huge amounts of equipment from Jeeps to toasters into the harbour, rather than give them away, to Nicaragua, where they illegally co-operated with the Iranians to arm the Contras, to modern day Iraq, the desire to 'make friends (albeit rather dodgy ones) and influence people (the less said, the better here, I suspect)' has led to a charmingly frivolous approach to arms distribution, with the inevitable aftereffects.

It merely goes to show that having too much money can be worse than not having enough, as at least you learn the value for frugality and prudence from the latter...

Havard Hughes - recollections and a touch of regret

News reaches me that my recent opponent for the job of Regional Secretary, Havard Hughes, has defected to the Conservatives - which indicates that my beloved Regional Party dodged a bullet there. For those out there who voted for him, and against me, I promise not to make barbed comments about your judgement...

But seriously, I do have some regrets about the loss of a pretty decent person from our ranks. Havard and I go back to the time he arrived in Brent, just prior to his becoming a councillor in Alperton ward. People spoke quite highly of him at the time, although his ability to maintain commitment levels was questionable even then.

If he has a weakness, it is an inability to pick battles that he can win. His increasingly quixotic attempts to gain election to English and Federal committees by challenging individuals widely regarded as popular and effective, rather than the weaker alternatives, became more and more puzzling. On the other hand, Havard is a pretty likeable kind of guy, polite, bright, well-spoken and always friendly. I couldn't even get particularly angry with him for trying to take over from me as Secretary - I had, after all, invited challenges via this blog. 

He's picked an interesting time to join the Conservatives, and perhaps he had been made an offer that he felt he couldn't refuse. At least he will add to the number of Conservatives who we can 'do business with', assuming that he doesn't turn on his former allies, a temptation that I hope he can resist...

Be afraid, be very afraid - happy Returning Officer on the loose

The world is a bright, shiny place when you're a happy Returning Officer. The urge to be kind to candidates is overwhelming, you are at peace with your Selection Committee, and all is perfect in a perfect world.

It's the sort of happiness that is catching, in that I've taken to being nice to accountants, I smile at people for no adequately explained reason, and the weight is falling off - nine pounds in the past three weeks. If I was working out, or paying particular attention to my diet, it might be understandable, but I'm not (really).

And whilst I have a lot to do, I have this wonderful sense that it will all get done somehow...

Change, stress and confusion

I've been a little preoccupied over the past week, as I've moved house (finally). As a new resident of Brent, and an ex-resident of Southwark, there has been so much to do, things to pack - in my case with genuine ineptitude - forms to fill in and all the other stuff that you finally realise need to get done at 3.30 in the morning.

But I'm now cleared out of East Dulwich, and slowly establishing myself in Kingsbury. There is food in the refrigerator, new sofas in the living room and a new queen-size bed in the main bedroom. I'm slowly stocking the house with toiletries and boxes are occasionally unpacked.

Meantime, life goes on. In my usual style, I've tried to slot in a house move in the middle of the interview phase for two European candidate selections, South East, where I'm the Returning Officer, and London, where I'm on the selection committee itself. As far as I'm aware, nobody has attempted such a feat before, and it looks like I will be able to attend every interview session for both Regions bar one. As an aside, the interviews seem to be going pretty well so far, but you wouldn't expect me to give you any more detail than that, would you?

There has been another significant development in my life over the past three weeks, but I'll save that for another post...

Faith, love and understanding

Following yesterday's posting, I have been incredibly touched by the kindness of strangers in response. A close friend described it as like watching someone on a highwire without a safety net and I suppose that it was a bit exposed and uncomfortable.

In many ways, I've been incredibly fortunate in terms of family and friends, and I cannot stress too much how important they are in terms of regaining one's equilibrium. And I have now discovered that there are people out there who've had similar experiences and lived to tell the tale.

The comments of PragueTory are particularly touching, and provide evidence if ever it were needed that politics need not be solely tribal. I fully acknowledge that most Conservatives, like most Labour members (and indeed most Liberal Democrats), are thoroughly decent souls, who want a better society, care about people, and are responsive to their local communities. We differ in terms of method and outcome, but all care deeply for the societies around us.

So for all of you who have been hurt in the name of love, and for those of you who have been fortunate not to have been, might I wish you the best of luck in your relationships, and that you find (and keep) what you're looking for. Finding love is about taking risks, and having the courage to do so, and I am grateful that I've regained sufficient optimism to want to try again.

Once again, thank you to those who chose to comment, and who did so with such warmth...

A message to the Conservative Party - loss, desolation and redemption: how divorce impacts on lives

Further to my comments last week on Conservative proposals to repair the ‘broken society’, I am moved to take an opportunity to seek catharsis with regard to my own past. Those of you of a nervous disposition might wish to look away now…

I’m a bit of a poster child for how not to get divorced, and in the week when the last remnants of the breakdown of my relationship with Rachelle are finally swept away, I thought that it might be a good time to reflect on the events of the past fifteen or so years, in the hope that my words might save others from the fate that befell us.

In fairness, I don’t intend to allocate blame, one of the key messages I hope to convey. In hindsight, gloriously 20:20 in this instance, the writing had been on the wall for some time, and I was simply too blind, and in too much self-denial, to read it.

I fell in love with Rachelle gradually over a period of about a year, although with astonishing naivety, I didn’t actually work out what was happening for most of that period. We didn’t see an awful lot of each other, she was living in Brussels, I in London, but ran into each other at international young liberal events. Eventually, Rachelle took the initiative (a decision for which I was subsequently most grateful) and, after a lightning romance, we were married (I consider that four months from consummation to marriage meets the criteria for ‘lightning’).

For some time, we lived together happily enough. We had occasional differences of opinion, but no more than most couples do. Then, Rachelle’s political career took off exponentially. She became involved in the United Kingdom chapter of Democrats Abroad, the overseas ‘wing’ of the Democratic Party, and rapidly climbed through the ranks until, within six years, she became Chair of Democrats Abroad Worldwide, and with it a member of the Democratic National Committee. As Chair, she achieved more than any Democrat Abroad had ever done, attaining a status never before reached and influence far beyond that of her State Party.

I loved the fact that she had made it all happen through her own efforts, and was incredibly proud of her achievements. I followed her around the world, from Japan to Guatemala, from Australia to Canada, attending events, smiling sweetly, shaking hands and saying nothing even remotely controversial to anyone who might possibly object.

Unfortunately, the cracks had already started to appear. Rachelle was on the road for up to fifteen weeks a year, meeting local groups, attending conferences and playing with the big beasts of US Democratic Party politics. Her priority was to focus on that role, and when not doing politics, deliver upon her work contracts, all of which left little time for our relationship.

Instead of talking about it, I ducked the inevitable argument which would have followed had I done so. And that was the beginning of the end. All that I wanted was to be loved (a bit, I’m not that ‘high-maintenance’) but as time passed, I rather gave up hope that it would ever happen, and consequently began to care less than I had. The glue of mutual respect that bound us together began to lose its adhesiveness.

To cut a long story short, Rachelle eventually returned from yet another trip, and announced that she was leaving, and that we should undergo a six-month long trial separation. In my usual hapless manner, and possibly stunned by the unexpected turn of events, I agreed, and blithely let her go. And that, dear reader, was that.

I’m not generally the emotional type, and as someone not entirely confident as to where he fits in, I tend to hide my feelings behind a mask of my own creation (thus, Faceless Bureaucrat) and play a role that doesn’t encourage too much deep analysis. And so I allowed my own self-doubt to contribute to the loss of a relationship which, at the time, mattered to me deeply, all for the lack of will to really communicate. It has been an expensive lesson to learn, in every sense, the knowledge from which I intend to apply for the rest of my life.

The divorce itself was uncontested, as I had no desire to fight to save a marriage holed below the waterline, although despite this, it took a year for the decree absolute to come through, ironically two days before polling day in 2005. As agent for our Parliamentary candidate in Dulwich and West Norwood, it was perhaps a blessing that news didn’t reach me for another six weeks…

Curiously, no effort had been made to initiate moves towards a financial settlement, and I maintained a naïve hope that all could be dealt with amicably and quickly. Two years of increasingly vitriolic exchanges later, two firms of solicitors had made an astonishing sum of money, I had blocked Rachelle’s e-mails after a pair of wild threats of legal action to have me evicted from the family home, and I was older, wiser, poorer and considerably more cautious than ever before.

Let me assure our friends in the Conservative Party that divorce is not always done lightly. When I married Rachelle, I intended it to be forever - I remain true to my Catholic roots to that extent, at least. And, no matter how unhappy I might have felt, I would have felt obliged to stay and fight to save it, had there been even the faintest glimmer of hope that I might be successful. We were lucky in that we were childless (by choice, I hasten to add), and that nobody was seriously hurt, apart from us.

And yet there was collateral damage. Friends sometimes felt it necessary to make choices as to who they would see, family had to deal with my urge to audibly rationalise what was happening, work colleagues had to endure the occasional mood swing. A divorce, especially one where the two parties have been together for some time, and have a plethora of mutual friends, can be difficult for those around them, and I suspect that it raises the odd doubt in the mind of other married couples (“Are we like them? Are we in danger of making the same mistakes?”) – sowing the seeds of doubt in otherwise healthy relationships.

But the worst aspect of divorce is the rather desolate sense of failure that it engenders. The most important thing in your life has been lost, and you become prone to a sense of drift and a loss of self-belief which, in my case, took about two years to overcome. For that, I thank family and friends, without whose love and affection I would probably still be a subdued, introverted soul. My Party colleagues, who showed touching belief in me at a time when I didn’t have that much in myself, finished the reconstruction rather nicely, to the point where I can look into my future with hope and confidence.

Yes, divorce does come with tangible costs, and the Conservative Party, and Iain Duncan-Smith’s policy commission, are quite right to say so. But the intangible costs of keeping families together in a state of shared misery, are just as real, just as significant, and just as worthy of consideration. When you’re dealing with the emotions, you must always look beyond pounds and pence, to the psychological health and well-being of individuals, and I’m disappointed that a Party suddenly claiming to first believe in, and now care about, society cannot apparently see beyond the impact on the public purse…

Kiss me, and tell me that you'll stay forever

I always knew that there was a good reason why I wasn't a Conservative, but if ever I have doubts, I'll look back over the past two days and find that reason engraved on my heart.

I've been married and, on the whole, it is an institution that I broadly favour. It is, however, just an institution when all is said and done. Yet my conservative friends want to bribe me into getting married as part of their quest to repair the 'broken society'. In many ways, it is the mistake that workaholics have made over the years to justify their absence, "if I can't be there to love you in person, I'll give you stuff in lieu...". Nothing strengthens a relationship like love, trust and good faith, and no matter how much money the Conservative Party aims to stuff into the mouths of married couples, without those things, a marriage is just a business arrangement.

I became a liberal because I appreciated the notion that people should be allowed to get on with their lives in the way that suits them, as long as, by their actions, they do not limit the rights of others to do likewise. That means forming family units in a way that suits them and that will endure, it means a role for the community in nurturing those who suffer from relationship failures. It does not mean trying to trying to handcuff two unhappy people to each other for the sake of the married couple's allowance, something that, as I recall, the Conservatives abolished.

Indeed, it really bothers me when Conservatives talk so airily about freeing the individual from the dead hand of the state, when what they really mean is freeing the individual to behave in a manner they approve of. That sort of freedom is not the concept that I recognise, am comfortable with, or am ever likely to support.

And yet I have to applaud our rivals in blue for their PR skills. Talking about repairing a 'broken society' sounds really good, the sort of thing that we would surely all applaud. However, as always in such matters, the devil is in the detail. There are hints that the handouts to married couples will need to be found somewhere, probably from cuts to single mothers and other second class citizens (from the Conservative perspective, at least), the very people who need most help and support from the state to drag themselves out of poverty.

I will never feel inadequate because my marriage failed. Yes, I have regrets, I'd be foolish to think any other way, but the notion that any future relationship I enter into will only be truly validated, and rewarded, if I exchange vows and sign a certificate in front of witnesses is an affront. Perhaps the Conservatives, instead of trying to turn the clock back to the supposedly halcyon days of the 1950's, should be trying rather harder to support families, regardless of their construction, rather than punish an undeserving minority.

Truth, beauty, passion and diversity

It is true, as Jessica has noted, that I've been a bit distracted of late.

Having said that, I've been pretty busy in the past week, what with the European selections reaching the shortlisting stage. I'm still working on the interview design, although the centrepiece of the process is in place. I've invited some, but not all candidates (I'll do so soon, if any of you are reading this). And, noting the Ealing Southall by-election, the South East Selection Committee have agreed to postpone most of the interviews until after 19 July (sadly, it wasn't possible to postpone all of them but I did try).

On Thursday, I went to Stoke Newington, to attend a Hackney Pasta and Politics evening. The topic - why was our GLA list so deficient in ethnic minority candidates? Dave Raval, whom I've had the pleasure of working with in the past, made some entertaining opening remarks before opening up debate to the room. Whilst Hackney Lib Dems are, to my mind, a touch more radical than other Local Parties I have encountered, I know that we all share the same concerns, and it was nice to hear the thoughts of those not directly affected but who genuinely want to see our Party represent and reflect the diverse communities of our city. Yes, I responded to the discussion, and yes, I didn't agree with all of the comments made, but it was proper that the Regional Party not hide behind reviews and hand-wringing. If I'm going to be, whether partly or wholly, responsible for trying to change things, I should be willing to stand behind my actions.

On Friday, I made my first appearance in Ealing Southall, having arranged to meet Ros Scott at Paddington on the way. I like Ros a lot, and she was, in the past, very kind to the old wallflower bureaucrat circa 2005. Besides, Southall is a bit off her beaten path, and I wouldn't have wanted her to get lost... We were thrown into a maelstrom of envelope stuffing, map marking and newspaper bundling, and it was nice to be useful. Afterwards, we went for dinner at a Lebanese place she knows, which given the limited time and opportunities I have to socialise, was a bit of a treat.

On Saturday, I went to Wokingham for the selection of their new PPC. The two candidates, Prue Bray and John McClintock, are very different, with their own style and emphasis, and after a really enjoyable hustings, with two really good performances, Prue was successful, qualifying her for another run against John Redwood. I hope that John gets a chance somewhere, his passion for liberal democracy really shone through as his momentum built.

On the way back to London, it dawned on me that I was passing through Southall, so I popped into the HQ for another two hour stint of envelope stuffing and addressing. There is a real buzz around the place and, whilst I'm not very good at getting a feel for by-elections - I've not been to very many - if the atmosphere is anything to go by, we'll do well enough...

I really don't understand how Liberal Democrats do by-elections...

Mark is a bit distracted at the moment, and he asked me to post something just to keep the blog active. Funnily enough, we had been talking about the Ealing Southall by-election, and he was explaining all of the aspects to how these things works. I have to admit that I'm somewhat puzzled, as it all seems so unseemly, and feel that the Liberal Democrats are going about things in entirely the wrong way.

For example, your activists seem to be perfectly content to allow high levels of crime to take place. Littering, for example, has become a major problem, and teams of crack activists armed with electric cattle prods should be tasked to carry out sweeps on a ward by ward basis, preventing gangs of anorak wearing youth in their colours of blue and red from committing these heinous offences. I'm afraid that the only way to drive this menace off of our streets is to display zero tolerance.

I also note groups of Conservative politicians plotting attacks on innocent bystanders, armed with potential deadly images of David Cameron. Extraordinary rendition, with transfer to secure facilities, is by far the best response, and Amaranth is determined to do all that we can to provide such an option. My son, Rupert, is geared up for an influx of dangerous customers (we're very public service oriented here), and the moat for our facility has been freshly stocked with saltwater crocodiles - he is convinced that they add that finishing touch that demonstrates absolute attention to detail.

Of course, armed cavalry are good, and I understand that the broad streets of Hanwell are particularly well-suited to use of the sabre. Sadly, my friend, the Countess, tells me that the noble Lord Rennard is determined to stick to the tried and trusted techniques that have served so well in the past.

No sense of romance, you Liberal Democrats, that's your problem...

I wonder if my mother has ever felt the urge to blog...

...because she's the only one left. My younger brother, Kirk, has now taken up blogging, much to my surprise. He also contributes to a comic strip blog called Robogeek, words by his friend Assif, art courtesy of my brother.

If you have a sense of humour, take a look...

Susanne Lamido: something of an apology

Those of you who were involved in the 'Lamido affair' over the past months will occasionally have wondered why I've been defending her to some extent in that time. As previously mentioned, I tend to the view that there is a right to self-expression, as long as that right is used with a degree of integrity.

Following the revocation of her membership, Susanne repeatedly asked me how, and when, she could rejoin. My approach, probably a flawed one, was to suggest that if she ceased her attacks on individuals within the Party, and kept her head down, such a possibility might exist. However, she didn't take my advice, and continued with an astonishingly self-destructive policy of attacking the very people most likely to influence any discussion on her possible readmittance, under the misguided view that persistently attempting to bring the Party into disrepute was simply her right. I did explain that the desire to join any club did imply a willingness to adhere to its rules, but without effect.

Having said all that, I did assume that she was respectful of facts, even if she had a tendency to misinterpret them. Until now, that is. In her blog entry yesterday, she cast a series of aspersions on the manner in which Nigel Bakhai was chosen as the Liberal Democrat candidate in the Ealing Southall by-election. Sadly, they weren't accurate, perhaps a consequence of not actually being a member of the Party. However, in a spirit of accuracy, I posted a comment on her blog, noting that she had spelt Munira Hassam's name incorrectly, and sketching the factors influencing the selection of our by-election candidate. I know that it was received because, subsequently, Munira's name was corrected.

In the past, I have been critical of Susanne's tendency to publish anonymous, insulting and inaccurate comments about friends and colleagues, suggesting to her that, by publishing them, she is endorsing them. Her response has been to tell me that she doesn't believe in censorship. Well, now it appears that I have evidence that such a line is inaccurate, which rather saddens me. Perhaps my efforts last year on her behalf were wasted, and the damage sustained to my personal credibility in vain. Such a pity...

European Selection: 'tis the night after Christmas...

... and all across the land, Returning Officers are wondering what's in their stockings (actually, I'm not sure that I like that analogy) but I've already opened all of my presents, notified the Selection Committee and filed a list with Candidates Office to check that they're all validly approved candidates.

And now the fun really starts, with decisions to be made over longlisting, interviews to be scheduled and all of the other 'stuff' that needs to be arranged. On the positive side, the hustings meetings have been arranged, and I look forward to spending successive Saturdays in Brighton, Oxford, Woking, Eastleigh, Canterbury, Newbury and Burgess Hill in September and October, watching my beloved candidates debate, canvass and campaign themselves to near standstill.

Watch this space, as I'll be making the odd announcement via this blog. In the meantime, is your Local Party holding a social event between now and 6 November, particularly in the period from 28 August to 6 November? If so, let me know, and I'll pass word on to the applicants...

Nigel Bakhai: carrying the torch for Regional Secretaries everywhere

Being Secretary of your Regional Party is not just the province of faceless bureaucrats like myself, but can be a stepping stone to greatness. In fact, my immediate predecessor has just stepped, blinking slightly, into the spotlight as our candidate in the forthcoming Ealing Southall by-election.

I’ve got a lot of time for Nigel, and was pleased to see him survive the rigorous process by which we select by-election candidates (let’s just say that the Selection Committee is not the usual collection of local campaigners). He also beat a very good opponent at the hustings meeting, Munira Hassam, of whom I expect to hear a lot more in the future.

One of my work colleagues lives in Hanwell, and I’m pleased to note that she has received her first leaflet from our campaign team already. I’m working on persuading her to vote, and already know that she’ll vote for anyone who can defeat Labour.

I’ll also be turning up to lend a bureaucratic hand later this week, amongst the three candidate selections that I’m trying to deliver. It’s a worthy cause, and I’m optimistic that we can achieve a good result if we can get the work done…

Manning the barricades, not hiding behind them

The series of terrorist attacks across the country seems to indicate a concerted attempt to undermine a new Prime Minister at a time of transition, a sign, perhaps, of the increasing sophistication of those who would provoke us into hasty reaction rather than measured response.

It would be very easy for Gordon Brown to announce sweeping measures to 'deal with the problem' and I am reassured that, thus far, he has not risen to the bait. He has, very sensibly, talked of vigilance, and support for the police and security forces, a stance that most of us, regardless of our political affiliation, can get behind.

And it is at times like this that liberals should be making the case for taking an outward looking position on how to deal with terrorists, not by repressing minority communities, nor stirring up fear amongst the population, but by properly debating how we as a community can address the issues that impact on terrorism and provide it with oxygen.

There is nothing wrong with ruthlessly hunting down terrorists and punishing them for their crimes, whilst considering whether a change of approach in our foreign policy might make friends and influence people more effectively than our current stance. Clearly, our involvement in Iraq has made the country less safe but how do the alternatives actually make us more secure, if indeed they do? A process of independent engagement in the Israel/Palestine conflict might give us broader credibility within the Muslim community, be it within the United Kingdom or around the globe.

However we proceed, liberals need to be at the forefront of the argument, making the case for internationalism, for a genuine British voice on issues of international importance, be that within a European framework or in concert with other allies, including the United States where agreement is to be found. Most of all, we need to frame the debate in such a way that the public feel that we reflect their concerns and their hopes, especially those of our new communities, who need convincing that they are part of the political debate.

I honestly believe if we do these things, and we make a positive case for a liberal foreign and security policy, the argument can be won, and a nation unencumbered by a repressive state can find its proper place in the international community.

European Selections: a request to my fellow bloggers

Many of you will be involved in the upcoming European selections, either as candidates, selection committee members or interested bystanders. Do me and my fellow Returning Officers a favour, please be careful about promoting one or more candidates in your blogs.

It isn't that I can, or want to, stop you. It's just that the endorsement rules are an ongoing concern, and I'd rather not spend my time dealing with unhappy applicants.

This is a message from your friendly neighbourhood Returning Officer...

A Returning Officer returns

So I'm back, and already overstretched...

I was kept busy on European Selection stuff whilst I was away, with steady interest being shown by potential applicants (naturally, I can't provide you with names, numbers, or anything else), hustings to finalise, questions to answer, the usual things. I'm also in the midst of two Westminster selections, and they are ticking along nicely.

However, time and tide wait for no bureaucrat, and I got home to find piles of paper, including application forms for Sunday's candidate development day. They need to be marked (I've got three done, just one left) but today's English Council meeting had to be negotiated first. I'm in the habit of helping Paul Rustad, the English Party's Administrator, to staff registration, and quite enjoy it, as it gives me a chance to meet colleagues from other Regions, and they often find a moment or two to chat.

It wasn't the most thrilling meeting, and I confess to having taken the opportunity to mark some of the application forms during those moments of less immediate personal interest. Afterwards, I spent some quality time with Vanessa McPake, South Central Region's legendary Regional Media Co-ordinator and Regional Administrator, working out what we needed to do in the run-up to the European selection hustings in September and October. It is always nice to work with Vanessa. She gets stuff done...