This week's Westminster psychodrama featured senior civil servants dragged into the spotlight, a Green MP causing a stink about booze, hereditary peers getting the boot (sort of), and a state visit that was mostly froth. Plus, Spurs finally won a game, but let's not get carried away.
We don't often see senior civil servants out in the wild - they're usually tucked behind desks, trying to stop their ministers from doing catastrophic things to their departments. But this week, two of them were reluctantly dragged before the foreign affairs select committee to explain Keir Starmer's appointment of Peter Mandelson as US ambassador. The discomfort was excruciating, and the evidence was, shall we say, instructive.
First up: Olly Robbins, a Sir obviously, who was sacked as Foreign Office permanent secretary for not mentioning that UK Security Vetting had given Mandelson two red lights and recommended against sending him to Washington. Robbins, perhaps thinking Starmer was so desperate to send Mandy that he could manage the risk, came across as a bit dim for a clever man. He seemed governed by the civil service manual, unable to think for himself. Surely it's common sense to tell the PM that Mandelson failed the vetting? But Robbins would rather get the sack than use initiative. Then there was Cat Little, only a CB, the Cabinet Office official in charge of releasing evidence to parliament. She was a slave to process, unable to confirm or deny anything unless it was recorded, then recorded again. The more she spoke, the less sense she made. It was an education, of sorts.
Meanwhile, Hannah Spencer, the newly elected Green MP for Gorton and Denton, got shot at from all sides for saying some MPs smell of booze and she's uneasy about the alcohol culture in Westminster. Not a big deal, you'd think, but the reaction was out of proportion. Nigel Farage led the charge, never letting anyone stop him from having a pint. Other MPs chimed in: "It wasn't a normal job," they said, so drinking in the voting lobbies was fine as long as you stumbled through the right side. Some attacked Spencer for being a Green; Rod Liddle in the Spectator accused her of class warfare. Apparently, alcohol is for the refined classes. My sympathies are with Spencer. I've not drunk alcohol for over 39 years, but serving as an MP is a privilege and responsibility. Almost everyone else doesn't drink at work, so surely MPs can cope. Though some journalists can't - at the White House correspondents dinner, when a gunman tried to kill the president, several hacks grabbed bottles of wine. Altogether, 179 bottles went missing at $76 (£56) a pop.
On the hereditary peers front, centuries of tradition ended as the last 92 lost their seats in the House of Lords. Sort of. Starmer allowed 26 of them - 15 Tories, two Labour, nine crossbenchers - to return as life peers if they give up family titles. This apparent U-turn is a bribe to expedite reform, apparently. For those cast out, it was emotional, with long farewells. They claim they'll be a significant loss as they didn't owe seats to patronage. But one life peer, the 2nd Baron Inglewood, AKA Richard Fletcher-Vane of Hutton-in-the-Forest, complained the abolition plans were "crude." "I don't think anybody enjoys being sacked," he said, "particularly if the reason is the identity of my father." He's missing the point: it was his father's identity that got him the job in the first place.
The state visit to the US went about as well as expected, apart from a slight awkwardness when NYC mayor Zohran Mamdani refused a private meeting. Charles and Camilla would rather have stayed home (Starmer told them it was a three-line whip), but they played a blinder. Charles didn't complain when Trump pushed in front, didn't say a word when Trump called him a "really good friend" (a feeling definitely not reciprocated). Charles bit his tongue when Trump said if the king had been PM, he'd have backed him on Iran. But Charles got barbs in during his Congress address, with pointed remarks on Ukraine, Nato, and checks and balances. We were told that when he mentioned "the ills that have affected both our countries," he meant Jeffrey Epstein victims. Forgive me for missing that; if I were a victim, I'd hope for more.
The most notable thing was the sheer bollocks talked by royal correspondents, overanalysing every action. These state visits mean far less than monarchists believe. We haven't cemented another 25 years of the "special relationship" just because Charles went to Washington and rubbed along OK for a couple of days. International diplomacy doesn't work like that. A state visit is froth. Trump will likely forget it within days and resume attacks on Starmer and the UK.
Finally, Spurs won a Premier League match! It was a scrappy 1-0 win against the bottom side, already relegated, but a win nonetheless - their first all year. Yet it's too little, too late. West Ham, their main relegation rival, scored a late goal to win their game, so Spurs are two points adrift with four matches left. This Sunday they're away to Aston Villa, chasing a Champions League spot. Only a diehard optimist would bet on Spurs not losing.
I wrote a month ago that I was resigned to Championship football. I made peace with the self-inflicted wound of relegation. But I now discover that was premature. I do care, after all. It's like being in a slow-motion car crash. I want the season over without suffering the last three weeks. Not wanting to watch but knowing I can't not. I've got distraction tactics lined up, but they won't make a difference. So if you're in Cornwall, come see me talk about the Westminster psychodrama at the Bude festival on 16 May. You can take pity on my Spurs helplessness or take the piss. I'm used to both.