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So I was reading the Economist the other day, as I often do:
How accurate is this? Is there a general feeling in England that the Scottish are taking your money?
NOT since the Scottish National Party (SNP) returned 11 MPs to the House of Commons more than 30 years ago has there been such an upsurge of interest in Scottish independence. And this time at least some of the desire for a change in the relationship between England and Scotland is coming from south of the border.
A number of things have come together to push it up the agenda. This year is the 300th anniversary of the Act of Union; there is a growing possibility that in May the separatist SNP will emerge as the biggest party in the devolved Scottish Parliament; and, a couple of months later, Gordon Brown will almost certainly become the first Scottish prime minister representing a Scottish constituency since Alec Douglas Home in 1963.
On top of this comes increasing resentment at Westminister towards Labour's “asymmetric” devolution settlement, which allows Scottish MPs (mostly Labour) to vote on health, education and Home Office policies that will not touch their constituents.
The feeling is strongest among Tories, who were once the union's greatest defenders, but who have been reduced to a single seat in Scotland for their pains. English voters, meanwhile, are being made more aware of how their taxes are used by Labour to allow a substantially higher level of public spending in Scotland than in England, particularly in Labour's Lanarkshire heartlands.
Until fairly recently I had always thought of myself as a staunch supporter of the union, believing that both nations had benefited greatly from it. What made me begin to change my mind was a visit to Scotland in the summer of 2002 to see what the impact of devolution had been.
Three years into the life of the new Scottish Parliament, what struck me was the strange mixture of cynicism and almost childish irresponsibility that infected its members.
AFP
For pork and talkBoth Labour and Liberal Democrat members of the coalition that ran the executive were really only interested in all the things they were spending money on. And they had more money than they knew what to do with, thanks to Mr Brown's subsidy gusher.The Lib Dems were cockahoop after pushing through free university tuition and free home care for the elderly, neither of which was available in England.
Negotiations between the coalition partners were in full swing ahead of elections the following year and were said to be fraught. What, I asked, were the issues dividing the parties? “Well, pork”, came the reply from a senior Lib Dem, “what we want is more money spent on the things we want in the places we want. It's pure pork-barrel politics.”
Was that it? Pretty much, though they were also quite pleased with themselves for having banned smacking and hunting before Westminster got round to it. This was basically old-style municipal socialism with politically-correct trimmings, and someone else picking up the bill. The Scottish Parliament has modest powers to increase taxation, by up to 3p in the pound, but so far, unsurprisingly, it hasn't had to.
I'm fairly sceptical of the SNP's claim that independence would turn the sluggish Scottish economy into a second Celtic tiger with the added benefit of oil. Save for a booming financial services sector in Edinburgh and Glasgow it is mainly the public sector that has filled the gap left by closure of traditional heavy industries. If the SNP's bullish forecasts for future oil revenues proved wrong, the adjustment would be painful.
But I think if I were a Scot, faced with a referendum on independence, I'd take the risk and vote for it, on the grounds that the relationship with England has become corrupting and demeaning.
An equally interesting (and seldom asked) question is what a split would mean for politics in England. Without its 41 Scottish seats, and stripped of some its best talent, how would Labour do? Would it become even-more-New Labour, or would it give up, as it did in the 1980s? And would the Tories feel that they no longer had to make such an effort to appear centrist and caring? Who knows, but it would be different.
A number of things have come together to push it up the agenda. This year is the 300th anniversary of the Act of Union; there is a growing possibility that in May the separatist SNP will emerge as the biggest party in the devolved Scottish Parliament; and, a couple of months later, Gordon Brown will almost certainly become the first Scottish prime minister representing a Scottish constituency since Alec Douglas Home in 1963.
On top of this comes increasing resentment at Westminister towards Labour's “asymmetric” devolution settlement, which allows Scottish MPs (mostly Labour) to vote on health, education and Home Office policies that will not touch their constituents.
The feeling is strongest among Tories, who were once the union's greatest defenders, but who have been reduced to a single seat in Scotland for their pains. English voters, meanwhile, are being made more aware of how their taxes are used by Labour to allow a substantially higher level of public spending in Scotland than in England, particularly in Labour's Lanarkshire heartlands.
Until fairly recently I had always thought of myself as a staunch supporter of the union, believing that both nations had benefited greatly from it. What made me begin to change my mind was a visit to Scotland in the summer of 2002 to see what the impact of devolution had been.
Three years into the life of the new Scottish Parliament, what struck me was the strange mixture of cynicism and almost childish irresponsibility that infected its members.
AFP
For pork and talkBoth Labour and Liberal Democrat members of the coalition that ran the executive were really only interested in all the things they were spending money on. And they had more money than they knew what to do with, thanks to Mr Brown's subsidy gusher.The Lib Dems were cockahoop after pushing through free university tuition and free home care for the elderly, neither of which was available in England.
Negotiations between the coalition partners were in full swing ahead of elections the following year and were said to be fraught. What, I asked, were the issues dividing the parties? “Well, pork”, came the reply from a senior Lib Dem, “what we want is more money spent on the things we want in the places we want. It's pure pork-barrel politics.”
Was that it? Pretty much, though they were also quite pleased with themselves for having banned smacking and hunting before Westminster got round to it. This was basically old-style municipal socialism with politically-correct trimmings, and someone else picking up the bill. The Scottish Parliament has modest powers to increase taxation, by up to 3p in the pound, but so far, unsurprisingly, it hasn't had to.
I'm fairly sceptical of the SNP's claim that independence would turn the sluggish Scottish economy into a second Celtic tiger with the added benefit of oil. Save for a booming financial services sector in Edinburgh and Glasgow it is mainly the public sector that has filled the gap left by closure of traditional heavy industries. If the SNP's bullish forecasts for future oil revenues proved wrong, the adjustment would be painful.
But I think if I were a Scot, faced with a referendum on independence, I'd take the risk and vote for it, on the grounds that the relationship with England has become corrupting and demeaning.
An equally interesting (and seldom asked) question is what a split would mean for politics in England. Without its 41 Scottish seats, and stripped of some its best talent, how would Labour do? Would it become even-more-New Labour, or would it give up, as it did in the 1980s? And would the Tories feel that they no longer had to make such an effort to appear centrist and caring? Who knows, but it would be different.
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