How the Lib Dems should handle a vote on Hunt

The party should condemn him for misleading parliament, not for bias.

Oh no, another cleft stick not of the Lib Dems' making. This time it’s Labour’s call for a vote on the conduct of Jeremy Hunt.

Other political parties don’t like it much when you interfere in their internal machinations. Labour knows what this feels like – remember when Nick Clegg suggested any post-election deal with Labour probably couldn’t feature Gordon Brown? So, when David Cameron announced (with perhaps the sort of breakneck decision-making on-the-hoof that ends up in the odd U-turn) that he wouldn’t be referring Jeremy Hunt to the independent adviser on the ministerial code, it’s understandable that the Lib Dems put out a statement saying it was "a matter for the prime minister alone to decide how to handle issues of discipline concerning Conservative ministers".

But now Labour has called a vote in the Commons. And this puts us in a tricky position.

Supporting a motion condemning Hunt over bias is a tempting offer. But Saint Vince also expressed bias, albeit on the side of the angels. Surely no one now thinks Vince should have resigned, but to condemn Hunt for bias would seem a tad hypocritical. And anyway, the issue over bias isn’t really Hunt’s problem. It’s Cameron’s, for giving Hunt responsibility in the first place. He either appointed Hunt because of his views – which would be an abuse of power. Or despite of his views – which demonstrates a complete lack of judgement.

So then, do we support Hunt? Do we say everything he did is tickety boo, all fine with us?  Lord no. He’s up to his neck in this, and without any sort of inquiry, we will never get to the truth. How many times has Leveson said he won’t rule on whether the ministerial code has been broken, yet we’re told post- Leveson, Hunt has a clean bill of health. Ha, I should coco.

So do we abstain and say "none of our business"? Well, that would look good wouldn’t it. Very brave. Very decisive. Nope, that’s not an option either.

So, we’re stuck. Fortunately, there’s a way out.

While bias may not be the undoing of Hunt, there’s a second charge looming – that he misled Parliament, both regarding his alleged attempts to interfere in the process while Cable had responsibility for it, and then when he said in the House in March 2011 that he had published "all the documents relating to all the meetings, all the consultation documents, all the submissions we received, all the exchanges between my department and News Corporation”.

... which I would suggest may have been a little economical with the actualité.

If we’re smart, we’ll put down an amendment to whatever motion Labour puts forward, that centres purely on misleading Parliament - a charge that may well be substantiated in the debate.

And if he’s smart, Cameron will quietly raise no objections to us supporting that amendment. If Hunt resigns over a charge of misleading parliament, that issue starts and ends at his door. If we stray into why a man who was so clearly pro-Murdoch was given quasi-judicial responsibility for the BSkyB bid in the first place, that issue lands on the doorstep of No.10.

And before that happens, Hunt will probably go.

Culture Secretary Jeremy Hunt leaves the High Court in London after giving evidence at the Leveson inquiry. Photograph: Getty Images.

Richard Morris blogs at A View From Ham Common, which was named Best New Blog at the 2011 Lib Dem Conference

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For the first time in my life I have a sworn enemy – and I don’t even know her name

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

Last month, I made an enemy. I do not say this lightly, and I certainly don’t say it with pride, as a more aggressive male might. Throughout my life I have avoided confrontation with a scrupulousness that an unkind observer would call out-and-out cowardice. A waiter could bring the wrong order, cold and crawling with maggots, and in response to “How is everything?” I’d still manage a grin and a “lovely, thanks”.

On the Underground, I’m so wary of being a bad citizen that I often give up my seat to people who aren’t pregnant, aren’t significantly older than me, and in some cases are far better equipped to stand than I am. If there’s one thing I am not, it’s any sort of provocateur. And yet now this: a feud.

And I don’t even know my enemy’s name.

She was on a bike when I accidentally entered her life. I was pushing a buggy and I wandered – rashly, in her view – into her path. There’s little doubt that I was to blame: walking on the road while in charge of a minor is not something encouraged by the Highway Code. In my defence, it was a quiet, suburban street; the cyclist was the only vehicle of any kind; and I was half a street’s length away from physically colliding with her. It was the misjudgment of a sleep-deprived parent rather than an act of malice.

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

I was stung by what someone on The Apprentice might refer to as her negative feedback, and walked on with a redoubled sense of the parental inadequacy that is my default state even at the best of times.

A sad little incident, but a one-off, you would think. Only a week later, though, I was walking in a different part of town, this time without the toddler and engrossed in my phone. Again, I accept my culpability in crossing the road without paying due attention; again, I have to point out that it was only a “close shave” in the sense that meteorites are sometimes reported to have “narrowly missed crashing into the Earth” by 50,000 miles. It might have merited, at worst, a reproving ting of the bell. Instead came a familiar voice. “IT’S YOU AGAIN!” she yelled, wrathfully.

This time the shock brought a retort out of me, probably the harshest thing I have ever shouted at a stranger: “WHY ARE YOU SO UNPLEASANT?”

None of this is X-rated stuff, but it adds up to what I can only call a vendetta – something I never expected to pick up on the way to Waitrose. So I am writing this, as much as anything, in the spirit of rapprochement. I really believe that our third meeting, whenever it comes, can be a much happier affair. People can change. Who knows: maybe I’ll even be walking on the pavement

Mark Watson is a stand-up comedian and novelist. His most recent book, Crap at the Environment, follows his own efforts to halve his carbon footprint over one year.

This article first appeared in the 20 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Brothers in blood