Cameron suffers the biggest Tory rebellion yet

91 Tory MPs vote against House of Lords reform in the biggest revolt of this parliament.

With all three of the main parties whipping their MPs in favour of Lords reform, the result of tonight's vote (the programme motion having been withdrawn) was never in doubt. MPs voted overwhelmingly by 462-124 to give the bill a second reading.

But the real story is the size of the Conservative revolt. With 91 Tory MPs voting against the bill, it was the largest rebellion since the formation of the coalition, beating the previous record of 82 set by the EU rebels last year. The rebels were just four short of matching the largest Conservative rebellion of the post-war era over the Major government's post-Dunblane firearms legislation. Conor Burns, PPS to Northern Ireland Secretary Owen Paterson, resigned from the government in protest earlier today, and Angie Bray, PPS to Cabinet Office minister Francis Maude, was sacked immediately after the vote. As ConservativeHome notes, if one takes into account the number of Tory abstentions, more than half of all the party's backbenchers defied the whip and refused to vote for the bill.

By withdrawing the programme motion at the eleventh hour, Cameron avoided the ignominy of an outright Commons defeat. But his authority has been badly dented by tonight's vote. As in the case of the EU referendum vote, the PM was forced to rely on Labour votes to carry the day.

As I wrote earlier, the fate of Lords reform now lies in Labour's hands. If Ed Miliband agrees to the use of closure motions to prevent filibustering by the rebels, the bill could yet make it through the Commons. The key question is what the coalition will have to offer Labour in return for its backing. One possibility, as I suggested in my last post, is that Cameron and Clegg will agree to a referendum, a proposal that Labour endorsed in its 2010 manifesto and that a number of Tory rebels also support.

David Cameron relied on Labour votes to avoid defeat over House of Lords reform. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

DebateTech
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Politicians: it's no longer OK to know nothing about technology

It’s bad enough to joke about not being "techy"; it's worse to write a piece of legislation from a position of ignorance. 

Earlier this week, facing down a 600-strong battalion of London’s tech sector at a mayoral hustings in Stratford, Zac Goldsmith opened his five minute pitch with his characteristic charm. “I’m not very techy!” he exclaimed. “I understand coding about as well as Swahili!”

Pointless jibe at a foreign language aside, this was an ill-chosen way to begin his address - especially considering that the rest of his speech showed he was reasonably well-briefed on the problems facing the sector, and the solutions (including improving broadband speeds and devolving skills budgets) which could help.

But the offhand reference to his own ignorance, and the implication that it would be seen as attractive by this particular audience, implies that Goldsmith, and other politicians like him, haven’t moved on since the 90s. The comment seemed designed to say: “Oh, I don't know about that - I'll leave it to the geeks like you!"

This is bad enough from a mayoral hopeful.  But on the same day, the Intelligence and Security Committee of Parliament filed its report on the Draft Investigatory Powers Bill, the legislation drafted by the Home Office which will define how and how far the government and secret services can pry into our digital communications. Throughout, there's the sense that the ISC doesn't think the MPs behind the bill had a firm grasp on the issues at hand. Words like "inconsistent" and "lacking in clarity" pop up again and again. In one section, the authors note:

"While the issues under consideration are undoubtedly complex, we are nevertheless concerned that thus far the Government has missed the opportunity to provide the clarity and assurance which is badly needed."

The report joins criticism from other directions, including those raised by Internet Service Providers last year, that the bill's writers didn't appear to know much about digital communications at all, much less the issues surrounding encryption of personal messages.

One good example: the bill calls for the collection of "internet connection records", the digital equivalent of phone call records, which show the domains visited by internet users but not their content. But it turns out these records don't exist in this form: the bill actually invented both the phrase and the concept. As one provider commented at the time, anyone in favour of their collection "do not understand how the Internet works". 

Politicians have a long and colourful history of taking on topics - even ministerial posts - in fields they know little to nothing about. This, in itself, is a problem. But politicians themselves are often the people extolling importance of technology, especially to the British economy - which makes their own lack of knowledge particularly grating. No politician would feel comfortable admitting a lack of knowledge, on, say, economics. I can’t imagine Goldsmith guffawing "Oh, the deficit?  That's all Greek to me!"  over dinner with Cameron. 

The mayoral candidates on stage at the DebateTech hustings this week were eager to agree that tech is London’s fastest growing industry, but could do little more than bleat the words “tech hub” with fear in their eyes that someone might ask them what exactly that meant. (A notable exception was Green candidate Sian Berry, who has actually worked for a tech start-up.) It was telling that all were particularly keen on improving internet speeds -  probably because this is something they do have day-to-day engagement with. Just don't ask them how to go about doing it.

The existence of organisations like Tech London Advocates, the industry group which co-organised the hustings, is important, and can go some way towards educating the future mayor on the issues the industry faces. But the technology and information sectors have been responsible for 30 per cent of job growth in the capital since 2009 - we can't afford to have a mayor who blanches at the mention of code. 

If we’re to believe the politicians themselves, with all their talk of coding camps and skills incubators and teaching the elderly to email, we need a political sphere where boasting that you're not "techy" isn’t cool or funny - it’s just kind of embarrassing. 

Barbara Speed is a technology and digital culture writer at the New Statesman and a staff writer at CityMetric.