It’s time to put Their Lordships’ House in order

Reform of the House of Lords is back on the agenda. The media’s agenda, that is.

According to an investigation by the Sunday Times, conducted as peers consider who should replace 83-year-old Norman Fowler (the Baron Fowler of Sutton-Coldfield) as Lords Speaker, the time has come to bid farewell to the 85 hereditary peers, made up of dukes, earls, viscounts and barons.

The average hereditary, it turns out, has spoken in the chamber just ten times a year, which, allowing for the time Parliament is in recess, is less than once every six weeks. This doesn’t stop some of them from claiming £323 a day, tax-free, plus subsidised meals (and drinks) in the Palace of Westminster.

But let’s be honest, whatever such perks add up to is a mere drop in the Treasury ocean. Rishi Sunak could meet the Lord’s expenses out of his back pocket. What ought to be exercising us is the very existence of the Lords, which currently has 830 sitting members, making it the second-largest parliamentary assembly in the world, behind only the Chinese National People’s Congress, and the only second chamber of any bicameral legislature to be larger than its elected lower house.

Membership for life of Their Lordships’ House, granting hard-to-get tickets for theatrical first-nights, upgrades on long-distance flights, invitations to join the boards of public companies and access to the best tables in restaurants, follows no particular rules.

Discounting the hereditaries and the 26 Lords Spiritual (all C of E), and with the law lords packed off to the Supreme Court since 2009, the remaining 719 members of the Lords were granted their coronets in return for … whatever the prime minister and opposition party leaders consider a suitable reward for services rendered. Ex-ministers and superannuated MPs fill many of the places. Others are taken up by top suits from the corporate world, local government worthies, civil service panjandrums and media and showbiz celebrities. But for more than a century, extending back to the “beerage” of the 1880s, one of the surest ways of achieving membership of the Upper House has been by way of “generous” political donations.

A solid minority of peers, it must be owned, are hard-working and effective. They attend committee meetings, contribute to reports and raise issues that might otherwise be ignored. But the point is, they don’t have to. They could choose – and many do – to regard their elevation as nothing more than a function of their wealth and social standing, leaving the actual business of the House to those who care about such things. Others, grateful for the per deum, sign in mid-morning, enjoy a few drinks and lunch with friends, and then, having looked in to the chamber and bowed to the Lord Speaker, summon a uniformed official to be so good as to order them a taxi.

It can’t go on – except, of course, that it will. The last reform of any consequence was undertaken in 1999 by the Labour government of Tony Blair, which greatly reduced the number of hereditary peers entitled to participate and vote. In 2010, the Tories, Labour and Liberal Democrats all vowed to bring in further democratic reforms. But they didn’t. Nothing happened. In the end, they chose to maintain a system that, however corrupt, enables them  to use the promise of peerages to buy loyalty and reward political donations.

Much better for Britain would be a second chamber that, while still unelected, was built on representation and commitment. The number of peers (or senators) would, ideally, come down from 830 to more like 500, serving terms of perhaps ten years, renewable once only. It would allow the party leaderships in the Commons to nominate one third of places, with allocations fixed in proportion to the number of votes cast for each party (i.e. not the number of seats won) in the previous election. After each subsequent election, parties would, on the same basis, replace members who had died, been imprisoned or whose terms had expired with a fresh raft of nominees.

The remaining two thirds of members would be made up of delegates from local government, including senior representatives of rural and metropolitan councils, plus the nominees (following internal elections) of the trade unions, the CBI, the universities, the churches (including non-Christian faiths) the judiciary, Bar Council and Law Society, the police federation, the civil service, the Arts Council, national charities and – why not? – the Campaign for the Preservation of Rural England.

The second chamber, while retaining the right to pause legislation and to propose amendments to Commons bills, would devote much of its time to committee work and the interrogation of experts. Debates in the chamber would only take place three days a week, between 10am and 6pm. The resulting reports and investigations, much more than now, would have a status at least equivalent to government green papers, demanding consideration by MPs.

While keeping in close touch with their political or institutional roots, members would be required to resign or suspend all other salaried positions. They would be expected to devote at least two thirds of their time to parliamentary business and would be paid a generous salary and necessary expenses rather than a daily rate.

One possible new role would be the confirmation of nominees to serve as heads of Britain’s non-ministerial government departments, such as Ofwat, Ofsted and the Food Standards Agency. The chairs of these 20 bodies have enormous influence but at present are simply announced by the relevant minister, often on the recommendation of Sir Humphrey.

Though the government and opposition parties in the Commons would nominate representatives to speak on their behalf, those sitting in the second chamber would be barred from holding ministerial office. Their function would be to represent interests, not manifestos. As a collective, drawing on a deep well of knowledge but with the nation as a whole as their constituency, they would bring expert eyes to bear on the issues facing Britain and the world.

I need hardly add that none of the above, or anything remotely like it, will happen. Far more likely, the House of Lords, with a few minor tweaks, will carry on much as now, self-regarding, impotent and unthreatening, bent on providing an agreeable, if largely inconsequential, afterlife for the political Establishment and their pals. The alternative would be too sensible to contemplate.