I have a suggestion for Prince
Charles: why not register yourself as a professional political lobbyist? You
could set up your own company: HRH Political Consultants.
You clearly enjoy writing to
ministers, trying to influence policy, and backing the causes you favour. On
the evidence of the handful of your letters that were finally published this
week after a 10-year legal battle by The Guardian, it's not immediately obvious
how successful you are -- but there's no doubting your diligence.
I can well understand how
frustrating it is, having to wait until you're an old man before being allowed
to do the job you were born to do. And given how strongly you feel about so
many things -- the plight of hill farmers, bovine TB, military helicopters, historic
huts in the Antarctic, alternative medicines and the fate of the albatross --
well, yes, it must be tempting to pick up a pen and scribble a few lines to the
relevant government minister.
There's just one problem: it's
not your job. You live a life of comfort and immense privilege, in part paid
for by tax-payers, to do just one thing.
Wait.
OK, you can open some new
hospitals, admire brave new ventures, run a charity or two, make a few anodyne
speeches, attend foreign potentates' funerals. That's the job description, and
I agree, it sounds like hell.
Say nothing controversial, do
nothing controversial. If you're in training to be a figurehead, take note of
what figureheads do. ("Figurehead: a carved wooden decoration …")
Think how much more interesting it
would be to be a full-time lobbyist. True, you'd have to give up being a prince
-- or a king, come to that -- but hey, we all have to make choices in life.
What is most troubling is not
your views, nor that you decided to express them in long -- and frankly
sometimes quite tedious -- letters. What's troubling is that you don't see that
there's a problem.
As The Times wrote in an
editorial: "It is constitutionally improper for the heir to the throne to
exert pressure on the democratically elected government. By the simple fact of
his position, a letter from the prince is not just a letter, but a form of
pressure."
And let's be honest, you know
that perfectly well. Why else would you have written the letters? Why would you
have written to Tessa Jowell ("Dear Tessa … Yours affectionately …")
that you'd promised the prime minister of New Zealand, Helen Clark, that you
would raise the issue of those Antarctic huts, even though you knew full well
that it was already under discussion between the two governments?
Why else would you have leant on
Tony Blair ("I apologise for the length of this letter!") on the
subject of the EU directive on herbal medicines? You're neither a trained scientist
nor a trained doctor (you did history and French at A level and got a 2:2 in
history at Cambridge), yet for some inexplicable reason you clearly thought the
prime minister of the day should take seriously your views on the appropriate
regulation of alternative medicines.
You also have strong views on how
children should be educated -- in February 2005, you wrote to the newly
appointed education secretary Ruth Kelly: "I remain convinced that the
current approaches to teaching and learning need to be challenged." Well, fine, but why should your
thoughts on education be of any conceivable interest to ministers?
Five years ago, when David
Cameron was still a mere leader of the opposition, he warned that political
lobbying was "the next big scandal waiting to happen". Earlier this
year, in a report called Lifting the Lid on Lobbying, the campaign group
Transparency International said: "UK citizens currently have little
opportunity to understand who is lobbying whom, how, for what purpose and with what funds."
We will almost certainly never
have another chance to see what else Prince Charles has been writing to
ministers about, nor indeed what he chooses to lobby them about once he becomes
king. Shamefully, the government is determined to change the law to ensure that
his secret lobbying is never again exposed to public scrutiny.
Even the Daily Mail, which would
not normally agree with The Guardian about anything, thinks we have a right to
know whose arm he is twisting and about what: "The
Prince sought to use his position to influence public policy. So surely the
public had the right to know what he was up to. May the Mail humbly suggest that if he doesn’t want the public to know
about his meddling, he shouldn’t do it?"
All lobbying, whether by princes or paupers (not that
paupers usually get much opportunity to lobby), should be subject to public
scrutiny. It's the only way we can be sure that nothing improper is going on.
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