7

Guarding the institution: The case for procedural and cultural reform

Introduction

In this wide-ranging chapter, I conceptualise effective parliamentary administration from a viewpoint that elevates the broad concept of public management without necessarily subordinating effective procedural management. Procedural and management functions should be seen not as opposites, working in competition, but as part of a continuum of effective parliamentary administration. Managing the rules is crucial to performing parliament’s role of scrutinising the executive while also enabling the executive to implement its programs and, in the following sections, I seek to engender an appreciation of the purpose, complexity and evolution of procedural rules and the need for their careful stewardship. But I also examine three procedural and cultural dilemmas that go to the heart of balancing continuity and reform: changing rules and behaviours to meet public expectations; the need for public engagement strategies that are representative and not merely informative; and the danger of consigning reforms to the too-difficult box. Procedural and cultural reform are crucial components of good public management; however, sustaining and enhancing a parliament’s effectiveness encompass more than managing and playing by the existing rules, as important as these may be.

The case for defending the rules

It is more material that there should be a rule to go by than what that rule is, in order that there may be a uniformity of proceeding in the business of the House, not subject to the momentary caprice of the Speaker or to the captious disputes of any Members … [I]t is not so material that the rule should be established on the foundation of sound reason and argument as it is that order, decency and regularity should be preserved in a large, numerous and consequently sometimes tumultuous assembly. (Hatsell c. 1796, quoted in Evans 2014)

For an insightful history and analysis of the origins and purposes of the procedural rules of the House of Commons, which the House of Representatives has largely followed, Paul Evans’s Open Lecture to Aberystwyth University provided a valuable and occasionally self-deprecating source.¹ An early canon of procedural law was Hatsell’s Precedents of Proceedings in the House of Commons with Observations, published between 1776 and 1796, and later incorporated in Thomas Jefferson’s Manual of Parliamentary Procedure, which continues to hold some sway in the US Congress as a final authority on procedure. Hatsell’s work was overtaken by Erskine May’s 1844 Treatise on the Law, Privilege, Proceedings and Usage of Parliament, which has become the ‘bible of parliamentary procedure’ (Evans 2014). The House of Lords is guided by the Companion to the Standing Orders and Guide to the Proceedings of the House of Lords (2013), the first edition of which was compiled in 1862 by the Clerk of the Parliaments. In Australia, both houses have also developed their own ‘bibles’: House of Representatives Practice and Senate Practice, the latter being strongly associated with its original author and known as ‘Odgers’ in the ‘Erskine May’ tradition. Both parliaments have voluminous Standing Orders that govern conduct in their respective chambers.

Evans (2014, 2017) put forward two dichotomous views about the purpose of procedural rules: the Platonic/Methuselan view, representing the minority against the inroads of the executive, and the Aristotelian/Modernist view, ensuring that good governance is achieved by taking a more consensual approach to passing legislation. He doubted, however, that each could be so discretely encapsulated. Both philosophical camps (however characterised) would agree that parliament is about the struggle of ideas; one prioritises ‘actions and outcomes’, while the other prefers ‘deliberation and caution’ (Evans 2017: 13–14). Attempts to reform house business and procedure in the UK Parliament have reflected the changing balance between the two camps: the efficient delivery of the government’s program against greater opportunities for scrutiny and deliberation. Evans credited the House of Commons Reform Committee (2009, the ‘Wright Committee’), in the aftermath of the ‘accidental’ expenses scandal and the election of a coalition government in 2015, with the beginning of a reversal of the drift of control of the House of Commons’ agenda to the government that had occurred through the previous century and a half. He noted that select committees were now the principal locus of scrutiny efforts. His views are supported by those of Ryle (2005), Kelso (2009) and Russell and Benton (2011).² Russell and Paun (2007), in a comparative study of procedural rules and their influence on parliamentary autonomy, provided strong arguments for electing a Speaker prepared to be an outspoken public defender of parliament and for backbenchers to be given more control over managing house business—both of which were realised in the House of Commons during Speaker Bercow’s term.³ They noted that the procedure committees in both the Australian House of Representatives and the UK House of Commons⁴ were more transparent and open than in the Australian Senate, where procedural reform was dominated by covert dealings between the whips and frontbenchers, and this observation was reflected in my interviews with clerks and members.

Russell and Cowley (2018), in a revision of King’s (1976) modes of executive–legislature relations, acknowledged a reduction in the whips’ patronage power, greater status for committee chairs, including an ability to speak for parliament, and a greater cross-party ethos. They also found that substantial reform to the House of Lords’ membership, including the virtual abolition of hereditary peers, has increased its influence and that management of the House of Commons has become more complex, particularly when there is no single party majority (Russell and Cowley 2018: 21). In fact, before the election of the Johnson government in 2019, the dominance of the executive in the UK Parliament had decreased to such an extent that some parliamentarians questioned whether the House of Commons was becoming too powerful.⁵ In the context of Brexit, Norton (2018a) contrasted the best of times—the strength of parliament in relation to the executive—with the worst of times: parliament’s relationship with the public, whose members exhibited little trust in parliament as an institution. In the latter respect, media headlines have even invoked outrage against the tyranny of parliament (Hartigan 2019).

In the Australian Parliament, the House of Representatives has been largely under the control of the executive since 1940, with the exception of the 2010–13 parliament when procedural reform tended to favour the House over the executive.⁶ After the 2016 election, the government’s numeric hold further decreased and, by late 2018, its majority had disappeared, with Independent members and the government’s own backbench gaining influence over government policy.⁷ The Australian Senate has stronger powers than most upper houses (Russell 2000) and, since 1949, the executive has rarely controlled the Senate. Procedure has tended to be viewed by senate officials very much from a Platonist/Methuselan perspective in guaranteeing the rights of elected minority parties and individual senators against the ravages of government (Evans, H. 2002; Laing 2013; Evans, P. 2014, 2017).⁸

We can see that defending procedures against ‘momentary caprice’ or ‘captious disputes’, while important, does not mean that nothing should change; indeed, the balance of power between the parliament and the executive is influenced by many factors other than procedural continuity. The approach to procedural practice articulated by Evans (2014, 2017)—namely, ‘if you can’t ride two horses, you shouldn’t be in the circus’⁹—must balance efficiency and effectiveness by allowing a parliament to enable as well as to scrutinise (see also Norton 2000; Kelso 2009). But, in the words of former Clerk of the House of Commons Sir Courtenay Ilbert (1902–21) parliamentary procedure ‘remains a mystery, unintelligible except to the initiated, and the officials who [formulate] the rules [are] not anxious that their knowledge should be too widely shared’ (quoted in Evans 2014: 10). That summation remains the case today (Williamson and Fallon 2011; DDC 2015; Leston-Bandeira 2015; Crewe 2017). If the purpose of procedural rules is to ‘demonstrate fair play and to win the assent of the people to the exercise of sovereign power’ (Evans 2014), logic dictates and reformers agree that the rules should also be relevant and publicly accessible, just as should be the physical embodiments of parliament, including access to its building and proceedings. Taking a broad view, managing the procedural function involves more than just preserving ‘order, decency and regularity in a tumultuous assembly’, more even than riding the two horses of efficient government and effective scrutiny. I return to Crick’s view expressed in Chapter 2 that

the purpose of any institution, or the operative ideals of any group of men are only realizable through procedures; and so existing procedures must constantly be examined in light of the great radical question: ‘Do they serve the public interest?’ (Crick 1968: 12)

Thus, procedural management extends beyond the close management of Standing Orders and business processes (important as these are; see Russell and Paun 2007) towards placing a greater focus on public value and cultural change in the way parliaments go about their business. Seen in this light, effective procedural management requires exercising control over two different horses while also negotiating the terrain beyond the circus ring to better serve the public interest.

The stewardship role

In arguing the case for both stewardship and procedural and cultural reform, in pursuit of Crick’s public interest test, I look first at ‘stewardship’ and the belief that it occurs where managers’ motives are aligned with their organisation and its principals. Stewards are understood to act not as self-serving utility maximisers but to display pro-organisational, collective (rather than self-interested) behaviours (see Donaldson and Davis 1991; Davis et al. 1997). The director-general’s review in the UK House of Commons defined parliamentary stewardship as a ‘continuing responsibility we have on behalf of the public for the good order, the effective running and the reputation of the House of Commons’ (House of Commons 2016: 12n.1; emphasis added; see also Chapter 5, this volume). In the Australian Parliamentary Service Act 1999, the term ‘stewardship’ is legislated but not defined.¹⁰ Although some Australian interviewees displayed pragmatism towards stewardship, advocating a ‘modern and open’ approach,¹¹ others were more cautious about change.¹² Stewardship was viewed more from a protectionist and conservative perspective than a reforming or anticipatory one.

As demonstrated in Chapter 6, impediments to management reform are institutional divisions, multiple stakeholders and multiple roles of parliamentary administration. From a theoretical perspective, it might be difficult to determine precisely who are the owners or principals of the parliamentary institution and on whom the responsibility for stewardship rests. Nevertheless, there is sufficient evidence to put ownership of the parliament in public hands, albeit through the collective agency of its members (see Rogers and Walters 2015), and to argue that stewardship of procedure (in its broadest sense) should also favour the interests of the public (or owners) through facilitative structures and procedures even if there is room for doubt as to who has authority or responsibility over a particular matter (see Donaldson and Davis 1991). This brief discussion of stewardship and how it might be interpreted by parliamentary actors is important to an understanding of the need for, and processes of, both procedural and cultural reform. Put simply, it illustrates the tensions that can exist between changing traditions and practices or preserving them; between the interests of those advocating or opposing reform; and between differing perceptions of the public interest (Ringeling 2015).¹³ And here I re-emphasise the dual purposes of parliament’s public engagement role: first, to engender a wider, more sophisticated and less divisive understanding—if not wholehearted appreciation—of parliament’s competing roles in both enabling and scrutinising government; and second, to encourage greater public participation in its deliberative processes. These align closely with two of this book’s stated purposes. More aspirational is the potential for parliament, represented by its members and officials, to join with other public institutions in seeking broader democratic reform—a third stated purpose for this book.

Achieving procedural reform: Challenges and limits

Norton (2000) elaborated on the purposes of procedural reform: to expedite government business, to improve the working environment for members, to eliminate archaic procedures that have little meaning and to strengthen parliament’s scrutiny role. He prescribed three conditions for reform: a window of opportunity, usually at the beginning of a parliament; a coherent reform agenda; and political leadership, whether from the backbench, the incumbent government through the Leader of the House or a combination of both. Kelso (2009) characterised the dilemma of procedural reform as a contest between those who would seek to ensure that an elected majority can successfully secure their legislative program unencumbered by procedural complexities (efficiency reforms) and those who would encourage parliament to take a more proactive role (effectiveness reforms). But, as she also points out, the two categories are not necessarily mutually exclusive and both might be viewed as either advancing or detracting from the public interest.

As noted in Chapter 4, Harry Evans, former clerk of the Senate, was a staunch supporter of the Senate and a self-described ‘sceptical questioner’. His views on reform have been well publicised.¹⁴ Even though he conceded that traditional procedures and practices may have had no substantial legislative value and, in some cases, bore ‘the taint of colonialism’, he pointed out the dangers of losing useful procedures through the hostility of radical denouncers ‘jettisoning everything bearing the cursed mark of real or supposed antiquity’ (Evans 2009: 147–49). Reform of procedures and practices should be ‘careful and rigorous’ (p. 150). Parliament needed not reform but ‘reformation’ to return the institution to its original purpose (Evans 2002: 5).

Table 7.1 displays examples of procedural reforms in both parliaments designed to increase the effectiveness of scrutiny and/or deliberation, increase efficiency in transacting government business or increase public participation and/or representation. Many reforms, such as the establishment of committees, have more than one purpose. Efficiency reforms usually originate from government and are designed to smooth the passage of its legislative program. Effectiveness reforms are more likely to follow a criticism or crisis that can be exploited by willing actors, such as the Wright reforms in the United Kingdom (Norton 2000; Kelso 2009; Russell 2011b). The parliamentary agreements made during the 2010–13 parliament in Australia also fall into this category. The hybrid arrangements adopted in both parliaments in response to the Covid-19 pandemic are not easily categorised, although they have been criticised for diminishing parliament’s influence.

Table 7.1 An illustration of types of procedural reforms in the Australian and UK parliaments

Reform type	Australian Parliament	UK Parliament
Effectiveness (scrutiny)	1970 Senate Legislative and Standing Committees: Substantial contribution to parliamentary control and scrutiny, particularly estimates committees.	1979 select committees: Widely regarded as most effective form of scrutiny.
	1979–81 House of Representatives Legislation and Estimates Standing Committees: Abandoned, having failed to add to parliamentary control, partly through lack of backbench support.	2000 Royal Commission (Wakeham report): Recognised scrutiny role and self-regulation; led to review of working practices to achieve ‘constructive engagement’ between houses.
	2003 House of Representatives consideration of estimates: Including joint/concurrent hearings with Senate not pursued.	2009 Select Committee on Reform of the House of Commons (Wright Committee): Recommended greater control of parliamentary agenda; election of committee chairs; greater public participation, deemed partially successful.
Efficiency (business)	1993 Procedure Committee report About Time: Established Main Committee (renamed Federation Chamber in 2004) to facilitate legislation; also revised sitting hours.	1997 Select Committee on Modernisation of the House of Commons: Criticised as facilitating government business and neglecting parliament.
	2016 House of Representatives Procedure Committee report Division Required?: Recommended electronic voting within chamber; not considered in Senate since 1990.	2001–04 House of Lords Leader’s Group review: Review of working practices to sustain efficient scrutiny. Trial practices agreed by Procedure Committee.
Effectiveness (deliberation, participation, inclusion, representation)	1993 Main Committee/Federation Chamber (see above): Facilitating backbench participation; more amenable to consensus or collaborative decision-making.	1979 select committees: Few considered ‘agenda-setting’ but could influence policy process and contribute to debate; possible improvements include better attendance, follow-up and ability to commission research.
	1999 Procedure Committee report It’s Your House: Proposals for greater community involvement received lukewarm government response.	1997 Select Committee on Modernisation of the House of Commons: Established parallel debating chamber, Westminster Hall.
	2008 Proxy voting: This was introduced for nursing mothers in House of Representatives chamber; not permitted in Senate as arguably unconstitutional (Odgers’ Australian Senate Practice).
	2010–13 minority government: Significant reforms negotiated with Independent members, favouring parliament.	2009 Wright Committee (see above): Recommended greater public participation. Needed follow-up.
	2016 House of Representatives e-petitions: Introduced in House of Representatives ‘within existing resources’. Deemed successful; however, system made no provision for response or debate.	2015 House of Commons e-petitions: Successful collaboration with government on public engagement enabling responses and debates on social issues.
	2017 House of Representatives Procedure Committee Inquiry into Disorder: Found lukewarm support for increasing sanctions.	2016 The Good Parliament (Childs 2016): A blueprint for representation and inclusion; to enhance effectiveness and legitimacy of House of Commons; cross-party support for standards of behaviour. Commons Reference Group on Representation and Inclusion established by House of Commons Commission to respond to report.
	2018 Senate Standing Committee on Procedure Disorder Outside Formal Proceedings report: Warned against personal abuse but changes to Standing Orders considered ‘undesirable’ (p. 2).
	2019 Senate Procedure Committee: Did not recommend code of conduct for senators.	2019 Proxy voting: Pilot system introduced into House of Commons chamber.
	2020–21 House of Representatives: Periods of hybrid participation in proceedings; informal pairing during divisions during Covid-19 pandemic.	2020–21 House of Commons: Periods of temporary arrangements for hybrid participation, remote and proxy voting for members during Covid-19 pandemic.
	2020–21 Senate: Adopted rules for remote participation in proceedings for senators affected by travel restrictions, quarantine requirements or personal health advice during Covid-19 pandemic.	2020–21 House of Lords: Periods of virtual and hybrid arrangements including remote voting for peers during Covid-19 pandemic.

Sources: For Australia, Reid and Forrest (1989); House of Representatives Standing Committee on Procedure (1999, 2005, 2016, 2017, 2020); Wright and Fowler (2012); Laing (2016b); Elder and Fowler (2017); House of Representatives Standing Committee on Petitions (2018); Senate Standing Committee on Procedure (2018, 2019, 2021). For the United Kingdom, Norton (2002); House of Commons Reform Committee (2009); Kelso (2009); Russell and Benton (2011); Newson (2012); House of Commons Political and Constitutional Reform Committee (2013); Childs (2016); House of Commons Procedure Committee (2014, 2017, 2020); HC Debates (2019b). A summary of attempts at institutional reform of the House of Lords until 2014 can be found on the UK Parliament’s website (www.parliament.uk/business/lords/lords-history/lords-reform/) and a comprehensive account of earlier reforms is in Russell 2000 (see also Russell 2011a, 2013, 2017a, 2017b; Russell and Sandford 2002).

In Australia, I detected resignation among interviewees about their ability to achieve procedural reform. Then House of Representatives Clerk David Elder, while recognising that he was not a political player, thought there was a role for clerks in promoting reform by working with MPs and making suggestions. But, as he said, ‘sometimes you get sick of sticking your head up and having it shot off’.¹⁵ In his experience, the knowledge and ability of members to advocate and implement procedural reforms were variable and not currently strong, partly due to the rapid turnover of members and the loss of many years of parliamentary experience. Then Deputy Senate Clerk Maureen Weeks confirmed that most senators ‘come unwillingly to the table’ and rely heavily on the whips for the information they need.¹⁶ She saw her own role as one of anticipation rather than advocacy. Chris Paterson, former House of Representatives adviser, conceded that even sensible suggestions could only be ‘around the edges’ or during a minority government, claiming:

You’re not going to change the procedures. Procedures are there because the government and the opposition want them that way … Really, procedures will only change [if] the Leader of the House and the Manager of Opposition Business can sit down and figure out what they want to change, and if they want to change it, they’ll change it.¹⁷

Even the Wright reforms in the UK Parliament, while partly satisfying two of Norton’s conditions for reform—taking advantage of a window of opportunity and an established reform agenda—met the third condition of political will or leadership only with caveats. The Backbench Business Committee would not have been established without the support of outside groups (Russell 2011b).

I interviewed the then chairs of the Procedure Committee in both the House of Representatives and the House of Commons. Tony Pasin, from the House of Representatives, stated his commitment to reform of the Standing Orders in pursuit of the efficiency goal. He talked of shorter speaking times,¹⁸ allowing members more time to spend in their constituencies, and electronic voting, which he conceded had been on the agenda for an ‘embarrassingly long time’. He also identified an intrinsic relationship between ‘efficient’ and ‘effective’ reforms in his suggestion that making it easier to suspend members would not only increase efficiency, particularly during question time, but could also improve the public perception of parliamentary conduct. However, his tongue-in-cheek suggestion that question time should not even be broadcast, to improve the public’s perception of parliamentary behaviour, would hardly be seen as an effective response even among those who deride question time as a form of effective scrutiny. Like the clerk, Pasin confirmed there was little sense of ownership of the Standing Orders and the Procedure Committee was no longer the ‘warehouse of longstanding members like the Sinclairs and the Ruddocks’.¹⁹ He suggested a new world view that focused on technology and was not wedded to the rules could be an opportunity, but, as a backbencher, his main goal was government efficiency rather than parliamentary effectiveness.²⁰

On the other hand, Charles Walker, then Chair of the House of Commons Procedure Committee in the United Kingdom, was greatly concerned with the need for procedural reform, citing the reluctance of the executive to give back powers ceded to it by the parliament over the past 120 years. He described the need for parliament’s members to seek the permission of the executive to achieve reform as an ‘irritant’. He differentiated between types of reform attempts—for example, introducing the House of Commons Petitions Committee to replace a ‘botched, government-only system’ was part of the government’s reform agenda and therefore presented fewer challenges than other reforms. Walker’s committee was able to ‘skilfully’ steer it ‘much more towards parliament than government’ and ‘without the goose hissing too much as we plucked it’.²¹ He also recounted a well-publicised event in which he was blindsided by the government, which sought, without notice, to introduce a procedural reform that would have threatened the re-election of controversial and independently minded Speaker Bercow.²² The attempt by the executive to manipulate a suggested ‘effectiveness’ reform to remove a perceived impediment to its own efficiency was defeated and Walker’s reputation for independence and political will was roundly applauded in the House of Commons and elsewhere (Hardman 2015; HC Debates 2015; Simons 2015). The political will required to advocate for the role of parliament appears more prevalent in the UK House of Commons than in Australia’s House of Representatives—perhaps encouraged by a larger backbench. This claim is diminished, however, by the controversial resolution by the former Leader of the House Jacob Rees-Mogg against the wishes of the Procedure Committee, many members and external commentators to discontinue the acclaimed virtual parliament, including remote voting, introduced at the peak of the Covid-19 pandemic (White 2020a). A large majority and a three-line whip will usually win the day for a government determined to have its way. And, despite commitment by successive Procedure Committee chairs to introduce effective procedural reform, we cannot assume an ongoing interest by the House of Commons itself; we saw in Chapter 6 Paul Evans’s dismissive assessment. There is also a continuing problem of inconsistent and archaic Standing Orders and a lack of interest from the government in reviewing and redrafting them.²³ Progress has been slow due in part to the effects of devolution and the early election in 2017 (House of Commons Procedure Committee 2017). In the House of Lords, procedural reform is strongly influenced by its culture of self-regulation and attempted large reforms to the composition of the House have a long history.²⁴ But the Lords themselves are recognising the need to ‘self-regulate’ towards a more contemporary and efficient advisory chamber.²⁵

Effective procedural management requires procedural experts, elected or not, to combine their expertise and judgement and exercise collective agency in fulfilling Norton’s conditions for procedural reform—not least by exploiting opportunities or crises, but perhaps more enduringly by establishing a coherent reform agenda and amassing the necessary political will to make considered improvements to parliamentary practice. But success is by no means assured. Before completing this section, I will outline two controversial procedural events that unfolded in the UK Parliament in January 2019, which go to the heart of the dilemmas highlighted in my study: the question of who speaks for parliament; the use of authority amid calls for impartiality; continuity versus change, efficiency versus effectiveness (or government versus parliament); and meeting public expectations (see Boxes 7.1 and 7.2). The events concern Speaker Bercow’s decision to override an established procedure during the Brexit withdrawal Bill (Box 7.1) and the actions of a senior clerk in advising a member on procedural tactics (Box 7.2).

Box 7.1 A voice for parliament or a danger to democracy?

On 9 January 2019, Speaker John Bercow decided to accept an amendment tabled by a conservative member of the House, Dominic Grieve (also known as a rebel Tory and a Brexit ‘Remainer’), to a government business motion relating to Section 13(1)(b) of the European Union (Withdrawal) Act 2018, despite a precedent that only a Minister of the Crown could move a motion to vary the order of government business. The amendment had the effect of requiring the prime minister to table an alternative plan within three days of any defeat of the government’s withdrawal motion (the Brexit deal). Support for the Speaker’s decision was divided, with some claiming it was an exercise in sophistry; some as lacking in impartiality (Bercow having previously declared himself a Remainer); or a refutation of the advice of the Clerk of the House of Commons. Others welcomed the Speaker’s decision to act on behalf of a significant grouping within the House (HC Debates 2019a). Press commentary was also divided between outrage and support. An article in The Economist (Bagehot 2019), while noting the Speaker’s job was an extraordinarily difficult one, requiring ‘subtle choices between lots of different rulebooks … produced over the centuries’, also warned that Bercow ‘will have to make far more complicated and delicate decisions than he has ever made before’ and that to lean too far in one direction ‘risks damaging not just himself but the House of Commons’ and, potentially, the whole institution. Bercow himself appeared to be aware of the perils of exercising his authority. He justified his decision to his colleagues in the House thus: If we were guided only by precedent, manifestly nothing in our procedures would ever change. Things do change. I have made an honest judgment. If people want to vote against the amendment, they can; and if they want to vote for it, they can. (HC Debates 2019a) In an interview with the author, on 17 September 2018, well before the controversial decision and after giving due recognition to both sides of the Brexit debate, Bercow offered this foresight: What’s my role in all this? As you know, it’s not to speak, and not to vote unless there’s a tie, but it is for me to decide, ‘If there are amendments to be selected, which amendments do I select, and how many different votes are allowed?’ and so on. These are matters that can’t really be discussed in the abstract. They can only be discussed in the particular, and they can only be decided at the time. So, when anybody asks me about it, I always say: ‘These are the considerations, but I will have to make a judgement about it at the time.’ Of course, I will consult the clerk, but in the end I’ll have to do what I think is right. The debate was put into context by a former clerk, Andrew Kennon, who opined that the government ‘must now be regretting the opportunity missed in 2010 to put the planning of Commons business on to a firmer footing’ by supporting a unified House Business Committee comprising representatives of all parts of the House (Kennon 2019).

Sources: BBC News (2019); Boulton (2019); Perkins (2019).

Box 7.2 A Commons coup or merely advice?

On 20 January 2019, The Sunday Times reported that the ‘rebel MP’ Dominic Grieve had been ‘in secret communications with Colin Lee, the Clerk of Bills, with the explicit intention of suspending Britain’s departure from the EU’ (Shipman 2019). According to the report, the clerk drew up three versions of advice, each of which would overturn ‘centuries of parliamentary precedent’. Apparently, the official was effectively overturning the normal rules of parliament. Brexiteers were appalled. However, according to the Commons Press Office (2019): ‘It is common practice for Clerks to provide advice to members on the drafting of many items of Parliamentary business, such as bills, motions and amendments. This advice is done on a rigorously impartial basis.’ And David Natzler, then Clerk of the House of Commons, subsequently called The Sunday Times’s ‘insinuations’ a ‘gross misrepresentation of the nature of the relationship between Clerks and Members of Parliament’ and called for a correction and apology (Natzler 2019a).

Having established a context for procedural reform, including the difficulties inherent in achieving it, I now present three dilemmas that highlight the case for change over continuity.

The dilemma of changing behaviours to meet public expectations

The Inter-Parliamentary Union’s report Parliament and Democracy in the Twenty-First Century suggested that, for parliament, the key dialogue is one that runs through all policy and legislation debates—that is, how to shape the future by ‘treating the past as a source for creative change rather than merely as an obstacle to progress’ (Beetham 2006: 183). In these terms, I suggest, institutional change can no longer be path-dependent, slow, reluctant and incremental if parliament is to meet the expectations of society. Recent literature supports the contention that effective procedural management (again, using procedure in its broadest sense) requires an approach that goes beyond the goals of effective scrutiny and efficient government and includes issues of public interest, representation or ‘ownership’. First, an academic–practitioner collaboration between Martyn Atkins (senior House of Commons committee clerk) and Mark Goodwin (from Birmingham University) claimed the processes of modernisation in the UK Parliament have generally been internal and directed much more at the relationship between parliament and government than towards the external environment in terms of adapting to societal change or sharing power more widely among citizens. They argued:

The endeavours of the Modernisation Committee, and subsequently the Wright Committee, have produced a fair amount of parliamentary reform, albeit with a limited scope, but only slow, reluctant and incremental modernization as that term would usually be understood outside the House: that is to say, a reflection of the norms of the society which Parliament is meant to serve. (Goodwin and Atkins 2018: 301)

Professor Meg Russell, Director of the UCL Constitution Unit, suggested that more innovative parliamentary procedures were required to break the Brexit deadlock and avoid ‘procedural tricks’ that risk undermining public legitimacy—a particularly pertinent observation given the controversial procedural decisions outlined above (Russell 2019b).

Goodwin and Atkins’ ‘societal norms’ argument was also reflected in Sarah Childs’ (2016) work on The Good Parliament, a report designed to achieve a more representative House of Commons, thereby enhancing the effectiveness and legitimacy of the House. To address the ‘institutional deficiency’ identified by Childs and the report’s numerous recommendations, Speaker Bercow (himself a champion of encompassing societal norms) convened the Commons Reference Group on Representation and Inclusion to progress the report’s recommendations, working collaboratively with other parliamentary bodies (UK Parliament 2018a).²⁶ As well as highlighting concerns about gender equality and representation, The Good Parliament traversed issues of behavioural and cultural reform, calling on the Speaker to secure cross-party support for a concord regarding ‘unacceptable and unprofessional behaviour in the Chamber and more widely in the House’ (Childs 2016: 11).

The Childs report and the reference group appear to have had a positive effect across the parliament,²⁷ but the Speaker’s advocacy was overshadowed by a series of well-publicised allegations about bullying and harassment of Commons staff by some members, bringing to light a deep-seated culture that has survived many previous attempts at reform.²⁸ The allegations engulfed the House of Commons and the House of Lords and led to an independent inquiry by Dame Laura Cox (2018) and subsequent inquiries that have also had significant implications for parliamentary management in the United Kingdom.²⁹ From the perspective of this study, the bullying allegations have important ramifications for parliamentary management and public perceptions of the UK Parliament’s performance. The Cox inquiry reported in October 2018 and was scathing about the ability of the House of Commons Commission to provide an effective response to the bullying allegations, and the media was swift to call for the head of Speaker Bercow.³⁰ The report highlighted a reactive management culture that was ill equipped, even disinclined, to adopt policies and procedures that were commonplace in other workplaces. As Cox concluded:

This cycle of repeatedly reacting to crises only after they have developed into crises, and sometimes only after unwelcome publicity, is a perilous approach to adopt for any organisation, but it is completely hopeless for a place of work. And the House of Commons, for all its unusual features, is ultimately a place of work for everyone, including MPs, their staff, and all the House staff appointed by the Commission.

The problems of bullying, harassment and sexual harassment in the workplace have been well documented and well understood for decades. The law reports bear testimony to the development of the jurisprudence in these areas, much of it the result of legislation by Parliament, the irony of which was not lost on many contributors to this inquiry. At common law a duty of care is owed to members of staff by those who employ them, to ensure their safety and dignity at work, and most employers have long had policies, procedures and training programmes in place to tackle this kind of behaviour. (Cox 2018: 25)

Cox (2018: 28) noted the HOCGC’s references to ‘complexities compounded by layers of interventions which have built on and adapted what went before rather than rationalising or restructuring it’.³¹ She suggested that little had changed culturally since. Striking a chord with the research questions posed in Chapter 1, she noted tensions between the traditional approach of the ‘guardians of the procedural’ and those seeking to introduce a more ‘corporate management culture’ as well as tensions between a customer service approach, emphasising the needs of individuals and groups, and stewardship or protection of the wider good (Cox 2018: 29). Management remained occasional and hierarchical, with a ‘calculated aloofness and a kind of sniffiness’ at anything external—part of the template for sustaining the institution and concealing its problems. Cox declared that the doctrine of ‘exclusive cognisance’ had historically been interpreted too broadly by senior administrators to resist change and avoid external scrutiny, with a chilling effect, and that parliamentary privilege should not put a member’s own conduct above the law.

The Ellenbogen inquiry into bullying and harassment in the House of Lords reported during the final stages of this study. Its findings had significant implications for the relationship between procedural and management expertise, as the extracted quotes from the report below highlight:

‘All positions of power within the administration are filled by clerks and, as a consequence, clerks are favoured in every aspect …’

‘I cannot overestimate the embeddedness of the culture that the clerk is supreme and everyone else is superfluous. Everything comes round to protect the clerk.’

‘There is a snobbery around intellect and education. Most people who work here are incredibly bright—you just have to find and tap into it.’

‘Nobody will challenge the clerks and they most definitely recruit in their own image.’

Outside the clerking structure, many senior employees considered that they were not viewed as being of equivalent rank, or importance to the organisation. (Ellenbogen 2019: 70–72)

In fact, Ellenbogen went beyond a narrow interpretation of the problems that pre-empted the inquiry to propose a radical restructure of the House of Lords administration:

[T]he knowledge and skill set required of an excellent clerk does not necessarily correlate with the knowledge and skill set required of an excellent Chief Executive Officer or Chief Operations Officer …

I recommend that, on the expiry of the Clerk of the Parliaments’ current tenure (that is, with effect from 16 April 2020), a Director General of the House of Lords be appointed. That person should be able to demonstrate considerable experience and expertise in running other complex organisations, including in the private sector. He or she should have overarching responsibility for delivery of services to Members of the House and the public, serve as Accounting Officer and be the person to whom all staff in the Administration, including the Clerk of the Parliaments, should ultimately report. (The reporting structure adopted in the House of Commons, as between the Director General and the Clerk of the House, is, in my view, apt to create problematic and conflicting reporting lines and is over-reliant on the willingness of the particular incumbents of each role in order to work effectively. I do not recommend the adoption of that model in the House of Lords.) Under the system that I do recommend, clerks would retain their highly specialist, procedural roles, for which they are rightly respected, and would continue to have management responsibilities, but would have no special status as a group …

I recommend that no clerk should be eligible to apply for, or be appointed to, any one of the three most senior clerking posts, without first having spent a significant period of time working outside Parliament and the Civil Service, gaining fresh perspectives, expertise and experience. I make the same recommendation in relation to the most senior management posts elsewhere in the Administration. (Ellenbogen 2019: 124–25)

Despite the many good intentions revealed in the Childs report and accompanying efforts towards procedural and cultural change across both houses following the Cox and Ellenbogen reports, the lasting public impression is of a parliament unable to manage its culture. The impression is only amplified by the 2020–21 external management review of the House of Lords (Leslie and Mohr 2021).

No less significant, given later developments, were allegations of bullying, harassment, sexual misconduct and poor behaviour raised against members in the Australian Parliament. An independent investigation in 2018 into complaints against a female MP, Emma Husar, by her staff was conducted by barrister John Whelan, through the member’s political party, and was not made public, although its findings were reported in the media.³² The Barnaby Joyce affair³³ was seen as an example of poor judgement and a possible misuse of parliamentary entitlements³⁴ and did nothing to improve the reputation of parliamentarians. Neither, it seems, did the consequent knee-jerk amendments to the ministerial code of conduct—the ‘bonking ban’ (Murphy 2018a; Remeikis 2018a). A further example of poor workplace culture and behaviour was the claim by one of the Liberal Party’s few women MPs, Julia Banks, that she had been harassed by her own colleagues during the Turnbull leadership challenge (Australia, House of Representatives 2018; Crowe 2018). Her decision to see out the rest of the parliamentary term as an Independent member cost the then new Morrison government its majority in parliament. At the same time, Banks took the opportunity to call out both parties on women’s representation in parliament, the lack of an independent whistleblower system and a workplace culture ‘years behind’ the business world:

Equal representation of men and women in this parliament is an urgent imperative which will create a culture change. There’s the blinkered rejection of quotas and support of the merit myth, but this is more than a numbers game. Across both major parties, the level of regard and respect for women in politics is years behind the business world. There is also a clear need for an independent whistleblower system, as found in many workplaces, to enable reporting of misconduct of those in power without fear of reprisal or retribution. (Australia, House of Representatives 2018: 11571)

Accusations of unparliamentary behaviour in the Senate also led to a rare intervention by Senate President Ryan—described as ‘a one-man operation against intensifying political insanity’—to curtail the use of senate procedures to facilitate ‘unedifying’ behaviour following Senator Matt O’Sullivan’s offensive remarks and insinuations allegedly directed towards Senator Sarah Hanson-Young (Murphy 2018c; Australia, Senate 2018: 8775).³⁵ Staff working for MPs in Australia are employed by members or ministers on behalf of the Commonwealth under the Members of Parliament (Staff) Act 1984, on terms and conditions established in accordance with the Fair Work Act 2009, but these legislative provisions have not prevented cultural shortcomings in the parliamentary workplace, confusion about authority and practice and a shortage of management skills. O’Malley (2018) described the parliamentary workplace thus:

There is one thing, though, that all staff agree upon. Parliamentary staff work in a terrible environment and have been failed not just by individual MPs, not just by political parties, and not just by the exhausting, needlessly adversarial nature of our political process, but also by Parliament itself. Even in the best of circumstances, Parliament House has a special way of making staffers miserable.

O’Malley reported on a former member and doctor, Mal Washer, who described Parliament House as a prison, exacerbated by high stress, intense competition and long working days. He claimed political staff and MPs had ‘nowhere to go when things go wrong’ and ‘the parties are determined to hide any hint of scandal’. To most staff, it is not clear who the employer really is—the individual MP (as is the case in the United Kingdom) or the Department of Finance. Neither appears to take responsibility for staff wellbeing. The national parliament is isolated from the voters outside and the occupants are disconnected from each other (Murphy 2018d; Warhurst 2018). The then shadow leader of the House of Representatives (now prime minister), Anthony Albanese, pointed to features of the parliamentary building itself that contribute to members’ loneliness and isolation and an intolerance of opposing views. Returning to the Husar allegations, a Sydney Morning Herald editorial (SMH 2018) laid primary responsibility at the feet of the senior ranks of her party, raising a further dichotomy between what constitutes party politics and what constitutes parliamentary business. The unpublished Whelan report recommended the Ministerial and Parliamentary Services Branch of the Department of Finance review processes for resolving staff complaints, and there are continuing calls for a code of conduct for all MPs (Brien 1998; Senate Committee of Senators’ Interests 2012; Ng 2018; AHRC 2021). These insights into cultural and behavioural issues are not new: there have been many previous calls for training and assistance for members (see Coghill et al. 2007, 2012; Lewis 2012) and a greater appreciation of what they do (Crewe 2010, 2015). Weinberg (2013) and Flinders et al. (2018b) call for greater scholarly attention to MPs’ mental wellbeing and a study published in The British Medical Journal highlighted the growing incidence of mental health problems among MPs (Poulter et al. 2019).

Turning to public expectations of the Australian Parliament, on 26 November 2018, then Independent MP for Indi Cathy McGowan introduced the National Integrity Commission Bill 2018, accompanied by the National Integrity (Parliamentary Standards) Bill 2018, with the objective of promoting public trust and confidence in parliament and parliamentarians and ensuring their responsibilities reflected community expectations. Comparisons can be drawn with UK reforms—in particular, the establishment of the Committee on Standards in Public Life (the Nolan Committee), which led to a code of conduct for members and the creation of the Office of Parliamentary Commissioner for Standards (CSPL 2002). Under pressure, on 13 December 2018, the Morrison government finally announced its own version of a Commonwealth integrity commission (CIC), after dismissing the need for one as a fringe issue, but it was widely criticised for being limited in scope and power and without transparency (see, for instance, Coorey 2018). From a reading of the discussion paper issued by the Attorney-General’s Department (2018), its proposals were not as encompassing as those included in the McGowan Bill, which aimed to ‘boost public confidence in the … parliament by equipping it to prevent, manage and resolve its own integrity issues wherever possible’ (McGowan 2018: 4; emphasis added). McGowan’s proposal eschewed a culture of public naming and shaming, preferring to create a ‘national culture of integrity, where the expectation is that “we [parliamentarians] be our best selves”’ (p. 2). McGowan seized a window of opportunity (increased crossbench influence) and engaged constructively with the problem of public perception. Although her successor as an Independent member, Helen Haines, indicated that she would continue McGowan’s advocacy and subsequently introduced the Australian Federal Integrity Commission Bill 2020, as of December 2021, the government had not agreed to bring it on for debate nor had it introduced its own bill (Australia, House of Representatives 2021b). (The Albanese Labor Government introduced the National Anti-Corruption Commission Bill 2022 on 28 September 2022.)

The aggressive nature of parliamentary relationships is fuelled by party politics, as we have seen from the broad-ranging Jenkins inquiry into the culture of Commonwealth parliamentary workplaces following allegations of a sexual assault in a minister’s office and a subsequent alleged political coverup (AHRC 2021). Unfortunately, the public impression of parliamentary behaviour belies the extent of cooperation and collaboration behind the scenes, including in committee work, all-party groups and on national and parliamentary ceremonial occasions.

It is worth observing, in terms of minimising the differences between parliaments and other public organisations, that a culture that allows bullying and harassment and sanctions poor behaviour is not unique to the parliamentary institution; one has only to note the findings of investigations into other institutions.³⁶ This is not to absolve parliaments of their responsibility to stamp out such behaviour; rather, it is to draw attention to the opportunity for them to learn from the experiences of other non-parliamentary institutions and provide leadership in return. Arguably, for parliaments, a further challenge is that even if they do set up processes for overseeing workplace culture, an absence of authority or collective will for tackling problems may render them less than effective, as appears to be the case in both the United Kingdom and Australia. By taking a broad view of procedural change to include behaviour and culture, I have sought to establish that necessary reform goes beyond conserving traditions or concepts of exclusivity, independence and sovereignty. It also needs to balance the tensions between efficiency and effective scrutiny with meeting public expectations in an increasingly complex environment. Achieving an acceptable workplace culture does not come without significant effort and cost, as both parliaments have demonstrated.

The dilemma of speaking or listening? How should our parliaments engage with the public?

Public engagement has become a key priority for many institutions and parliament is no exception (Leston-Bandeira and Walker 2018). In this respect, the UK Parliament seems to be more adventurous than its Australian counterpart. It is difficult to measure the effectiveness of public engagement outputs and one could argue that the higher level of activity in the United Kingdom is driven by a poorer public perception of democracy, but this assumption is not borne out by the evidence. According to a global survey conducted by the Pew Research Center (Wike et al. 2017), only 52 per cent of people in the United Kingdom were satisfied with the way democracy was working; for Australia, the figure was slightly higher at 58 per cent. However, the Trust and democracy in Australia report, compiled by the Museum of Australian Democracy (MoAD) and the University of Canberra (Stoker et al. 2018), found that satisfaction with how democracy works in Australia had fallen from 71 per cent in 2013 to 41 per cent, suggesting a much starker picture comparatively. This report also canvassed citizen satisfaction with political institutions; unfortunately, it did not include parliament itself as a political institution, thus making it more difficult to measure the Australian Parliament’s public standing. Similar concerns with democracy in Australia have been identified by the Lowy Institute (Oliver 2018; Kassam 2019)³⁷ and the Australian Election Study (Cameron and McAllister 2016).

The Hansard Society monitors perceptions and knowledge of the UK Parliament in its annual audits of political engagement (2017, 2018, 2019). Its 2017 audit found that satisfaction with parliament was on a shallow downward trajectory; in 2017, only 30 per cent of people were at least ‘fairly satisfied’ with the way parliament worked. Seventy-three per cent felt that parliament was essential to democracy and consistent support, averaging 88 per cent, was shown for the importance of its core functions; however, only 33 per cent felt that parliament had done a good job in carrying them out (Hansard Society 2017: 27–30). In 2018, it found that although knowledge of parliament and politics had risen over the life of the audit (since 2004), most people remained political bystanders rather than active citizens and ‘too often, the political reform agenda had been driven not by constitutional principle but by the requirements of party or media management’. It called for a ‘comprehensive examination of electoral and constitutional arrangements, and the culture and practice of politics’ (Hansard Society 2018: 11). Alarmingly for advocates of democracy, the 2019 audit found that 42 per cent of respondents thought the government could deal with the United Kingdom’s problems more effectively if it did not have to worry about votes in parliament. In an interesting twist, the National Centre for Social Research in its latest survey of British political attitudes found that claims the Brexit stalemate would stimulate disenchantment among voters and discourage them from political involvement could be overdrawn. Although there were signs that trust and confidence in how the country was being governed fell to a record low, it appears the Brexit debate has increased voters’ interest in politics rather than fostered disengagement (Curtice et al. 2020). The implications of this finding for public understanding of and engagement with parliament remain unclear.

There are also numerous reports and studies on enhancing public engagement, such as those published by the Hansard Society, the Australasian Study of Parliament Group and parliamentary committees. Significant among these was the 2005 Puttnam Commission (Hansard Society 2005), which found that the UK Parliament had consistently failed to present itself as the sum of its parts and stay abreast of developments and opportunities. It cautioned that the level of ‘informed, transparent and engaged democracy’ that citizens had come to expect was comparatively expensive but ‘cut-price democracy will never represent much of a bargain’ (Hansard Society 2005: vii). The House of Representatives Standing Committee on Procedure (1999), inquiring into community involvement, also recommended more resources for engagement as well as greater power to self-refer and greater media coverage for committees, but it received a negative response from the government. Interviewees in both parliaments highlighted difficulties in managing public engagement activities, both in prioritising expenditure and in evaluating its effectiveness.³⁸ The dilemma here, even if a consensus can be reached on resourcing parliamentary communications, is the consistent evidence that citizens are turning their backs on democratic engagement while appearing to agree that democracy is important. According to Stoker et al. (2018), they are challenging the allegiant model of democratic culture, with its features of deference and trust, while valuing stability in the political system. But they are not turning to new and more critical forms of participation as envisaged by an assertive model; rather, they are reflecting a culture of disengagement, cynicism and divergence from political elites. Indeed, as we have seen in the United Kingdom, a significant proportion of voters have suggested that democracy is now becoming less important. We have already noted the public’s tendency to conflate parliament, politicians and government, and this further complicates any evaluation of the effectiveness of a parliament’s public engagement activities. Effective public engagement appears to be a ‘wicked’ or intractable problem (Rittel and Webber 1973; Head and Alford 2015).³⁹ Parliamentary actors see themselves as promoters and preservers of democracy while remaining divided about how best to exercise their roles and evaluate their effectiveness. Meanwhile, members of the public appear to be increasingly disparaging about parliamentary effectiveness and display little interest in understanding how parliament works within the democratic system, even if they are at times stimulated by the political process.

Communications professionals Weerasinghe and Ramshaw (2018) claim that diffuse lines of authority make parliamentary communications a more challenging prospect than political communication generally; the messages communicated by impartial officials on behalf of parliamentary institutions must balance the competing narratives and priorities of all members. Again, officials emphasise the differences between parliament and other public activities. However, a reading of a major report on government communications with citizens worldwide (WPP Government & Public Sector Practice 2019) suggests the challenges are equally daunting, including increasingly fragmented audiences, an overreliance on one-way ‘broadcast’ communication and a lack of communication and influencing skills.

Public engagement, or outreach, has multiple dimensions and this book cannot provide an in-depth analysis of its development over time. The UK and Australian parliaments do play a valuable public education role, particularly in activities directed at young people, and information about these activities can be readily found on each parliament’s website. In this account, I discuss three types of engagement: the institutional representation of parliament and its work to the public, encouraging public participation and facilitating members’ individual constituency roles. Acknowledging Head and Alford’s (2015) approach, I argue that these are all functions that require a public management approach (rather than a routine or procedural one) with an emphasis on collaboration across organisational structures.

Institutional representation of parliament to the public

Judge and Leston-Bandeira (2018: 155) cite the growing significance of institutional representation when ‘basic assumptions about the legitimacy of parliamentary institutions come under sustained critical questioning’. They point to evidence showing that the public does not view politicians as parliamentarians and that parliament itself struggles with its identity as a holistic institution (see also Kelso 2007b; Leston-Bandeira 2014; Walker 2019). Members do not as a rule engage in institutional representation and this role falls to presiding officers and, increasingly, to non-elected parliamentary officials (Judge and Leston-Bandeira 2018). This ‘hollowing out’ of parliament’s institutional representation is compounded by political leaders (amplified by the media) seeking to gain an electoral advantage by referring to the Westminster or Canberra ‘bubble’ (Cadwalladr 2016; Cowley 2015; Hayne 2018)—a less than constructive representation of their respective institutions that does nothing to enhance their reputations. Leston-Bandeira confirmed her views on institutional representation in our interview:

[T]here is, increasingly, a role for officials to be that public face, almost like defending an institution, or at least presenting an institution. I usually call clerks and officials the guardian angels of parliament because they’re very much about trying to show what the institution is for, despite all the politics. The fact that they were not doing that role explicitly for a long time didn’t really matter, because politics wasn’t so antagonised, and you got on with things, even if you didn’t like a particular party or a particular government. But as politics has become so corrosive, what’s left is just the bones of it, the structures, and that’s the institution. It’s almost like a reminder: why do we have this system? And it’s because we can’t have 60 million people making the decisions all the time. We need representatives to do that.⁴⁰

The question of parliamentary representation and overcoming the ‘trust gap’ is complicated at the outset by diffused authority, competing messages and internal disengagement by MPs from their collective institutional representational role even if they are committed to representing their individual constituents. The role falls, as Judge and Leston-Bandeira (2018) suggest, to presiding officers and officials, but not without controversy.

Reformist Speaker Bercow set up the Digital Democracy Commission with the aim, among other things, of counteracting the alienating jargon and practices of the House and taking a constructive approach to ameliorating the insularity of parliament. He saw the weight of information about politics acting as a wall, ‘keeping the citizen out of the mysterious world of Westminster’ (DDC 2015). Williamson and Fallon (2011: 790) researched the influence of technology on parliaments’ internal processes and relationships with the public in the United Kingdom, Canada, Chile and Australia, finding that ‘going digital’ allowed parliaments to escape from traditional practices, supplement archaic language with accessible information and provide better tools for members to understand the legislative process. Both the UK and the Australian parliaments have published digital strategies, but they reflect different emphases. The UK Parliament appears to recognise the potential for digital technology to transform the way parliament works; it includes a culture of collaboration and openness in its guiding principles. The Australian Parliament appears to privilege more technical outcomes; its principles include a focus on user experience and partnership with other parliamentary departments (Parliament of Australia 2019; UK Parliament 2019a).

There are pitfalls to greater public engagement, notwithstanding digital innovation. A major impediment is resourcing and, even if we agree with Puttnam that cut-price democracy is not the answer, the public appears to have little appetite for more spending by parliaments, as is evidenced by the debate over the restoration and renewal of the Palace of Westminster (Flinders et al. 2019). Another factor, reported by the Hansard Society (2018), is that digital and online technologies are still far from overtaking traditional sources of information and almost half of respondents to its annual audit thought social media made political debate more divisive or superficial. Weerasinghe and Ramshaw (2018) argued that the public is simply not interested in engaging with parliament or being involved in decision-making. Flinders et al. (2018b: 258) argued that efforts to open parliament to the public may have made its members even ‘more vulnerable to popular cynicism, a disinterested and hyper-critical commercial media, and the immediacy of snap online reprimands’. Nevertheless, not to engage with the public would be a false economy that could further threaten confidence in parliament. The pitfalls of public engagement should not diminish its value, including efforts in both parliaments to promote their parliamentary buildings as representative democratic symbols by improving visitor access and experiences and even providing opportunities for reshaping politics (Flinders et al. 2019). But as we saw in Chapter 6, there are internal dilemmas in both parliaments about the priority accorded to these activities by different actors.⁴¹

Participatory approaches to engagement

I turn now to the second public engagement challenge I have identified. In a comprehensive House of Commons Library Briefing Paper, Uberoi (2017) noted the growth of public engagement activities in response to declining trust and political engagement.⁴² The paper drew attention to calls for change, from traditional forms of engagement to a more participatory approach—in other words, from ‘representational’ or ‘speaking’ to ‘participatory’ or ‘listening’. But this change also has its challenges. According to Kelso (2007b), it is not clear whether parliament really wants to foster participation as a new form of political involvement; it was never an intrinsically democratic institution; neither, as I have noted, is either parliament a united institution with a corporate identity.⁴³

Parliamentary committees are increasingly viewed as a key component of parliamentary activity, not only for holding the executive to account—sometimes in adversarial and partisan forums—but also in allowing wider input to policy development. We can look to this area for new approaches to improving public participation and increasing parliamentary effectiveness. Writing about the Australian Parliament in the twenty-first century, Halligan et al. (2007) provided an in-depth analysis of the policy roles of committees—scrutiny, legislative appraisal, review and strategic investigation—and cited public interaction and communication as a further responsibility. They concluded that the most important effect of decades of growth in parliamentary committee work was the opportunity it offered for broader participation in policy development. They suggested ‘outside engagement may come to be of the highest significance for the functioning of the parliament as the leading institution of representative democracy in Australia’ (Halligan et al. 2007: 238). Marsh and Miller (2012), Marsh (2016), Forkert (2017), Gaines et al. (2019) and Hendriks and Kay (2019) acknowledged the role parliamentary committees can play in democratic renewal and citizen participation in the political system. The current and potential roles of committees in enhancing parliamentary effectiveness have until recently been understudied, particularly in Australia (Russell and Benton 2011; Marsh and Halpin 2015). The impact of parliamentary policy is also ‘notoriously difficult to assess, as it can take many forms, some of which are largely invisible’ (Russell and Benton 2011: 7).

A comprehensive comparison of the work of committees in both houses of the UK and Australian parliaments and their influence on policy debate and outcomes was beyond the scope of this study, but it is apparent the UK Parliament has advanced further and more reflexively in developing ways to increase the influence of committees on parliamentary effectiveness and policy outcomes, and the committee structure itself is more conducive to achieving greater influence.⁴⁴ For example, House of Commons select committees decide their own topics of inquiry and most undertake a mix of inquiries into ongoing government actions and those that are likely to be ‘agenda-setting’. Following recommendations from the Wright Committee on House of Commons reform, most select committee chairs are elected (on a party proportional basis) by a secret ballot of all members, with committee members then elected by secret ballot within their parties (Russell and Benton 2011).⁴⁵ Committees themselves seem more willing to evaluate their own effectiveness. While acknowledging the risk of drawing subjective conclusions, Russell and Benton found that House of Commons select committees were taken seriously by government and ‘have become an established and respected part of the system’. Nevertheless, they noted that factors such as poor follow-through on recommendations, a lack of original research, poor attendance by members and a lack of focus all contributed to the ongoing problem of committee work not being taken seriously enough.

In the foreword to a 2015 Institute of Government study into the impact of parliamentary committee inquiries on government, Tony Wright, former chair of the House of Commons Reform Committee, pointed to systemic problems with the organisation and leadership of House of Commons select committees. He articulated what might be achieved

if the select committee system set about the task of making itself as effective as it might be. Committees are not good at evaluating what they do and working out how they might do things better. They are often unclear about the outcomes they want to achieve and the sort of impact they want to make. There is a difference between making a headline and making an impact. An individual committee may not work collectively enough to maximise its effectiveness; and committees may be more concerned with protecting their own territory than exploring how they might work together … There is also an issue about the leadership and organisation of the select committee system as a whole, with the capacity to drive improvement and performance … [C]ommittees are good at asking questions of others, but they need to be as good at asking questions of themselves. (Wright, in White 2015: i)

Like Russell and Benton, White’s study found an absence of feedback processes and she also noted a tendency for committees to operate in silos, suggesting that committee chairs should work together to drive crosscutting work by actively identifying emerging issues within the remit of several committees.

Lately, however, in the United Kingdom, the focus on committee influence has shifted to public input. Russell and Cowley (2016) pointed to evidence-taking by select committees as an important means of parliamentary engagement with pressure groups and bureaucrats. Rogers and Walters (2015) highlight the ‘delayed drop’ effect of select committee reports, which can change the nature of public debate. Leston-Bandeira and Thompson (2017) noted calls to integrate public participation directly into parliament’s processes and highlighted the potential of mechanisms such as the public reading stage of a bill to incorporate alternative viewpoints. Former House of Commons select committee chairs Clive Betts and Sarah Wollaston used a citizens’ assembly to find consensus within their committees (Health and Social Care and Housing, Communities and Local Government) for the long-term funding of adult social care (Betts and Wollaston 2018).⁴⁶ Gaines et al. (2019) suggest the United Kingdom’s select committees may be increasingly useful in mobilising public opinion.

In 2019, commemorating 40 years in operation of the departmental select committee system in the United Kingdom, the House of Commons Liaison Committee inquired into the effectiveness and influence of the select committee system.⁴⁷ It agreed with Professor Leston-Bandeira’s evidence that the assumption behind ‘making work accessible to the parliament’, created in 2012 as a core public engagement task for committees, implied a broadcasting mode designed to inform the public about parliament’s work. Instead, Leston-Bandeira submitted, public engagement is also about listening to the public and reflecting the public view in parliamentary business. The committee devoted a chapter of its report to public engagement and the need ‘to listen to those with lived experience’. It made a number of suggestions for improving current public engagement practice, including taking a more strategic or purposeful approach, increasing accessibility, monitoring and recording engagement practice across committees, consistently presenting information obtained through public engagement in committee reports, providing feedback to participants and facilitating dialogue through the use of digital tools. It noted, too, the success of the abovementioned Citizens’ Assembly on Social Care, while acknowledging that public engagement of this type is resource intensive and would require further consideration by the House. Perhaps of greatest relevance to the themes contained within this book were the committee’s recommendations targeted at gaining access to a diverse range of research information, as reflected in the chapter’s concluding comments:

The impact that committees have is crucially dependent on the information and evidence that they have access to. We must continue to widen and diversify the range of voices we hear from, and we should listen carefully to those who have a professional commitment to impartiality. Our conclusions and recommendations would benefit from access to the rich body of knowledge held by the academic and third sectors and membership bodies, as well as those with lived experience. We must endeavour to create the conditions which enable us to have access to the best research evidence available. We must be flexible and imaginative in tailoring the style and pace of our interactions to those we are communicating with. We must welcome and encourage those who might not otherwise be heard to come forward. The wider the range of voices we hear, the more effective and influential our findings are likely to be. And the more we work in partnership with others, the more likely we are to be heard. (HCLC 2019: 67–68)

As with most factors related to committee effectiveness, it will take time to determine the success of these public participation initiatives.

The Australian Parliament appears not to have benefited from similar comprehensive and collaborative evaluations of its committee systems since the analysis provided by Halligan et al. (2007). Monk (2009a) offered a framework based on surveys of stakeholders followed by a statistical analysis of government responses to committee reports (Monk 2009b). In 2010, the House of Representatives Standing Committee on Procedure recommended additional resources and greater use of emerging digital technologies to enhance parliament’s relationship with the public. It received a lukewarm government response in 2015, which noted that a review by parliamentary departments was under way. Marsh and Halpin (2015) quantified participation in parliamentary committee work based on committee activity in senate committees between 2010 and 2012, finding that most hearings attracted very little interest and evidence-giving could be considered a one-way attempt by pressure groups to exercise influence. They concluded that a comprehensive assessment was overdue and asked whether committees could ‘occupy a more prominent role in outreach or more inclusive policy analysis and development’ (Marsh and Halpin 2015: 147).

Hendriks et al. (2019) also noted that specific empirical studies of public engagement in parliamentary studies are rare. Their assessment of participatory adaptation in contemporary parliamentary committees in Australia is therefore illuminating. Although their study included insights from the committee systems within six Australian parliaments, and not just the federal parliament, the findings can be related to all. While some committees were found to be adapting conventional public engagement practices, changes were modest, variable, cautious and ad hoc. Four main types of adaptation included new ways to promote and publicise committee work, managing public input through digital interfaces, increasing accessibility to affected publics and building participatory capacity. Drivers of adaptation included changing public expectations and preferences, increased complexity of issues and the changing roles of politicians and political parties. Barriers included a lack of resources, participation disinterest, fatigue or lack of knowledge of parliamentary procedures, including privilege issues.

Hendriks et al. (2019) found inter alia that adaptation was rarely the result of strategic initiatives in Australian parliaments. Arguably, this makes it unlikely that committees will take on the task of ‘agenda-setting’ or ‘strategic review’ in response to a weakened advocacy of policy agendas by political parties. Nor does it suggest they will respond proactively to an increased citizen preference to engage in politics via specific issues about which they care. In this respect, the UK Parliament certainly appears to be ahead, particularly in the willingness of committees to work collaboratively with each other and with outside bodies, including charities, on initiatives such as establishing citizens’ assemblies to advise on key policy issues. We should note also that committees in the House of Representatives and the Senate require references from their respective houses and are not able to self-identify and inquire into contemporary policy issues as are House of Commons select committees. This factor may also act as a barrier to increasing public participation through committees. It may require other forms of deliberative democracy or alternative spaces for reflection and listening, particularly in an era when a plethora of communication means can fragment and distort debate (Ercan et al. 2019).⁴⁸

A study by Hendriks and Kay (2019) also presented a strong case for public engagement to play a more central role in the deliberative work of parliaments, especially through committees, and argued for more inclusive forms of engagement. They, too, suggested different approaches to engaging with the public, such as providing new spaces for engagement, integrating citizen deliberation, connecting with informal public activities and actively seeking out places where communities might gather to engage with them on their own terms, while noting that this would require new skills, revised procedures and greater resources. More fundamentally, it would require a cultural shift in how members see their roles in representative democracy; no longer could parliament justify its existence by ‘presenting a window to the public, allowing citizens to peer in as spectators whilst its practices remain steadfastly unchanged’ (Hendriks and Kay 2019: 43); no longer could committee members resort to standard partisan politics, blame games and media management.

Public input to the task of making the parliament and its members function more effectively is rare. Public attention to parliament usually follows a crisis in governance, as demonstrated by the expenses/entitlements and bullying/harassment scandals outlined earlier, and media exposure of alleged administrative shortcomings. Consequently, public reaction tends to be exceptionally critical—of the ‘a plague a’both your houses’⁴⁹ variety—perpetuating the myths surrounding the parliamentary decline thesis (Flinders and Kelso 2011).⁵⁰ Poor public perceptions of parliamentary effectiveness will not disappear easily. As the 2019 audit by the Hansard Society (2019) revealed, amid great concern, such perceptions increase the potential for citizens to shun parliament, with consequential implications for the future of representative democracy (Fox and Blackwell 2019).

Practitioners and academics in the United Kingdom have at least tried to grasp the nettle in terms of exploring new ways of engaging with the public, including through narratives and storytelling (Prior 2018). David Clark, head of the UK Parliament’s outreach program, said:

You can’t talk about parliament in just a procedural, factual way because it is an emotional thing that people need to interact with. And that’s when people get excited about it. You need to help them connect with parliament on an emotional level, otherwise they will never get it.⁵¹

Penny Young, House of Commons Librarian and Director-General of Information Services, claimed to spend much of her time telling stories with data:

We don’t really produce our content for a time-poor, mobile audience of members … [We are] encouraging people not to lose quality, not to lose relevance, not to lose impartiality but to be hugely more accessible … [I]t’s about being more compelling in the way we write.⁵²

Both parliaments and their members invest in traditional forms of engagement, including school visits, visits by members to constituency events, petitioning and, lately, e-petitioning. When interviewed, the presiding officers emphasised their public representational roles. In comparative terms, the UK Parliament directs more resources towards encouraging academics and the public to contribute to and engage with its work; the Australian Parliament’s activities are focused more on explaining what it does. Table 7.2 provides examples of public engagement activities in each parliament. On the face of it, the activities are broadly similar but differences in emphasis are noticeable.

Table 7.2 Examples of public engagement activities in each parliament

Type of engagement	Australian Parliament	UK Parliament
Institutional	Website: www.aph.gov.au (5.2 million visits in 2016–17); separate social media accounts, wide variety of information, live streaming of proceedings, search facilities.	Website: www.parliament.uk (15 million visits in 2016–17), invites followers to engage on numerous social media sites, including @UKParlEducation, Parliament Explained podcast, wide variety of information, live streaming of proceedings, search facilities, House of Lords ‘digital chamber’.
	Ceremonial activities, including Welcome to Country at opening of parliament.	Ceremonial activities, including State procession and opening of parliament.
	Parliamentary Education Office: Publishes resources for schools and facilitates school visits.	UK Parliament Education: Publishes resources for schools and facilitates school visits and tours, teacher training, in-class workshops.
	Museum of Australian Democracy: Parallel organisation promoting democracy, housed in Old Parliament House.	Education Centre: Workshops, immersive technology.
	Senate/House of Representatives: Fee-paying seminars for graduates and public servants on work in respective houses; annual lectures; publications and briefing notes; Senate and House practice.	How parliament works (Rogers and Walters 2015) joint publication in ‘straightforward language’ designed for public consumption, including by journalists, civil servants, academics and researchers.
Participatory and outreach	Public petitions: Presented in respective chamber, printed in Hansard, may receive response.	Public petitions: Presented in respective chamber, prescribed number of signatories guarantees response or opportunity for debate.
	Parliamentary Education Office: Interactive website for schools, school visits.	Education Centre: Immersive technology, themed learning spaces.
		Massive open online courses, including introduction to parliament.
	Senate occasional public lectures: On topics of current interest.	Parliamentary Office of Science and Technology: Seminars and events for parliamentarians and public.
		Public talks and events
	Parliament House: Visits, tours, exhibitions and events.	Houses of Parliament: Visits, tours, exhibitions and events.
	Parliamentary Library: Some research briefings, blogs, periodic fellowship program and summer scholarship award.	House of Commons Research and Information team: Services to members and public research briefings.
		Participation team: Includes bicameral public outreach, engagement and education, public information and resources.
	Members of parliament: Meeting individual constituents and visiting local organisations. Speaker and president external visits (no comparable statistics).	Members of parliament: Meeting individual constituents and visiting local organisations. Speaker and Lord Speaker (900 external engagements in 2016, with 46,000 participants).
	Joint Reconciliation Action Plan: Also Parliamentary Service Indigenous Employee Network.	Black and ethnic minorities (BAME): Targeted in engagement activities.
		Equality networks: ParliAble, Parligender, ParliREACH, ParliOUT.
	Committees: Taking public evidence; focus on explaining committee experience and procedure.	Committees: Taking public evidence; focus on encouraging involvement from public and academics, reporting on witness diversity.
	Engagement with external (non-parliamentary) organisations: ABC documentary; Australasian Study of Parliament Group.	Engagement with external (non-parliamentary) organisations: Including Hansard Society, Institute for Government, UCL Constitution Unit, BBC documentaries, Study of Parliament Group. ‘Your story, our history’ partnerships in films showing legislative impacts on people’s lives. Academic/practitioner publications—for example, Exploring parliament (Leston-Bandeira and Thompson 2018).
	Parliamentary Law Practice and Procedure course: For practitioners only, delivered through a contracted university.	Parliamentary Studies module: Delivered through more than 20 universities.
	Graduate placements	Policy internships: Parliamentary Office of Science and Technology.
		Apprenticeships and placements: Multiple, including Speaker’s scheme for those from disadvantaged backgrounds and House of Lords apprenticeships.
		Academic research: Encourages specialist academic research within research excellence framework; offers a range of academic fellowships.
	Media communications: Individual departments and committees.	Media communications: House of Lords Press Office promotes work of House and committees and handles media inquiries. House of Commons Media Relations Team handles procedural and corporate inquiries.

Sources: For Australia, Australian Parliament website (www.aph.gov.au); for United Kingdom, parliament website (www.parliament.uk); Uberoi (2017).

The increasing efforts at public participation in the UK Parliament do not appear to require a constant injection of additional resources, according to the former clerk of the House of Commons. Most ‘fresh’ money is now going to the digital service, which is where it is most needed, to stay up to date and make the parliament transparent and accessible—a ‘deliberate strategic decision’.⁵³ The UK Parliament also appears to be more open than its Australian counterpart to working with third parties, including universities, in its promotional activities, and there is greater academic input into the public engagement space (Leston-Bandeira and Thompson 2018; Kelly and Bochel 2018; Prior 2018; Asher et al. 2019). However, recent discussions with some interviewees have suggested the focus on public engagement may be waning.

Conversely, a report into Australia’s cultural institutions by the Joint Standing Committee on the National Capital and External Territories (JSCNCET 2019: viii) expressed concern that ‘relevant institutions may not be presenting a shared and consistent vision about Australian democracy, nor is there a clear delineation of the programs and activities conducted’. It recommended, inter alia, that the Parliamentary Education Office’s student programs be made accessible to the general public, not just schoolchildren, and the functions of the MoAD, the National Electoral Education Centre and the visitor and education services at Parliament House be more closely aligned, or even brought under the auspices of the presiding officers, with Old Parliament House becoming a ‘working extension of Parliament House … in relation to educational, support and visitor services’ (JSCNCET 2019: 59). The committee clearly believed there is an opportunity for greater collaboration and resource efficiency, even if the functions are presently fiercely protected by their administrators. The report was critical of the MoAD,⁵⁴ suggesting a disconnect between MoAD’s strategic role and its public engagement direction (JSCNCET 2019: viii–ix). As I noted earlier, MoAD appears to have sidelined parliament altogether in its regular surveys of trust in Australia’s democratic institutions. The JSCNCET’s recommendations contain elements of a coherent reform agenda; they await a government response.

The 2022 global report of the Inter-Parliamentary Union and UN Development Programme could not be more persuasive about the benefits of public engagement to parliaments, parliamentarians and the wider community, validating many of the points raised above. For example, it confirms a growing reliance by parliaments on digital tools; suggests that listening, and not just informing, is an essential element of engagement; highlights difficulties in overcoming a ‘blizzard of information’; and urges greater attention by parliaments to the growing public demand to influence decision-making. The report predicts that the attention by incumbent governments to key public demands has the potential to emerge as a key element of parliamentary scrutiny. It would be disappointing if current efforts to achieve effective engagement, especially in the UK Parliament, were allowed to regress through a lack of commitment or ambition, or under the cover of insufficient resources.

Members’ engagement with constituents

Finally, in terms of public engagement, I turn to the relationship between members and their constituents. Much has been written about members’ constituency roles, and this book does not provide a comprehensive account (but see Norton and Wood 1993; Rush and Giddings 2011; Lewis 2012). It is here that one might have the most sympathy for MPs when contemplating increasing workload pressures and threats to their physical security from the rapid expansion of social media and voters’ rising, often divisive, expectations of their representatives.⁵⁵ Paul Beresford, Chair of the House of Commons Administration Committee, spoke of the need to protect members from difficult constituents and incidents in their constituency offices or elsewhere.⁵⁶ One member of the House of Commons Commission raised the inherent problem of an overly critical focus on members’ expenditure. For example, although supportive of the level of transparency provided by the Independent Parliamentary Standards Authority, he remarked that he had not made a mileage claim since its establishment:

because if you do actually put up a mileage claim, you’re likely to have someone going around with a tape measure and checking whether what you claimed [to be] the distance between A and B wasn’t 100 yards longer than was actually the case.⁵⁷

Lindsay Tanner, a former Australian MP, bemoaned the changes to politicians’ behaviour occasioned by relentless trivialisation in the media of complex social and economic issues (Tanner 2012). Speaker Bercow, shortly after his election to the speakership (and the expenses scandal), declared it a ‘cruel paradox that at a time when MPs have never worked harder, their standing has rarely been lower’ (UK Parliament 2009). As I have noted from numerous sources, MPs are not particularly interested in administrative or even procedural management and reform, and nor, it appears, are their constituents. This proposition is borne out by Campbell and Lovenduski (2014), who researched the views of MPs and those who voted for them as to the most important MP roles. A large and similar percentage of MPs and voters (65.4 and 54.9 per cent, respectively) reported that the most important role for an MP was as a local advocate, ‘taking up and responding to issues and problems raised by constituents’ rather than contributing to legislation and taking part in parliamentary debates (Campbell and Lovenduski 2014: 700). Voters’ interest in politics and their social status had no significant impact on their preference for their MP to focus on local or national work, challenging assumptions that people more engaged with the political process will place a higher value on national policy work (and, presumably, representing the parliamentary institution). MPs are, in effect, social workers. Members of the House of Representatives in Australia also ranked their constituency priority highly in a study by Heitshusen et al. (2005), although the priorities varied depending on their length of service, the safety of their electorate and travel times. As my interviews with UK Parliament members Beresford and Brake revealed, constituents’ expectations of their MPs are not matched by their perceptions of the levels of financial support and resources received by MPs—further evidence of an expectations gap in terms of parliamentary effectiveness (Flinders and Kelso 2011). Stringent rules about members’ use of resources are changing the way they perform their constituency role, notwithstanding increasing demands. Lawrence McKay (2018), from the University of Manchester, summed up the dilemma when he outlined his concerns about the current state of constituency communications:

The stringent limits placed on permissible communications outlawed staples of communication such as the newsletter. MPs may also use their resources too sparingly, given that, since the expenses scandal, they understand every penny is under media and IPSA scrutiny. Meanwhile, the precipitous decline of local media may cut MPs off more and more. While social media may point to a bright future, its limits as a tool for constituent communications have been repeatedly highlighted in the literature. Communications might, theoretically, serve to build the MP–constituent relationship, but are they reaching their potential, and will their effectiveness be maintained in the years to come? (McKay 2018)

Providing effective support for members’ constituency roles requires a complex juggling of priorities, particularly within the rapidly expanding communications space, while working within the constraints of the entitlements regimes, the separation of parliamentary and political roles and new levels of security. This is particularly so in the Australian Parliament, which places a high priority on IT support for members (Roche 2012). Ian Mackenzie, then DPS chief information officer, spoke positively about the opportunities for collaborating with other parliaments in overcoming security threats while also highlighting the difficulties of managing political relationships:

Where it gets a little bit greyer is around engagement with constituents. I believe part of a parliamentarian’s job is to engage with constituents to get the sense of the electorate, because they’re representing that electorate within the parliament, and that’s important, to gain that understanding. The line can get a bit blurry where they engage with constituents for that but they also engage with constituents to get re-elected—in terms of party politics, campaigning and fundraising. We’re very clear that we can’t support anything that is around party political or around fundraising or campaigning … There has to be an element of trust and an understanding that sometimes the line is a little bit blurry.⁵⁸

Evidence available for the UK Parliament suggested a stronger focus on digital engagement with the public (HOCGC 2014; DDC 2015).⁵⁹

The foregoing discussion on managing three kinds of parliamentary engagement—institutional representation, public participation in the work of parliament and facilitating members’ individual representational roles—has illuminated more of the challenges parliamentary actors face. When the public is seemingly turning away from parliament, they must find more effective ways of enhancing the multiplicity of roles parliament plays. This is easier said than done, particularly when appropriate resourcing of parliament is a major public concern (see also Flinders et al. 2019); but the challenges cannot be avoided without creating another dilemma, as the next section will reveal.

The dilemma of consigning reforms to the too-difficult box

In the preceding sections, I have discussed parliamentary reform from several perspectives: procedural, behavioural and cultural, and public engagement. A common theme across these perspectives is public expectations. Kelso (2009) observed that calls for the UK Parliament to be reformed procedurally were commonplace in the life of British politics, and the same could be said about the Australian Parliament. But as noted in Chapter 1 of this book, calls for democratic reform from a variety of sources are becoming more numerous. Some are directed at government (see, for instance, Key 2017; Smith 2018; Richards 2019); others address both parliament and government, demonstrating once again the tendency to conflate parliament and government within the Westminster democratic system (see, for instance, Menadue 2019; Renwick and Palese 2019). Menadue (2019) provides a shopping list of potential parliamentary reforms in Australia, including four-year fixed terms; an independent Speaker to encourage more inclusive, open and less adversarial parliaments; regular audits of MPs’ entitlements and performance; more conscience votes; greater discussion of key public issues; and enhanced resources for committees and the Parliamentary Library (although without evaluating the effectiveness of those already allocated). Patience (2019) argued that federal politicians should get out of the Canberra ‘bubble’ and the two houses should spend at least half their sitting times in different capital cities, meeting local organisations. Warhurst (2018) cited senate electoral reform, an anticorruption commission and changes to the parliamentary workplace as much-needed reforms. In the United Kingdom, Photiadou and Dunleavy (2018) list current weaknesses of the House of Commons, arguing that few parts of its legislative activities work well; MPs’ behaviours are ritualistic, point-scoring and unproductive; modernisation remains stalled as a result of traditionalist objections and ex ante budget control is non-existent. In earlier chapters, I have cited longstanding attempts to reform the House of Lords’ governance (House of Lords Debates 2016; House of Lords 2016a; House of Lords House Committee 2016) and the potential loss of opportunities to modernise provided by the restoration and renewal of the Palace of Westminster (Flinders et al. 2018a, 2019). These examples are not exhaustive; they are illustrations of the public perception of what is still wrong (or now wrong) with parliament, long after the question was posed by Hill and Whichelow in 1964 and following series after series of procedural and management reforms in the interim.

The examples I have presented raise further questions about Norton’s conditions for reform: Where is the window of opportunity, the coherent set of proposals or the political leadership from the backbench or the incumbent government (or, as Judge and Leston-Bandeira 2018 have suggested, from parliamentary officials)? How can any reform process be effectively managed without being hijacked for political purposes by government; thwarted or resisted by the opposition, minority parties, officials or those parliamentarians who do not want change; or disregarded by the public? How does a parliament balance the need to preserve and protect its independence from the government at the same time as ensuring its relevance as the principal democratic institution in the Westminster system? Most importantly, in an era of mass public disaffection and cynicism, how can parliamentary actors effectively fulfil Crick’s vision of a parliament that serves the public interest?

Charles Clarke, a former UK politician, developed the idea of the ‘too-difficult box’ in a lecture series as a visiting professor at the University of East Anglia: ‘We all know what to do; we just don’t know how to get re-elected after we’ve done it.’⁶⁰ Clarke (2014) recognised that all governments find it difficult to address important issues and often set aside some as too difficult to solve within any conceivable time frame. This, he said:

creates an enormous challenge for democratic institutions and democratic politicians. They need to develop a long-term culture to deal with long-term problems. They need to promote genuine rational discussion and debate in place of populist sound bites. They need to find means of engaging politics far more directly with people. And they need to show that democratic politics really can make a difference and help people overcome the problems that they experience.

The dark and dangerous flipside of this coin is that if democracy fails to find the solutions that people are looking for they will listen to other voices, as we now see in the rise of ultra-populist and nationalist political parties across Europe. People will be impatient with possibly self-serving explanations of why problems could not be solved. The often false promises of those who peddle instant solutions will seem increasingly appealing. (Clarke 2014: 86)

Clarke may be addressing his remarks to government policymaking but they are equally relevant to sustaining the parliament. In Australia, Warhurst (2019) has also recognised the ‘democratic disconnections between big ideas and election politics’, pointing to the tendency for institutional reforms to be pushed from outside the system and noting the role of Independents in both houses ‘whose presence is one direct outcome of the perceived failure of the status quo’. As Warhurst says: ‘Business as usual is not nearly good enough.’

I have recounted numerous examples of where both parliaments have failed to develop a long-term culture to deal with long-term problems. In the United Kingdom, despite a long history of management reviews and attempts at modernisation and procedural reform, we saw continuing criticism of the inefficiency and waste highlighted by the HOCGC (2014), ineffective decision-making and widespread public contempt for members of both houses, directed particularly at their support from the public purse and manifested by regular media stories about dishonesty and venality. Long-running attempts at modernisation and procedural reform have come and gone with mixed effectiveness. The clash between the Platonists/Methuselahs and the Aristotelians/Modernists continues (Evans 2014, 2017). Perhaps still consigned to the too-difficult box are the restoration and renewal of the Palace of Westminster, reform of the House of Lords and changing the culture and behaviour of those enjoying the benefits of their ‘gentlemen’s club’ within the Westminster ‘bubble’. Members’ behaviour is still (always) in the spotlight. In the meantime, questions about members’ relationships with their constituents and parliament’s relationship with the executive and the public continue to be raised without a clear strategy for determining what parliament might look like and how it might operate in the future.

The decision not to implement a key recommendation of the highly critical Ellenbogen review that the House of Lords administration should be headed by a newly appointed director-general may not signify a return to the status quo, but it still falls short of the radical change called for by many staff. The House of Commons administration has appeared to take a step backwards in terms of management authority and public engagement, while retaining some key elements of the Bercow legacy, including greater diversity.

The eagerness of members in both parliaments to return to pre-pandemic operations is also illustrative of the problem. The 2020 World e-Parliament report suggests ways in which parliaments worldwide can build on innovations developed during the pandemic such as making permanent changes to rules so that parliament can function remotely and virtually, integrating a more holistic parliament-wide view of digital innovation into the ‘fabric and culture of parliament’ and retaining already realised efficiencies (Williamson 2021).

In the Australian Parliament, management issues, including those raised at every estimates committee hearing, are often trivialised. The efficiency dividend is driving lower spending but is the Australian Parliament able to recover public trust and sustain its future? Recent demographic surveys, contemporary literature and interviews with parliamentary actors would suggest not. The Australian Parliament House is modern and is not facing catastrophic failure, as is the Palace of Westminster, but calls for a more strategic focus on its funding and sustainability appear to have been ignored, along with proposals for more formalised governance arrangements.⁶¹ It is not clear whether perceptions of low morale and bullying in the DPS, particularly among security and Hansard staff, have been resolved following intensive scrutiny by a senate committee (SFPALC 2015b). Calls for an independent Speaker seem unlikely to take hold, despite external support (Menadue 2019). The President of the Senate is still a member of the majority party in that house. The prohibition on dual citizenship in Section 44 of the Australian Constitution—acknowledged as an out-of-date and restrictive concept—has not been resolved despite a recommendation by the Joint Standing Committee on Electoral Matters (2018) to propose a constitutional amendment. Ongoing management of the issue has been left with the parties.⁶² The parliament does not effectively influence its own appropriations. Issues have been left in the too-difficult box (or the ‘too-hard basket’, to use the Australian vernacular), with the potential to become wicked problems. The recommendations of the Jenkins report into parliamentary workplace culture will be implemented only because of the public outrage resulting from the exposure of widespread allegations of bullying, sexual harassment and sexual assault (AHRC 2021).

In both parliaments, members work in an environment that is hazardous to their mental health and wellbeing (Weinberg 2013; Flinders et al. 2018b; Warhurst 2018; Prasser 2019; Baldwin et al. 2020; AHRC 2021). Weinberg (2013) found the prevalence of psychological strain among politicians was well above what could be expected in the working population and questioned whether the jobs of MPs should come with a government health warning. The aforementioned British Medical Journal study (Poulter et al. 2019) found that a higher proportion of members of the House of Commons had poor mental health than among the general population; they were unlikely to discuss mental health issues with their whips and were not aware of parliamentary wellbeing services (see also Baldwin et al. 2020). The potential for discussion of working practices is much less apparent in times of crisis, such as the expenses scandal in the UK Parliament (Weinberg 2013) and, by extension, the misuse of entitlements in the Australian Parliament. MPs inspire little sympathy or support from the public in carrying out their vital democratic role (Marr 2017). This is a problem that should in fact inspire them to ‘develop a long-term culture to deal with long-term problems’ and to acknowledge ‘the perceived failure of the status quo’ (Clarke 2014; Warhurst 2019).

Conclusion: ‘Rules to go by’ in serving the public interest

Procedure and management are not separate functions to be compartmentalised and prioritised. The ability to maintain procedural continuity and stability while simultaneously advocating, negotiating and implementing ongoing reform is a complex requirement for parliamentary effectiveness. It requires the retention of highly skilled procedural advisers. But it also involves a wide interpretation of procedural expertise to include a capacity to predict change and to identify and adopt parliament-wide cultural and behavioural reforms that cross internal boundaries. This discussion has, necessarily, covered a lot of ground. I have defended the need for robust procedural rules and the knowledge and expertise required to maintain, interpret and adapt them—essential components of effective parliamentary administration. I have acknowledged the challenges to and limits of procedural reform in the context of the tensions between government and opposition—a traditional approach for parliamentarians and parliamentary scholars. The principal purpose of the chapter, however, has been to demonstrate the pressing need for parliamentary reform to meet public expectations, address societal norms, better support MPs and their staff and improve policy outcomes (Baldwin et al. 2020). First, to change workplace culture requires significant management intervention, which is amply illustrated by the examination of incidents of bullying and harassment and alleged sexual assault in both parliaments, and a willingness to adopt, and be seen to adopt, behavioural change. Second, the concept of public engagement has become far more complex than merely broadcasting information about parliament and its proceedings to a largely disengaged public. More participatory approaches are required with implications for forms of direct and representative democracy; adequate resourcing of public engagement is likely to require greater internal and external collaboration to harness efficiencies. Third, parliamentary actors cannot avoid tackling difficult problems; they need to look outside the parliamentary box rather than recede within it.

In the next chapter, I relate the dilemmas I have described in the areas of governance, management and procedural/cultural reform to the questions posed in Chapter 1 and discuss the different perspectives on parliamentary management they have revealed. Parliamentary administration/management has never been easy and, as we have seen, it is becoming increasingly complex. I have sought to provide a new perspective on how these challenges might be resolved, or at least ameliorated, in the struggle to enhance parliamentary effectiveness. I suggest that an appreciation by parliamentary actors collectively of their overarching roles as public managers, accompanied by greater knowledge of and respect for public management approaches and skills, both in theory and in practice, could assist, including by increasing parliament’s capacity to influence broader democratic reform.

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