David Cooper was until last week a member of the executive of the South Staffordshire Conservative association (when his three years as a branch chairman came to an end). He writes entirely in a personal capacity.
Anyone familiar with The Apprentice will recall the stage when every last syllable of the contestants’ CVs comes under the most painstaking scrutiny from Sir Alan’s henchmen. The sheer horror felt by many an aspiring candidate when their carefully crafted life stories are found to have been embellished, exaggerated or (perish the thought) fabricated only adds to the viewers’ delight.
How might the interview round from The Apprentice be compared with the process of selecting a Conservative PPC for a notionally safe seat? The officious bystander might think that the candidates undergo a similar process at the hands of the local associations, who will in all probability be recruiting on a “once in a generation” basis, and bestowing the gift of 20 years or more in Parliament.
And yet although that same bystander might think that the associations ought to have a similar relationship with CCHQ as a company interviewing panel has with its headhunters – you recommend, but we choose – reality suggests the associations have so little real power in practice that they might as well simply be told to find out which shortlisted candidate can best imitate a reverse pterodactyl.
On 1st December 2009, Sir Patrick Cormack unexpectedly announced his retirement. The South Staffordshire constituency officers promptly called an executive meeting for 10 December, when an area representative of the party attended to explain PPC selection procedure. The executive met again on the 18th and chose a six member selection sub-committee to undertake a preliminary sift of the applicants’ CVs and pick their own six-strong shortlist to put to CCHQ. In the meantime, approved candidates had to apply by the 14th.
Might Christmas have been thought ideal for the locals to study the applications in detail? Wrong. The CVs evidently only reached the sub-committee on 2nd January. Not much time for their own exercise prior to the London summons on the 14th to meet Eric Pickles and John Maples. The applicant whom the sub-committee favoured for shortlisting in particular – Nigel Hastilow - was not to the liking of the hierarchy but that is a side issue here.
The association executive were informed - via circular email from the constituency office - of the chosen candidates on 15th January, just the six names, and reminded of a meeting on 21st January when all six candidates would address the executive and answer ten unseen questions in turn. I stress that again: just the six names. Three men, three women, none of them household names to local Conservatives, all with little or no recognition factor to anyone other than dedicated followers of stories about candidate selection nationwide. One executive member asked whether the executive would be sent copies of the candidates’ CVs prior to the meeting, and if not, why not. His email was not answered and the CVs were not provided.
For my own part as a South Staffs executive member (and ConHome regular) not minded to sit and wait, I did my own research via Google search of all six names combined with “conservative”, an ironic echo of how the so-called Turnip Taliban of South West Norfolk were told they could have dug up their PPC’s affair with a sitting MP, and her Lib Dem and anti-monarchist past (repudiated). A trawl of ConHome showed that three of the six had made it to at least three final shortlists elsewhere, indeed that one was still up for another current safe seat vacancy. A deeper search including the words “labour” and “liberal democrat” (can’t be too careful!) fortunately unearthed no unwelcome shocks. I shared this research with the email recipients prior to the meeting while all concerned waited in vain for further official information.
On the 21st, with a 6.30pm start time and a long session ahead, executive members were handed copies of the two page application forms upon arrival. The officers were asked why the forms were not made available to the executive members in advance. The answer, to which I return below: “data protection”. It was hinted that the applications could have been read at the constituency office over the previous few days, but no one had taken the trouble to announce this in advance. Consistent with this reasoning, it was stated that all of the copy applications would have to be collected in at the end of the meeting. Left with a speed reading task, and no chance to quiz the officers about the evident lack of local candidates, the executive members braced themselves for three hours of personal presentations and answers to the preset questions. The meeting ran its course, the chairman sought and obtained approval for all six to go before the full membership in eight days’ time, and steps were taken to collect in the copy applications.
For any mere South Staffs member unable to speak to an executive member in the meantime, the final selection meeting on 29th January was the first and only real opportunity to find out anything about the last six. Their names were mentioned in the local Express & Star newspaper on the night before, and could of course have been found out via ConHome. But with no detailed written communication to members beforehand, anyone having not read the Express & Star or ConHome would only have learned the candidates’ names and credentials at the selection meeting. Again the copy application forms were handed out on the basis of collection at the end.
Presentations; unseen questions; a half time break; and five ballots. Almost five hours later, a winner. Clearly he was, by definition, the most worthy of the six on the night in the eyes of the majority, but if anyone leaving the meeting had been asked to give a quick summary of the new PPC and his key credentials, they would have floundered upon anything but the most basic detail.
Which brings me back to the issue of communication from CCHQ to membership, via selection sub-committee and executive, about their PPC candidates. Or lack of it, if you wish.
The practical effect of using the mantra “data protection” to ward off a query from the average layman, it must be conceded, will be tantamount to showing a crucifix to a vampire. Especially when few would know how to challenge the mantra, leaving aside the lack of any realistic chance that the vampire could harness the power of the crucifix to summon the secrecy horse back to the unlocked stable and then use it to wedge the door shut with the rogue equine safely inside.
Enough metaphors. Two practical points instead. The first, the Data Protection Act’s underlying legal principle of “fair processing”. In summary, the duty to outline what and how information is going to be processed, so that the individual knows what is going to happen to their information and how it is going to be used. The individual in question, of course, is an aspiring PPC. Surely, then, little chance of objection on their part to their application form being presented to potential voter-members in time for detailed study? Let’s face it – every candidate would believe that their CV was head and shoulders above the rest, and would be eager for it to be carefully studied, not speed read with a risk of vital content being overlooked or misunderstood.
The second: what were applicants told? From the constituency application form itself:
“Data Protection Act 1988. The information you have give in this form will be stored by the Party. The Party may make all or part of this information available to its employees, volunteers and Constituency Associations, involved in candidate selection. Parts of this information may be used in the candidate selection procedure. By signing below, you acknowledge that you give your express consent to the Party processing, holding and disclosing the information that you have supplied in accordance with the processing activities described above.”
Well, that’s pretty wide. No scope, I suggest, for a candidate to complain about early distribution of application forms to constituency executive members in good time for a selection meeting. As if such a thought would ever cross a candidate’s mind. Leading to the almost inevitable conclusion that withholding the application forms until the very last minute, and collecting them in at the end of each meeting, owed less to the principle of data protection than it did to the principles of control freakery and mushroom government.
For the record, in reproducing the consent formula, I claim to possess neither a photographic memory nor a talent for speed transcription. I simply read another relevant application form – that of my wife, a GP resident in the constituency, one of many to answer David Cameron’s call for ordinary people to come forward and seek approval as Conservative PPCs following the expenses scandal. The fact that she passed the Parliamentary Assessment Board with specific approval to apply for the seat, on the strength of undeniable local credentials, was evidently insufficient to avoid a clean sweep for the political class here.
Sour grapes on my part, or a further tale of CCHQ treating the local voluntary side of the party as a tiresome nuisance and nothing but an obstacle to the placement of chosen ones in safe seats? You decide. I’ll just stick to my view that if local association members (executive or ordinary) can be expected to continue contributing simply because of their inherent support for the cause, they deserve respectful treatment when it comes to the selection of who should be the direct personal beneficiary of their time and resources. And, arguably, did not get it on this occasion.
