Must a caretaker government be a zombie government?

During the recently concluded Conservative leadership contest, the government appeared to be in a holding pattern, taking little or no action of substance until the election of Boris Johnson’s successor. But did the government, which had a substantial parliamentary majority and an electoral mandate, need to act as if it was merely a ‘caretaker’? Robert Hazell explains that the rules around a ‘lame duck’ PM remain fuzzy, and argues that steps must be taken to clarify the position as soon as possible.

Something very strange happened at Westminster over the summer: a government which enjoyed a comfortable working majority of 71 seats was declared to be a caretaker which could not take any major decisions. It was variously accused of being a ‘zombie government’ ‘asleep at the wheel’, and incapable of taking urgent decisions required by the energy crisis. In its defence the government might have responded that as a caretaker it was precluded from taking such decisions. But the Whitehall rules on this are far from clear. So, what are the Whitehall rules about caretaker governments, and the principles underlying them? And given the confusion this summer, do the rules need clarifying or updating?

‘Caretaker government’ is not a term to be found in any UK government guidance. The Cabinet Manual talks instead about ‘restrictions on government activity’. A leadership election in the governing party is not one of the circumstances when the Cabinet Manual says government activity must be restricted. It envisages just three such circumstances when governments are restricted:

…governments are expected by convention to observe discretion in initiating any new action of a continuing or long-term character in the period immediately preceding an election, immediately afterwards if the result is unclear, and following the loss of a vote of confidence.

Paragraph 2.27.
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Should we codify the royal prerogative?

com.google.Chrome.vxw6lk.jpgThe recent controversy about the unlawful attempt to prorogue parliament and the judicial review that followed has given rise to renewed calls for the codification of the royal prerogative or the enactment of a written constitution. Anne Twomey argues that there are benefits to a looser prerogative power, and that experience in other countries has shown that codification should be undertaken with caution.

The recent controversy about the prorogation of parliament and the judicial review of its exercise in Miller No 2 (also known as Cherry/Miller) has again given rise to calls for the codification of the prerogative or the enactment of a written constitution.

A written constitution is not necessarily an antidote for ambiguity or interpretative discretion. The same issues that arose in Miller No 2 could also arise under a written constitution. For example, section 5 of the Australian Constitution confers upon the Governor-General of Australia the power to prorogue the federal parliament. In doing so, however, it does not delineate the scope of the power to prorogue and whether there are any internal limits on it. The term ‘prorogue’ would have to be interpreted in its historical context, as a prerogative power, and in a manner that is consistent with the principles that are derived from the constitution, including the principles of responsible and representative government

So what would happen if an Australian government requested the Governor-General to prorogue parliament for a significant period, in circumstances where it appeared to have lost confidence and to be seeking to frustrate the ability of parliament to fulfil is legislative and accountability functions? It is likely that Australian courts would face exactly the same issues as the UK Supreme Court did in Miller No 2, regarding justiciability, the scope of the power to prorogue and the application of fundamental constitutional principles. Simply setting out the existing power in legislation or a written constitution does not, of itself, resolve all questions as to its application.

While most prerogative powers have now been abrogated by legislation, there is usually a good reason while those that have survived as prerogative do so. It may be because of the need to exercise them in a quick and decisive fashion. Sometimes, codifying prerogatives in legislation, particularly where prescriptive conditions are included, can exacerbate problems about their use. Disputes are likely to arise about the interpretation of the application of the conditions, courts are likely to become involved in enforcing them, and the delay involved in litigation is likely to exacerbate any political crisis. Continue reading

In defence of the Fixed-term Parliaments Act

The Fixed-term Parliaments Act has come in for a lot of criticism of late, but is it as badly designed and drafted as some commentators would have us believe? The House of Lords Constitution Committee recently commenced an inquiry into the effectiveness of the Act to seek answers to this question. Robert Hazell was one of the first witnesses to give oral evidence to the Committee, and in this blog , written with Nabila Roukhamieh-McKinna, he explains the background to the inquiry, and some of the key issues being addressed.

Background

With perfect timing, the House of Lords Constitution Committee announced on 25 July, the day after Boris Johnson became Prime Minister, that they planned to conduct an inquiry into the Fixed-term Parliaments Act 2011 (FTPA). With even more exquisite timing, the Committee held their first evidence session on 4 September, the day that Johnson tried but failed to persuade the House of Commons to vote for an early general election under section 2(1) of the Act. Robert Hazell gave evidence in that first session on 4 September, supported by Nabila Roukhamieh-McKinna.

The FTPA attracted some controversy when it was passed, and contains a provision for a statutory review after ten years. Section 7 requires the Prime Minister to arrange next year for a committee to carry out a review, with a majority of its members being from the House of Commons. The current inquiry can be seen as the Lords gearing up for the statutory review.

The FTPA has been strongly criticised, and blamed for the deadlock in parliament, where the government remains in office but cannot deliver on its flagship policy. This is largely due to the Act’s stipulation that the support of two-thirds of MPs is required for an early dissolution. Formerly, the Prime Minister could make an issue a matter of confidence, such that its defeat would automatically trigger a general election. Professor Vernon Bogdanor laments this undermining of prime ministerial power, arguing that Theresa May was unable to threaten the Commons with dissolution, unlike Edward Heath in 1972 with the European Communities Bill.

Conversely, Sir Bernard Jenkin MP has accused the drafters of the FTPA of strengthening the Prime Minister. He refers specifically to the ambiguity about the 14-day period after the government loses a vote of no confidence, during which there is no requirement for the Prime Minister to resign. Similarly, Catherine Haddon writes that the Act has ‘done little but to frustrate and confuse,’ given its silence on what should happen during the 14 day period. Such criticisms are not new. In a debate in 2014 Sir Edward Leigh MP argued for its repeal, and Lord Grocott and Lord Desai have both introduced bills providing for such an outcome.

This rush to judgement seems premature, with only limited experience so far of the FTPA. It is also insular. Fixed terms tend to be the norm, in Europe and the Westminster world, and there are lessons to be learned from their experience. Robert Hazell’s written submission to the Lords Constitution Committee summarised the main lessons to be learned from overseas, drawing on the Constitution Unit’s detailed report on Fixed Term Parliaments published in 2010. This blog starts with a summary of the arguments for and against fixed terms, before addressing the main concerns raised about the FTPA. Continue reading

This prorogation is improper: the government should reverse it

meg_russell_2000x2500.jpgalan.jfif (1)professor_hazell_2000x2500_1.jpgBoris Johnson’s prorogation announcement has generated widespread criticism, and will be hotly debated when MPs return today from their summer break. Meg Russell, Alan Renwick and Robert Hazell argue that the decision to suspend parliament for five weeks was an improper use of executive power, sets dangerous precedents, and undermines fundamental principles of our constitution. It should therefore not proceed. MPs may seek to block it, and so may the courts, but the preferable route would be for the government to recognise its mistake and reverse it.

MPs return to Westminster today after the five-week summer recess in deeply unusual and worrying circumstances. Last week Prime Minister Boris Johnson, who has faced just one day of parliamentary scrutiny since taking office on 24 July, triggered a prorogation of parliament, set to last another five weeks. Particularly given the Brexit deadline of 31 October, this has caused widespread consternation: among opposition parties, senior Conservatives (such as former Prime Minister Sir John Major, and Lord Young of Cookham who served for 24 of the last 40 years on the frontbench under a succession of Conservative leaders), plus constitutional experts, and the wider public. MPs must now decide how to respond, and meanwhile the action is being challenged in the courts. In this piece we argue that the prorogation was improper, that it sets dangerous precedents, that it is contrary to our constitutional traditions, and that there is still time for the government to defuse the crisis by reversing it.

The rights and wrongs of prorogation

At one level, parliamentary prorogation is entirely uncontroversial. By routine, a short prorogation usually occurs each year between the end of one parliamentary session and the start of the next – ahead of a new Queen’s speech. In addition, a short prorogation often occurs before parliament is dissolved for a general election, in order to regulate the timing and ensure that election day takes place on a Thursday. The recent practice and procedure of prorogation is set out clearly in an excellent briefing from the House of Commons Library.

Discussion of potentially more sinister uses of prorogation began during the Conservative leadership contest, when Dominic Raab (now Foreign Secretary) refused to rule out proroguing parliament to force through a ‘no deal’ Brexit in the face of opposition by MPs. This was roundly condemned by others in the race at the time: being described by Sajid Javid (now Chancellor of the Exchequer) as ‘trashing democracy’, and Michael Gove (now effective Deputy Prime Minister) as ‘a terrible thing’. Andrea Leadsom (now Secretary of State for Business, Energy and Industrial Strategy) commented that ‘I don’t think prorogation is the right thing to do and I don’t think that a Prime Minister would choose to do that’.

Following Johnson’s prorogation announcement, ministers have instead suggested that this is absolutely standard procedure. On Thursday’s Today programme, the Leader of the House of Commons, Jacob Rees-Mogg, claimed that it was more or less what happened every year, and that it was ‘because of the 3 ½ weeks of conference recess [that] it is five weeks in total’. Hence Rees-Mogg accused critics of the move of expressing ‘confected anger’.

But such suggestions of normality are disingenuous, seeking to exploit public confusion between the different means by which it can be decided that the Commons will not sit. It is important to distinguish between the following three things:

Prorogation brings all parliamentary business to a complete stop. Unless rescued by a government motion, bills that are before parliament fall and must start their passage again. Importantly, the decision to prorogue lies wholly in the hands of the government – through issuing advice to the Queen, which she is duty bound to accept. Usually a prorogation lasts for just a few days. Research by the House of Lords Library shows that a five-week prorogation will be the longest since 1930.  

Parliamentary recess is very different. Recess occurs periodically throughout the year, to accommodate holidays and, usually, a break for the party conferences. However, the decision to adjourn for recess lies with MPs. The motion for the 2019 conference recess had not yet been laid, and the looming Brexit deadline meant that there was increasing pressure from MPs to cancel or cut this recess short. Crucially, it is also possible for some parliamentary business – such as meetings of select committees – to continue during recess, and the progress of bills is not halted.

Dissolution of parliament in contrast occurs before a general election. Under the Fixed-term Parliaments Act, the decision to dissolve parliament again lies with MPs themselves – and is taken by a parliamentary vote. Dissolution does not simply suspend parliament: as the name suggests, it dissolves parliament in preparation for the creation of a new one through a general election.

Hence either recess or dissolution, sometimes combined with a short prorogation, frequently result in parliamentary breaks which last a number of weeks. But in both of these cases MPs take the decision to break themselves. Had ministers genuinely wanted to hold a ‘routine’ prorogation to facilitate a Queen’s speech, as they claim, they could easily have proposed one lasting a few days, and left the decision to MPs regarding whether to take the conference recess. Instead, they have proposed the longest prorogation for 90 years, using executive power to shut down parliament in the midst of a crisis – seemingly to avoid the risk that MPs would veto the conference recess, and perhaps use the time available defeat the government on other things. As suggested in the previous comments of Conservative leadership contenders, that represents an improper use of executive power. Continue reading