Hard times for a constituent on the edge
Last week I was buttonholed by a constituent. This person, who for obvious reasons must remain nameless, is in trouble. He is on a low working wage – and on the working tax credit front he is being “done over” good and proper.
“They are going into everything, bank statements, bills, the lot, and I’m worried sick. Can you help me, Jamie?”
Now, as readers know, there once was a time.
But these days, as a councillor, my powers are very considerably limited, compared to what they once were when I was still an MSP.
However, in more recent times there was, if she doesn’t mind me calling her this, a remaining knight in shining white armour, who could, and did, help me out with this sort of stuff.
Known to many in Caithness and Sutherland from her past work and advice, she is called Maggie Harrison, and for many years she has worked in Westminster.
“Maggie – it’s about benefits. I’ve got the details of the problem here – can I email them to you?”
“Yes, go ahead. Leave it with me.”
And the thing was that you could leave it with her. Because after she got the email, Maggie would get in touch with the constituent, listen to the problem, and then go about solving it. I could sleep easy when I knew Maggie was on the case.
Some years ago I was involved with building the new Scottish Parliament, the Holyrood Project. Part and parcel of the job was access to civil servants in a way normally denied to backbenchers, and like every job and walk of life, when work was over builders-cum-MSPs and civil servants would sometimes go for a drink.
“Before you were with the Holyrood Project, didn’t you work for one of Tony Blair’s ministers?” I once asked a civil servant over a glass of cabernet sauvignon. “And did this involve you getting letters from MPs about their constituents’ problems?”
“Oh yes. Steady work. My in-tray was always full.”
“Did you get many letters from my MP up north, Robert Maclennan?” I asked, rather cheekily.
“From the dreaded Maggie? Oh my God, she was tenacious! If she didn’t get the answer she wanted, then she was on the phone right away demanding to speak to the minister. Oh my God.”
After that we went for drinks less frequently. But Maggie carried on doing the job. Until a couple of months ago that is.
After decades in the House of Commons, tens of years helping people, Maggie decided to have an easier life and to only work for Bob Maclennan (who is now Lord Maclennan) in the House of Lords. Suddenly my access to Maggie’s kind help, via the House of Commons, ceased – and this takes me straight to the gentleman with the working tax credit problem last week.
“So can you help me, Jamie? I’m pretty desperate.”
“Uh, leave it with me. I’ll go away and have a think. I’ll come back to you I promise.”
So for a day or two I looked at the blank piece of wall above my computer and thought.
A letter from a councillor to HM Revenue and Customs (HMRC) would more than likely be ignored, or receive a reply that said that matters of tax were way above my pay grade. So that wouldn’t help the gentleman concerned. Probably worse than useless in fact.
Could I email Maggie in the Lords asking whether she could get Bob Maclennan to sign an appropriate letter to HMRC? But then do lords get involved in constituency matters, in things that should really be dealt with by MPs or MSPs? On reflection I thought not.
So in the end I did the only thing that I could think of doing. I sent an email to the man who took over from me as MSP for the Far North, Rob Gibson.
In the email I gave him an outline of the problem and the constituent’s contact details. In addition I said that while I understood that tax issues were not (at least at this time) matters for MSPs, I would nevertheless be grateful if he could pass on the problem to our new Westminster MP for the Far North, Paul Monaghan, and ask him to get in touch with the constituent. That was on Friday of last week.
At the time of penning this column I have not received an acknowledgement for my email, either from Edinburgh or London. However, I do hope that I have got something back by the time you read this paper.
All the same, as you can well imagine, I do miss Maggie a lot, and these nights I am not sleeping quite as comfortably as I used to.
At the end of the day my constituent’s problem is eating him down. It remains unsolved. And, dash it, it’s worse than any sleep loss for me, it’s bloody worrying.
