OPINION
Speaker Sir Lindsay Hoyle (Image: PA)
Maybe, like me, you thought the Speaker of the House of Commons’ job description was spelled out in the title? That their primary purpose was to preside over procedure, bark “Order!”, quell mutiny and nuke bad manners with the soothing authority of their presence? Readers, I’d suggest that injecting a touch of gravitas by sitting on a large chair in the H of C and raising your eyebrows when humour verges on the unsuitable is all we require from the Speaker. We don’t need or want them to globe-trot business class to the world’s priciest flesh-pots with two or three aides (also in business class), reside in five-star splendour in magnificent hotels or munch so much Chinese chow in Canberra they bill us £300 for a major blow-out at Wild Duck.
Why should the Speaker fly anywhere at all? With we’re all capable of showing up to rendezvous anywhere in the universe without costing anyone a brass farthing. You put on a smart shirt, leave your pyjama bottoms on because no one will glimpse you below the waist, walk from your bedroom to the living room and “give great meeting”. You don’t need limos, executive airport lounges, room service or a tip for the pool attendant.
The cost to the taxpayer is nil and your carbon footprint is zero. Sir has lavished £250,000 since 2022 on what my Grandma Babs would call “gallivanting”.
At your expense he has spent £15,800 flitting to the Cayman Islands, £33,400 nipping Down Under and £1,160 popping to Verona – which costs a mere £30-40 on budget airlines.
Why is Sir L circumnavigating the planet? He attends the graduation ceremony at the University of , of which he is chancellor, a conference for “Speakers and Presiding Officers from Commonwealth countries” and a clutch of other engagements which seem to be topped, tailed and sometimes middled with reviving holidays in delightful spas.
I’d like to put Long Haul Lindsay’s trips to a vote. Are you (a) happy to pay for Sir L to sip cocktails on far-flung beaches (cost £250k) or (b) would you like him to hop on Zoom and stay at home (cost £0). Let’s have our say.
It’s our money and, last time we checked, this was a democracy.