At least our esteemed lower house of parliament has some checks and balances. Recalling my history lessons, one cannot sit in the House of Commons if (and I quote) one is a “convicted criminal”, a “lunatic”, or (best of all) a member of the House of Lords. If the great British electorate chooses an MP that errs on the side of the first two attributes, may the buyer beware!

My father always stated that he had inherited the title ‘mister’ from my grandfather, and in the same spirit he declared our family ‘went back to Adam and Eve’. Members of the (elected) House of Commons may possess given titles, including ‘Sir’ or ‘Dame’ and, separate from the honours system, they may have existing academic, medical, or military pre-nominal titles they seldom use. Post-nominals are also given out as part of the honours system. To get a CBE all you need to do, it seems, is to help to create a living hell for scores of law-abiding sub-postmasters. Pre-nominals are surely posher, and what of the Lords, we may ask?

A special word

The Cambridge Dictionary gives this definition “A person who is titled has a special word, such as Sir or Lady, before their own name, showing that they have a high social rank: (as in) one of his titled friends”.

Now let’s unpack this statement. Literally, a Lord or Lady is a person of high social standing. Although elevated socially, David Cameron was Mr Cameron until recently, only latterly becoming Lord Cameron so he can serve as foreign secretary in our democracy. At least he was once elected and, love him or otherwise, he surely did something for – or to – his country (answers on a postcard).

Cameron was once nicknamed ‘Lord Snooty’ after the character in that pro-working-class publication, The Beano. This followed his original elevation within the Conservative Party. It also represented the post-Thatcher / Major purge of the petit bourgeois leadership they had provided and had been typified by the patronage of ‘Essex Man’. The toffs were back in charge with Cameron, but what was to follow was even worse!

Ex-prime ministers normally get something posh. Lady Thatcher (who entered the Lords) and Sir John Major (having sat in the Commons) were two recipients, while Boris Johnson eagerly awaits his gong. Curiously, Major went to one of the same schools as me, I am proud to say. This places him (and me) some way down the social pecking order when compared to Johnson, who recovered the respect for patrician leadership as evidenced by attendance at a certain top public school. Does this explain Major being a mere Sir John? But we should remember that both Thatcher and Major, when compared with Cameron, came from ‘trade’. Oh my dear!

The appeal of titles is in part that they create an impression of authority, in part that they look like something to aspire to. Earned titles (academic, medical, military, or ecclesiastical) are at least based on merit, unlike inherited titles. While few would get exercised about someone claiming to be Baron von Penge or the like, it must be remembered that there are still something like 90 hereditary peers in the House of Lords, of which most were elected … by other hereditary peers. If one believes that a second (upper) chamber contains people appointed through experience and service (a partially defensible position), some remain by dint of birth. Paula Vennells of Post Office fame, has voluntarily handed back her CBE, saving the trouble of revoking it.

Titles have their uses

In the interests of full disclosure, I too possess a pre-nominal title. Rummaging through my wallet I find it has crept on to two documents. My National Trust membership card is largely an entrée to the caring classes, but can I explain it on my driving licence? I feel a fantasy interaction coming on:

Scenario: I am pulled over for driving too fast on the motorway:

Me (grovelling): “Sorry officer, was I driving too fast?”

Police officer: “In a hurry are we Sir? May I see your licence?”

The officer takes my licence and examines it.

PO: “I see, Dr Cook, are you in a hurry to get to work at the hospital?”

Me: “Yes, it is very urgent. I have a patient who identifies as Napoleon Bonaparte and, who being recently ennobled, seeks a medical opinion regarding their suitability to sit in the House of Lords. And I think this person has a good chance of taking the seat. I cannot give any further details, due to medical confidentiality, you will understand.”

The police officer looks doubtful but steps away from the car and salutes.

PO: “Off you go then, doctor, but take it easy on the road.”

I thank him and drive off along the M5 at a typical average motorway speed of 25mph.

In context

OK this is nonsense. I, for the record, am not medical. In any case I believe that academic titles should only be used in context; that is unless one is trying to avoid being charged with something. We have learned that MPs are not exempt from being pulled over by the police.

We have established that there are three kinds of title. Those inherited (e.g., Baron von Penge), those earned in the big wide world due to qualification or indicating position (e.g., Lord Snooty), and those of very arbitrary nature bequeathed by someone in power. Is this last kind the most worrying? I try not to think about Sir Jacob Rees-Mogg, who was rewarded with a knighthood after merely trying to shut down the elected House of Commons.

So, that most radical of publications, the Financial Times, chose to ask about the honours list of the 49-day PM Liz Truss. This is 40 days in office longer than the hapless 17-year-old Lady Jane Gray, who occupied the throne for a short time in 1553.

Once Truss was in charge, her economic policies almost junked an already rickety post-Brexit UK economy. Nobody being all bad, she did strike a deal that improved trading in pork (and cheese) with China. I will never be able to look a chow mein in the face again without remembering Truss. The FT article cited commented on the nomination for peerages of Brexiters Matthew Elliott and Jon Moynihan (Truss had backed remain in 2016), and also Ruth Porter, managing director of FGS Global and former Deputy Chief of Staff in No 10. Can they really have been appointed on merit?

One can be excused for believing this makes the honours system, as administered by politicians, look both arbitrary and crony-bound. But should being associated with serious economic and political failure, or naked injustice, be a barrier to advancement in the British honours system?

Partisan appointments of blatant failures?

There are currently some 800 people entitled to sit in the House of Lords. Even if one defends the appointment of men and women from many walks of life and from across the political spectrum, those with no political axe to grind and bishops, can we face partisan appointments of blatant failures from a short-lived administration? It is unclear where the Westminster system ends, and Ruritania begins.

There is no sign of former PM Truss gaining a peerage, but she is still in there. Maybe horrors such as Truss’s honours list, or the Post Office ex-CEO, will become en masse a ‘wedge issue’ showing the way to a new political revolution? Then there is a lack of a written constitution, an upper chamber whose only electoral process involves aristocrats electing other aristocrats, yes and even the alienation of so many from the political process – especially the young – that should usher in a new dawn.

It could take time, but pro-democracy campaigners should take heart. The system is broken, so watch this space!

(Citizen) Hadrian Cook

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