The former head of the British army Richard Dannatt and David Evans, or Lord Evans of Watford, a so-called high-level facilitator, have been found to have broken the House of Lords rules and are facing hefty suspensions as a result.
The punishments follow official inquiries into their conduct, after undercover investigations by the Guardian revealed how the two peers separately offered to make introductions to ministers for a potential commercial client. A parliamentary watchdog ruled that the conduct was lobbying for personal profit, behaviour that breaks the fundamental principle that peers should always act solely for the public good.
Lord Dannatt bragged to the undercover reporters that he would “make a point of getting to know” the best-placed minister, and make the relevant introduction, while Evans said how it was “great being a Labour peer at the moment because we’ve got our mates who now have senior jobs”. Both thought they were speaking to property developers offering a potentially lucrative deal.
The Guardian later revealed how Dannatt had previously lobbied for several paying clients in actions described by the conduct committee as “improper interactions”. Dannatt said: “I deeply regret the commissioner’s findings regarding my personal honour.”
He added: “I also understand that acting in the national interest in good faith, which was my motivation … is not an excuse or justification for breaching the code of conduct.”
Both men are steeped in the culture of the Lords; Dannatt has been a member since 2011, and Evans since 1998. It might be difficult to see how they could plead ignorance for their breaches.
And the two peers have broken both the letter and the spirit of the rules. They were found to have failed to act on their “personal honour”, a nebulous term that is meant to reflect “the sense and culture” of the House of Lords. Both insisted they had not broken the rules.
It is notable that in their conversations with the undercover reporters, neither man ever referenced “lobbying”, which peers are strictly banned from doing for a commercial interest. Instead, they had a series of euphemisms. Dannatt would “generate an introduction”, “facilitate a conversation”, and spoke of “putting you forward”. Evans was “very, very happy to support you”, and to “give you the opportunity” to make points.
But the House of Lords is a second chamber designed for second jobs. And both men have had portfolio careers with second, third, and fourth jobs since they became peers. They are not outliers: the former chancellor Philip Hammond has a “diverse portfolio” of 30 roles.
At issue is that the rules and culture provide easy opportunities for some peers to use their privileged positions for private gain. Is it any wonder that Evans and Dannatt insisted their conduct was appropriate – or at least not brazenly in breach – when the Guardian’s wider Lords debate project found one in 10 peers were paid for political advice.
The official position of the House of Lords is that peers are not paid a salary (but can claim a generous, tax-free daily allowance of £371 for showing up, plus their travel expenses), and so must be able to supplant their income with outside roles. These outside roles then allow peers to bring in expertise from industry, academia, the arts, the legal profession, to better improve the quality of debate and scrutiny of the government.
But the reality is that the majority of legislative legwork is done by a minority of peers: 10% of peers made more than half of the contributions to debates in the 2019-24 parliament. The number of peers has steadily grown since the cull of hereditary peers in 1999. The main check on two and a half decades of political patronage, with prime ministers and party leaders making appointments not for lawmaking prowess but as a reward and a retirement home, has been the grim reaper.
The lack of participation requirements has meant peers can get the title, and use it to profit, by taking outside roles based on insider knowledge and access. There is no check on their contributions, or lack of; no democratic accountability to boot them out for poor performance. In the chamber, Lord Evans has spoken twice, briefly, since 2019. Before that was a stony silence kept since 2000.
The Lords has slowly tightened the rules in response to public outcry at earlier stings and newspaper revelations of lobbying scandals. But the chamber remains fundamentally unreformed.
In opposition, Keir Starmer promised to abolish the “indefensible” House of Lords. Then it became a pledge to reform. The only proposal to be debated as draft legislation is to evict the remaining hereditary peers, set to go through later this year.
The other changes – a retirement age of 80, participation requirements, stronger powers to boot out disgraced peers, overhauling the appointments process and making the chamber more representative – have all gone into the long grass of a select committee to consider in the future.
The House of Lords has not been the only subject of newspaper stings and lobbying scandals. Down the corridor, across the Tudor Rose at the heart of parliament’s central lobby, MPs have cracked down on second jobs in an attempt to improve much damaged public confidence. These restrictions have not been expanded to the Lords. Until they are, it seems unlikely that “personal honour” alone will stop peers from repeating the mistakes of Dannatt and Evans.
