TWO stories triggered my rage meter last week. It did not quite reach incandescent or catatonic, but it simmered away like a watched pot.
The stories were otherwise unconnected, but for those who like to hunt down an underlying provocation then it is how power rides roughshod over ordinary people.
The first was the astonishingly clunky consultation document that the UK Government published under the auspices of the Office of the Traffic Commissioners (OTC) titled “Guidelines for taking passengers to sporting events in Scotland”.
The consultation was led by the senior traffic commissioner, Richard Turfitt, who is normally based in the East of England, and has no proven expertise in Scottish football. That aside, Turfitt claimed his guidelines are supposedly “proportionate and appropriate to introduce for games within Scotland”.
I will leave you to argue in your mind why the UK Government was proposing these local changes in Scotland and jump to the more salient point about the numerous ways that society seeks to police football.
It was quickly clear that a majority of fan groups were opposed to the first principles of the document, which was brought to my attention by Derek Watson, a director of the Well Society, the majority shareholders of Motherwell FC – one of Scotland’s fan-owned football clubs.
One of the most bizarre proposals was that football buses or, to use the lingo, “SPV coaches”, should only stop at licensed premises that offer a “substantial meal”. First Minister Humza Yousaf has dismissed the whole premise of a substantial meal as “ludicrous”.
This hilarious meddling never gets round to defining substantial – two bags of crisps, macaroni and cheese or lamb shank navarin with sautéed potatoes?
Whatever the good intentions, it was grotesquely out of step with fans travelling to away games and the realities of supporting clubs across Scotland.
The backlash was immediate and unanimous.
A joint statement issued on behalf of the Scottish FA, Scottish Professional Football League, and Scottish Women’s Premier League said: “There’s no evidence that this is a significant problem in Scottish football. We are concerned by the targeted nature of these proposals, which serve to demonise football fans and interfere unnecessarily in people’s lives.”
Oddly, the proposed consultation document hinted at a creeping Unionism too, suggesting among its body text that the process seeks to achieve common standards across the UK.
Ironically, this seemingly simple idea shaped by a traffic commissioner presumably with honest intentions touched a raw nerve – Scotland’s right to treated as an independent footballing nation.
The main governing body in Scottish football, the SFA, is instinctively suspicious of anything that compromises Scotland’s distinct identity and resists anything that might lead inadvertently to the idea of a pan-UK football team or a merged association.
The SFA might be institutionally conservative, but it defends its independence with vigour.
Criticism of the consultation came thick and fast from clubs across Scotland and from numerous supporters’ forums too. There is a deep-seated resentment that football always seems to be singled out for unfair criticism.
This all comes at a time when Scottish football supporters have admirable leadership in place. Fan-owned clubs are growing in number, supporters are increasingly elected to club boards, a bus convener culture has been in place in Scotland for decades, and a robust network connects supporter liaison officers across Scotland.
Although it may not appeal to some, the ultra movement in Scotland is also extraordinarily well-organised.
Some only see the match-day displays, but behind the scenes, fans from the ultra movement negotiate with clubs and with the police to assemble tifos and matchday flags.
This cack-handed consultation also came at entirely the wrong time for another reason. Many in Scottish football have only just moved on from the OBFA – Offensive Behaviour at Football Act, a failed piece of legislation within the Scottish Parliament, which bravely tried to weed out sectarianism in Scottish football. It was a noble ambition but poorly conceived and left glaring contradictions in its drafting.
The first and most obvious question is: why football?
Do other large events, sporting or otherwise, not attract offensive behaviour? And is rowdiness on public transport uniquely the fault of football fans?
What consultations are out there for buses when they are hired to transport people to the OVO Arena to see major pop stars or to the SEC to watch Still Game Live – are they required to have a “substantial meal” before they can drink?
And what expectations are to be placed on licensed premises, many facing crippling economic problems? Do they turn away thirsty busloads or try to rustle up ballotine of turkey with potato rösti in the microwave?
Another clause in the consultation document stipulated that buses should arrive at a stadium one hour before kick-off and avoid arriving as early as two hours before kick-off.
Yet another odd implication was that the consultation referred to away fixtures, but many Scottish clubs and their supporters organise buses to go to home games too.
Huge swathes of Celtic and Rangers fans travel by coach to home games, and some clubs with rural support like Aberdeen and St Johnstone organise coaches with multiple stops to bring fans to their home stadium.
From the reaction in the first few days of the paper, it was safe to say it was already dead in the water and recognising this fact on Friday afternoon, the senior commissioner ceased the consultation.
Having enjoyed a substantial meal, a settling repast and a minor victory for Scottish football fans, my rage meter has calmed somewhat. But another story last week triggered a different outrage.
It was the news that the file is closed on Prince Andrew’s decade-long role as the UK’s Special Representative for International Trade and Investment – a position he held from 2001 until scandal, sleaze and a car-crash interview with Emily Maitlis led to his virtual departure from public life.
Many questions remain unanswered about Andrew’s role as trade envoy, a public appointment paid for by the taxpayer, but accessing information is virtually impossible and the files will now be locked up until 2065.
Senior members of the royal family enjoy immunity from prying eyes and are exempt from public information requests. Other lesser members of the immediate family, including Andrew, have a slightly smaller period of protection and their files “must remain sealed until 105 years after the individual’s birth”.
What we will never know in our lifetime is who Andrew met, under what circumstances and what – if any – beneficial deals were struck. We will never know either the age or the gender of those he met.
More saliently, for those of roguish and republican sensibility, we will never know what private arrangements he came to during his endeavours. Did he declare all transactions, were some left underreported, and did any involve either personal enrichment or the now notorious New York sex ring involving Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell?
Perhaps the most important question which may never be answered is the question of oversight. Who, if anyone, did the Royal Trade Envoy report to?
Was it purveyors of due diligence like Priti Patel in her role as secretary of state for international development from 2016 to 2017 or Boris Johnson, the foreign secretary from 2016 to 2018?
Was it a compliant civil servant who nodded through both the strategy and its delivery or was it managed by the faceless and unelected mandarins of Buckingham Palace?
None of those fill you with confidence that Andrew was managed or held to account. It is just another glaring flaw in Britain’s unwritten constitution and yet more evidence of its tattered credibility.
