Parliamentary motions

Politics Notebook #23: I’m low-key obsessed with Douglas Ross’s wild career choices.

Image via the Scottish Parliament.

Douglas Ross is a messy bitch who lives for the drama.

He’s quitting Holyrood — again.

To stand for Westminster — again.

Oh please, please let him win a seat somewhere because, much as I’ve spent the past few years being disobliging to him in print, I’m low-key obsessed with his wild career choices.

He is, for those who reside b’chutz la-aretz skotland, the former leader of the Scottish Conservative Party.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. First he was a dairy farmer — good, honest work. Then he decided to become a local councillor and, in 2007, was elected to the Moray Council for the ward of Fochabers-Lhanbryde, which if you say it three times will summon Gandalf from Eriador.

Then, in 2016, he was elected to the Scottish Parliament on the Highlands and Islands list, but the following year he stood for the UK Parliament, won a seat, and quit Holyrood.

Once upon a time, it was common for MPs to have second careers, particularly as barristers or writers, but these days it’s frowned upon, and so when Ross took up his seat in the House of Commons it was generally assumed that he’d drop his side hustle as an assistant football referee.

Nope. He announced he’d continue to run the line or blow the whistle or whatever exactly it is that football referees do. Now, this was obviously A Terrible Idea because, my dude, you’re already a Tory in Scotland, and you want to chuck referee into the mix? Why not go all in and get some shifts as a debt collector?

Then again, what business is it of anyone else if the guy wants to referee in his spare time? It’s not like he was missing parliamentary duties.

He was missing parliamentary duties.

But only once. Or twice. Well, technically three times.

Four if you count the time he missed a VJ Day commemoration. Yes, I know that sounds bad, but it was the 75th anniversary. They’d already commemorated it 74 other times! And, I mean, vanquishing Imperial Japan was cool and all but St Johnstone beating Kilmarnock 2-1? That’s what I call historic.

He put all that behind him, though, and was promoted to the ministry by Boris Johnson, a role he lasted in for almost six months. He quit in May 2020 after it was revealed that Dominic Cummings had taken a trip to Barnard Castle during lockdown.

I can’t fully remember why but it was agreed upon by everyone at the time that the only appropriate response to the Prime Minister’s adviser travelling during quarantine was for the Parliamentary Under-Secretary of State for Scotland to tender his resignation.

A few months later, Ross took over as leader of the Scottish Conservatives. He didn’t want to but he was talked into it because, truth be told, there was no one else available. Politics is a hideous business, brimming with ambition and self-interest, and so there’s something almost endearing about a politician who agrees to become leader of his party just to be helpful.

Of course, this meant he had to return to Holyrood as an MSP, but he wanted to remain an MP at Westminster too, while leading a political party, and working part-time as a referee. That’s how bad the economy was under the last government: even Tory politicians needed four jobs just to make ends meet.

So he sauntered on for a bit, managing not to pick up any further gigs, until the Partygate scandal broke. (tl;dr: Prime Minister put nation in Covid lockdown, broke lockdown himself, birthday cake was involved, it was a whole thing.) Ross called for the Prime Minister to resign, was viciously attacked by the PM’s allies and grassroots fans, then changed his mind and called for the PM to remain in office because, and I swear I’m not making this up, Russia invaded Ukraine. Three months later, with Russian tanks still very much on Ukrainian territory, he switched again and voted no-confidence in the PM’s leadership.

See what I mean by ‘messy’? There are entire seasons of RuPaul’s Drag Race less hectic than this man.

Oh, but we’re not done yet. Because in October 2021, he ups and announces that he won’t be standing as an MP at the next election. No, not a chance. No way. Totally ruled it out. So, of course, you know what happened next. Three years later, and with just four weeks to go until polling day, Ross decides that, actually, he’s going to stand.

Admittedly, this is where the energy gets less endearingly madcap and takes on more of an ick factor. An incumbent MP is deselected as a candidate while he’s seriously ill in hospital and his seat given to Ross. But the candidate recovers, kicks up a stink, local party members turn on Ross, and he agrees to quit as Scottish Conservative leader and focus on Westminster after the election.

What happens? He goes and loses the seat.

This lad’s LinkedIn has more twists than Game of Thrones.

Not only has he lost his Westminster seat, he’s already quit as Holyrood leader, no takesies backsies. So now he’s down to just two jobs, a misfortune for most people but, when you’re Douglas Ross, a statistically significant event in the national unemployment figures.

Following his announcement that he’s standing down from Holyrood next year to focus on re-election to Westminster, his many opponents will be glad to see the back of him. Which only goes to prove that his many opponents are dumb as fenceposts. When politicians who disagree with you are this wired to the moon, you don’t hope they leave politics, you beg them to stay.

And when I say many opponents, I mean many. The combination of Tory and referee attracted a great deal of… I guess you could call it criticism. At one football match he refereed, the Green Brigade, a faction of left-republican Celtic ultras, unfurled a banner that read: ‘VAR decision: Douglas Ross is a cunt.’ At another fixture, supporters of Falkirk FC chanted: ‘You’re just a fat Tory bastard.’ These viewpoints were expressed off the pitch, too. During a live interview with Channel Four News, Ross was standing in the street, speaking down the camera, when a passing motorist honked his horn and shouted that he was a ‘fucking wanker’. As I pointed out to him at the time: ‘The guy spotted you from a moving van. That’s name recognition.’

As much as I’ve been snarky about his political performance over the years, I can’t count myself among the haters. How do you hate a married, heterosexual father of two who drops Atomic Kitten lyrics into his answers during an election interview? How do you hate a man who was once interrupted by a chicken during a parliamentary appearance via Zoom? How do you hate a man who once left a message on my voicemail singing the theme song to Nineties animated banger, Captain Planet and the Planeteers?

No way. Earning a crust as a political journalist is hard enough. Take away Douglas Ross and I’ll be forced to start an OnlyFans, and no one wants to see that. So I hope he does get back into Westminster, is promoted to the shadow Cabinet, accidentally stumbles into the job of Opposition Leader, eventually secures the numbers for a motion of no confidence in the government, then misses the crucial vote because it clashes with his mates’ five-a-side match.

It would be a fitting end to a fitful career.