t a recent party political conference I overheard a prominent political journalist bemoan the fact that there were no political magazines in Scotland. I found this surprising for two reasons. For one, I obviously edit one - and secondly, he was speaking at a fringe event that my esteemed organ was sponsoring, had its branding everywhere and had supplied the drink for.
And perhaps that's where the problem lies; when you add alcohol into the heady mix of media and politics, fact and fiction sometimes blur. Look around the bars and restaurants that surround the Scottish Parliament and invariably you will find MSPs and journalists supping from the same trough.
Journalists and politicians make natural but intrinsically wrong bedfellows. Both are obsessed with the world, politics and themselves - and each feed from each other.
In general, they enjoy each other's company because it's a mutually fulfilling relationship based on a symbiotic need to tell tales and boost egos. But ask David McLetchie whether he would go for a drink again with the reporter that exposed the little mistake in his taxi claims and you may find the response surprising.
Holyrood is a bit too cosy and that's why when that relationship splinters, people feel abused and hurt.
When I wrote an interview up with Wendy Alexander that failed to hide my impatience with the fact that she had told me one thing and then done another, I was called a 'bitch' by one of her appartchiks. She on the other hand was told not to read the offending piece in case it hurt her.
Tell me, which one of these sentences do you believe? Trust me, I'm a journalist or
trust me, I'm a politician? The chances are that you will answer in the negative to both and yet the reality is that there are many good politicians and many fine journalists, but they are operating in a world where not only do they have to cosy up but also one where they can't really trust each other.
As a result, life can be confusing for both and problems occur when the relationship gets too close, a line is crossed about impartiality and the tail begins to wag the dog. I can't tell you the number of times MSPs will ask me how I think their party is performing or how I think they should vote on a particular issue or whether I think they did the right thing.
The Scottish Parliament is still a relatively new institution. Ten years isn't such a long time and within that decade we have had a sea-change in terms of governance, we have witnessed a building fraught with scandal about soaring costs, the death of a First Minister, the resignation of another, a whole plethora of changes at the top, particularly in the Labour Party, the odd expenses scandal and then a veritable shift of political power as the SNP was elected to lead a minority Government. Amid all of this shifting sand the political hack pack has had to forge relationships and remain impartial.
The currency of a journalist is the value of his or her sources. Those sources, whether they are politicians, researchers or more often the waitress in the private member's restaurant, have to be fed, watered and nurtured and have to be absolutely reliable. One of the assets and problems of the People's Parliament for journalists is its openness and accessibility. People are too close, relationships too incestuous and people can see who is talking to whom and sidle over to listen in.
Maybe that's why there have been no great stories to come out of Holyrood, nothing to rock the world or bring down a Government. Surely it can't be that Scottish politicians are more honourable than others, or our system whiter than white?
Yes, there have been minor expenses misdemeanours but in the greater scheme of things they could be seen as a muddle rather than a fiddle. If the biggest scandal to come out of Holyrood is the fact that politicians may bend the truth a little, then surely nobody is going to make a headline out of that. Oh, they already have!
So yes, we do have a political magazine in Scotland that reports what goes on rather than expose what does not. I recently interviewed the lovely Alex Fergusson, the Presiding Officer, and was anxious to know whether or not he had liked the resulting article. He 'ummed' and 'ahed' a bit and said he wasn't sure because he hadn't expected me to quote so much of him verbatim.
Although disappointed not to be showered in praise for my reporting skills, I took it as a back handed compliment that if the only complaint from a politician is the amount of accuracy you bring to the table, then perhaps we are getting relations just right.
