The Lord Privy Seal (Baroness Smith of Basildon) (Lab)
My Lords, today I pay tribute to Lord Laming. His lifetime of public service has left an indelible mark on the whole fabric of British social work, public management and the very conscience of our nation. Herbert’s journey into the public sphere began with a deeply practical grounding, dedicating 20 years to Hertfordshire County Council and ultimately serving as director of social services, before rising to become Chief Inspector of the Social Services Inspectorate from 1991 to 1998.
However, it was his subsequent work on the national stage that elevated him into the public consciousness as a fearless seeker of accountability. Following the tragic death of eight year-old Victoria Climbié, the Government turned to Lord Laming to chair the landmark inquiry, in which he diagnosed a yawning gap between policy aspiration and front-line delivery. He famously observed that protecting a child
“needed nothing more than a manager doing their job by asking pertinent questions”.
His work directly laid the foundations for the Every Child Matters framework in the Children Act 2004. Years later, following the tragedy of baby P, he was called on once more to deliver an urgent national review, demonstrating a steadfast commitment to ensuring that the child’s welfare remains paramount.
Since entering this House in 1998, Herbert Laming was a pillar of the Cross Benches. His parliamentary peers recognised his fairness and integrity by electing him Convener of the Cross Benches from 2011 to 2015, followed by a distinguished tenure as Chairman of Committees. He spent decades reminding us that policies are only as good as their front-line execution. He combined a razor-sharp administrative intellect with a deeply compassionate heart. We owe him a debt of gratitude for forcing our country to look closer, to act more quickly and to better protect some of the most innocent and vulnerable in society. His legacy will endure for generations, and we remember him as a man of great generosity, spirit and decency—and as good company. We had many chats in my office, and I will always remember him first and foremost as a great friend. I know he is going to be sorely missed across your Lordships’ House, but weren’t we lucky to have him here with us? We send our deepest and most heartfelt condolences to all his family and friends.
Lord True (Con)
I thank the noble Baroness the Leader for her marvellous tribute. Like her, I convey our sincerest sympathy to Herbert’s family and friends.
I never heard Herbert raise his voice. Perhaps he did if he ever had a recalcitrant dog, but I doubt that, because Herbert would have calmed the dog, as he calmed every situation, however difficult—and there were quite a few in his life. As the Leader said, he has left a legacy that goes far beyond anything that most of us could ever even aspire to. As she said in her notable tribute, he did outstanding service in chairing two of the most harrowing and important inquiries and reports ever undertaken in the United Kingdom, in the Climbié and the baby P cases. In his typically painstaking, ever-listening and ever-giving to others way, his work revolutionised child care. I can only underline everything that the Leader said about those reports and recommendations. They have come to define the best of modern, professional and inter-agency standards.
He was a consummate professional, though he believed, and said so, that career paths could be closed because of too tightly prescribed routes in life. Much of Herbert’s career actually happened by accident, as he acknowledged. He said:
“We are writing off a huge amount of human potential”,
telling young professionals that
“qualifications had got us through the door, but from now on it was what we did that mattered”.
He was a practical man, with an every-open ear and eye. What you did for others was what he saw.
Some of his greatest insights into the need for inter-agency co-operation came from a very varied career. He started work as a probation officer in Nottinghamshire, near Stanton Ironworks, where my parents met—something we used to joke about quite often. In probation, he went on to study mental health, becoming a psychiatric social worker, and that informed his long, magnificent service in Hertfordshire, which the Leader referred to.
I first met Herbert in No. 10, in the early 1990s, when John Major was pushing through a programme of public service reform, which was aimed at placing greater emphasis on the needs of the user, transparency of outcomes and public accountability. Herbert was made Chief Inspector of Social Services in 1991, and he remained so until 1998. He was an enormous ally in all those efforts to improve public services for users. He was always, as I found then, an inspiration to talk to and a breath of fresh air. He was not a softy. He was hard-headed but kindly-hearted, as the Leader said.
Constant learning was something he applied to himself throughout his life:
“We must … never allow ourselves to think that we know everything”,
he said in an interview late in his life. Amen to that. And how much we learned from his great service in this House, not least as the Convenor of the Cross Benches. He was uniquely considerate of others. I must place on record my personal gratitude to him, as the Leader has in her case, for his sound advice in my many roles in this place.
Perhaps I might end by quoting what was said to me earlier by a younger Conservative colleague, more than 40 years Herbert’s junior: “I do not intend to speak”, she wrote, “But I wanted to let you know of Herbert’s kindness. I turned to him privately many times, as he was so generous with his time and his wise words. I will miss him so much”. We could all say the same of this dear man, who was a giant of public service and who will go on touching the lives of people at risk for generations to come. We will all miss him.