Record Copies of Acts

Debate between Michael Ellis and Paul Flynn

Wednesday 20th April 2016 Commons Chamber

[Paul Flynn]

We are talking about the priorities of this Chamber. Those outside will ask what on earth we are talking about, when we could not pay that money to the Women Against State Pension Inequality Campaign pensioners—the 2.7 million of them who have paid into their pensions and are being cheated. There is no money for that, but we save the vellum. What are we doing about the 500,000 overseas pensioners whose pensions are frozen? They paid all their dues. There is no money to give them justice, but there is money for the vellum. I think that people outside will certainly see that, and that we have one law that applies to ourselves—to our own vanities, our own history. It is history; there is no modern justification for using vellum now. This is part of the traditions of this place that should have been dumped along with top hats and quill pens.

Robin Cook tried to do it—it was an obvious saving. Remember the pressure we put on outside bodies to save money and make efficiencies. When we have a very sensible proposal from the House of Lords for an efficiency that will save £100,000, we turn it down because of sentimental, confused thinking, as though we were still living in past ages. It has no relevance for the future whatsoever.

[Michael Ellis]

I think that I have heard the hon. Gentleman refer in the past to the Chartist movement and to other historical aspects of this country. Vellum does not only record positive things. Vellum in society—history—records positive and negative things. If he hates most of the history of this country—perhaps he does not—does he not want to record that history, whatever it says?

[Paul Flynn]

I cherish the history of this country; I cherish the Book of Aneirin, Y Gododdin, presumably written on vellum:

“Gwyr a aeth i Gatreath

Godidog oedd eu gwedd”.

That goes back to the early centuries, before English existed as a language. Of course we treasure the past, and our heritage, but it has nothing to do with this century. We have other ways of maintaining a record. How precious are what we think of as these glorious words we produce, the prose of the laws that we pass. In 13 years of Labour Government, 75 laws were passed by Parliament and went through the whole process but were never implemented fully—never. They are rubbish; they are litter. Another such Bill at the moment, on psychoactive drugs, will do positive harm. I am afraid that we commit this sin. It is said that when there are crises, dogs bark, children cry and politicians legislate. Much of our legislation—the Bill on psychoactive drugs is an example of this—has no right to be preserved in any way. That will be regarded in the future, when the harm the legislation will do is obvious, as a vanity and an extravagance.

There are many outside who feel the austerity implemented mercilessly by that Government over there, who have taken large sums from people’s meagre incomes, with no attempt to make a case for that and no debate on it that makes sense. We have cut and cut again, and those people who are in financial distress will look at this House and laugh, and say, “There they go again: out of touch, looking after themselves and wasting huge sums of money—£100,000 for the parchment, £47 million for Kids Company—and for what?” Those on the Government Benches can say, “Oh yes, we have done that,” but we have 3.7 million children in poverty. We are not talking about them tonight, but we have saved the vellum. Contemptible.