Kenny Farquharson: All the commission's men must be heard

This looks like an old-fashioned stitch-up – politics as it used to be

LIKE many who work in the newspaper trade, my favourite film is All The President's Men, the story of Watergate. My favourite bit is when legendary Washington Post editor Ben Bradlee, played by Jason Robards, gives investigative reporters Woodward and Bernstein a pep talk: "You guys are probably pretty tired, right? Well, you should be. Go on home, get a nice hot bath. Rest up... 15 minutes. Then get your asses back in gear. We're under a lot of pressure, you know, and you put us there. Nothing's riding on this except the first amendment to the Constitution, freedom of the press, and maybe the future of the country."

Bradlee now lives in some comfort in Jackie Kennedy's old family estate in the Hamptons. But if I could coax him out of retirement and persuade him to come to Scotland, I would love to put him in a room with the 15 members of the Calman Commission. To refresh your memory, this is the working group set up by Labour, the Tories and the Lib Dems to decide what new powers should be given to the Scottish Parliament.

I'd ask Bradlee to give them the following talking-to: "You guys are probably pretty tired, right? Well, don't let me catch you slacking. Get your asses in gear. The Union's under a lot of pressure, you know, and you put it there. Nothing's riding on this except the credibility of the Scottish Parliament, the future prosperity of the Scottish people and the survival of the United Kingdom."

It's astonishing so little attention has been paid to the work of Sir Kenneth Calman and his colleagues over the past five months, especially given the responsibility that now rests on their shoulders. By the end of the year, they're being asked to completely redraw the blueprint for Scottish devolution – a job that took the Scottish Constitutional Convention seven years, between 1988 and 1995, and dominated the first two years of the first Blair administration.

The Commission is drawn from the ranks of people usually known – rather generously, I've always thought – as "the great and the good". Its members have two knighthoods, five peerages, an MBE and three CBEs between them. They include a childhood friend of Gordon Brown (Murray Elder), a former Deputy First Minister (Jim Wallace), two former Tory ministers (Lord Lindsay and Lord James Douglas Hamilton), a veteran trade union leader (Matt Smith of Unison) and a Big Brother contestant (John Loughton, chair of the Scottish Youth Parliament). On the face of it, they're a redoubtable bunch. But can they be trusted to make the right decision for Scotland's future?

Let's spell out what's at stake. If Calman fails to come up with a renewed and reinvigorated form of devolution, with real power over the Scottish economy, then the Union is unlikely to survive. In fact, it won't deserve to survive. The devolution we have today was a historic first step away from London rule, but it simply isn't up to the job of delivering a Scotland that takes real responsibility for itself and its future. In a choice between independence and the status quo, many Scots – myself included – would be tempted to opt for full sovereignty. Calman's job is to ensure there's a credible third choice: a strong and grown-up Holyrood Parliament that governs in partnership with Westminster – but can no longer blame London for Scotland's many ills.

I wish I could tell you how the Calman deliberations are going. But I can't. All the important arguments are happening in private, with no chance for scrutiny by the Scottish public. Who's digging in their heels on Scotland getting its hands on the financial levers of the economy? Who's arguing against Scottish control of drug law – perhaps the most nonsensical anomaly in the current devolution set-up? What kind of debate is the Commission having on abortion, embryology, immigration, energy and broadcasting? And while we're at it, what interest groups are lobbying the Commission members? The nuclear industry? The Catholic Church?

The paperwork published on the Commission website gives no clue to how the debate is progressing. Does Calman really expect Scots to simply accept his conclusions unquestioningly, like tablets of stone handed down from the mountain? This is a process that should have been as transparent as possible, with maximum opportunity for debate and contemplation. Only then could it justifiably claim to be the authentic voice of the nation, as the old Constitutional Convention was able to do. Instead, this looks like an old-fashioned stitch-up – politics as it used to be. It's an offence to one of the agreed principles of our fledgling democracy.

It may yet turn out that Calman's recommendations are radical and historic; it may well be that they recognise Scotland's growing confidence and ambition; it may turn out to be a milestone moment for Scotland, when the country coalesces around a new constitutional future that can claim widespread consent. I hope so, but we'll have to wait to find out. Gordon Brown's speech to CBI Scotland last week, in which he gave his blessing to new financial responsibilities for Holyrood, was encouraging. But doubts remain.

I don't particularly care about the motives of the Commission members. Maybe some of them are diehard uber-Unionists whose primary aim is to scupper the Nationalists. Maybe others are genuine enthusiasts for home rule, regardless of where it may eventually lead. I only hope they have the guts to be bold.