Independent woman

WE CRUCIFY politicians if they're indiscreet. And if they're scrupulously professional when ever they're on view? Why, we question their humanity. Tell people you're interviewing Nicola Sturgeon and this is what you'll hear: "Stony," says one fellow. Another mimes knocking. "Is anyone there? Has she ever cracked a smile?"

A female Holyrood insider says: "I have a lot of time for her, but she's so conscious of maybe doing something wrong that you never know what she feels. Control is the thing, and if you want to maintain it, the first person you have to control is yourself."

There's nothing like monosyllables and obduracy to make an interviewer contemplate career counselling. Imagine my relief on being greeted with a warm, relaxed smile.

As befits the No 2 politician in Scotland, hers is a very big office in St Andrews House with plentiful windows and furniture. Sturgeon, in contrast, is petite, immaculate and shod in an exquisite pair of shoes. I mention this only because she's admitted to a serious footwear addiction. This pair's devilish to walk in, she confides, while seeming utterly sure-footed to me.

There are no awkward silences, which I attribute to a career characterised by endless grilling. She never rejects a question, not even when I ask if she balances her cheque-book, though the person who told me was right when she said: "Nicola knows what she wants you to think."

Sturgeon, 38 in July, joined the SNP while at school. Whatever possessed her? "I actually find it hard to answer the question, because I'm not sure I know myself. Back then there wasn't a Scottish parliament, the SNP wasn't doing so well, and I'd have been mad thinking I'd get a career out of this. But I was always interested in what was going on around me.

"I grew up in the west of Scotland, in a working-class family. Thatcher was prime minister, so, partly in reaction to what she was doing to Scotland, I was veering toward the SNP. My English teacher was a Labour councillor and he assumed I would join the Labour party without ever asking me. That probably was the catalyst – spiting him made me join the SNP when I was at school!"

It's all well and good crusading to make the world a better place, but it's so scary and so messed up, what keeps her from losing heart? "You develop a sense of where you can make a difference and where you perhaps can't. Being a politician is a great job, I love it every single day – well, some are better than others, but most days I love it," she laughs. "But it's quite tough because of the public scrutiny. If you don't really, really love it, if you don't think you're in it for the greater good, you should get out." This past year has been "fantastically exciting" – and there are huge grins every time the subject arises. Best and worst bits?

"They're the same, the responsibility. It's no longer somebody else's fault. But having the responsibility also gives you the ability to do things. It wasn't until I tasted government that I really understood how soul-destroying opposition can be. Throwing grenades and criticising, it doesn't achieve anything." Surely it's harder being on the receiving end? "That comes with the territory. But I wouldn't want to go back to opposition; it's not as fulfilling and satisfying."

YET IF SHE WERE TO GO BACK, WOULD this experience prompt a whole new approach? "I don't intend to go back to opposition for a long time! Having had the experience of government you'd still do all the things (opposition has] to do, but you'd have a better understanding of what the constraints of being in power are, and what was fair and unfair criticism. It won't stop me making unfair criticisms, but yeah, it would change my approach."

Even more soul-destroying, I suspect, is being judged on every little thing. How does she deal with the deeply personal weighing and measuring? "You do have to develop a thick skin or you couldn't do the job. That's not saying everything written about me is bad! You have to put it into context and get on with things."

Venting helps, too, mainly to her partner of five years, Peter Murrell (SNP's chief executive) and within her close-knit family. Laughing again (where did we get the idea she's dour?), Sturgeon admits this probably tries their patience. It shows great strength of character, putting criticism behind you. "Maybe it's the opposite," she counters, surprising me. "Maybe pretending it's not there is not great strength of character. Maybe great strength of character would be to analyse it all. But I think that would drive you mad."

Does she ever feel politics has swallowed her whole? She shakes her head. "It is true that I couldn't draw a line where my SNP life ends and my other life starts. Saying I feel swallowed sounds as if I resent that. It's been my choice. I don't think, 'God, I wish I'd kept a bit of space for something else.' I'm having too much fun."

It's rumoured she has no life outside politics. She shrugs at the suggestion. "I don't get a lot of spare time. It's not something I moan about. Reading is my big escapism, losing myself in a book – all genres, anything and everything."

Another great passion is her family, and she admits she's an indulgent auntie to her niece and nephew, probably to compensate for that shortage of spare time. "It is a terrible cliché, but there's nothing like spending time with kids to take your mind off whatever's stressing you out. They simply don't care what's happening in the health service, they just want to have fun with you."

What about the sexism? I am, I confess, frustrated by reading about her shopping habits, as if including this in a profile somehow makes it "all right" that she's powerful because after all, she enjoys a wee flutter up the High Street. This bothers me more than it does her. "It's not something I care about, but women politicians are judged by different standards, that's a fact of life. A lot of the stuff written about Hillary Clinton is incredibly sexist. It's all to do with the fact she doesn't quite live up to the stereotype of a politician, which unfortunately is not female. "Where I've experienced sexism, and I'm not alone, is in how you're characterised. People used to say, 'She never smiles.' Apart from it not being true, it just wouldn't be said about male politicians. You're also judged more about what you wear." Nor would a man be labelled a "nippy sweetie". They'd say he doesn't suffer fools gladly. "Absolutely! Is it worse in politics than elsewhere? I suspect not, but you're more visible. I was just reading that the Spanish cabinet is a majority of women, and their new defence minister is seven months pregnant."

She shakes her head. "I still think that would be more difficult here, but it's a sign of how things are changing. I don't think most people think of politicians as men or women, just as politicians. They judge you on whether they like you or not or think you're any good or not."

Whether they like you or not? "Yeah."

Surely that's unfair? "That's inevitable. I'm not saying it's the only criteria, but if they don't like you …" she lets the sentence trail off.

Apparently it's a two-way street. I've heard she works very well with men without being the least bit flirtatious. She's never heard that before. "I'll deal with colleagues depending on how they are, so if I like you it would be better than if I don't, male or female." From the look she gives me I gather that goes double for journalists.

Well this is an elaborate dance, I concede. "Yeah, and maybe I say I don't think about it that much because I've programmed myself to take all these things into account, so it's not conscious any more."

IS SHE AS CONTROLLED AS THEY SAY? "The persona created for me is not necessarily who I really am." Only a select few know that Sturgeon. So I'll never catch her liquored up, dancing on a table? "Not while I'm in this job! That's not to say I've never done it."

And no, she doesn't balance the chequebook – right now she can't even find it. "I do have a rough idea of what's in the bank, but I'm not the most organised person."

More organised is Murrell, who also does the lion's share of the cooking. "I'm making him sound like the modern man," she says, rocking in her seat, hooting, and offering to draw up a list of his flaws for balance.

What are the ingredients for a healthy relationship, then? "Um, having a shared outlook on life – that doesn't mean you have to have shared political allegiances, but shared values. Compromise I suppose, being prepared to give and take."

Easier said than done! How does she manage? "I didn't say I was good at it. You didn't ask for the ingredients I was good at! You asked what I thought were important. And being prepared to listen, which he does more of than I do, as well. I suppose the thing is having someone on your side who you know is giving honest opinion based on what they think is in your best interest, with no other agenda."

If it all went away tomorrow? She might do something connected to law, though not necessarily in practice, she muses, blatantly reluctant to contemplate that future. And perhaps an oceanfront view.

"My granny and granddad lived by the sea. While I don't believe much in that stuff, I'm a Cancerian, a water sign and have always been drawn to the sea. I'd like to live by it sometime."

Many things make her cry, though she can't remember the last occurrence. She does recall her vivid dreams, at least until breakfast.

There are the usual anxiety nightmares about exams, plus the one about turning up to deliver a big speech and going blank. I doubt that'll be a problem today.

STURGEON ON

BEING IN GOVERNMENT

I always had this idea that being in government would mean constant running battles with civil servants to get things done. What surprised me is it's not like that; you can actually make things happen, and rather quickly, if you know what you want and are fairly determined. The frustration with the democratic process is that it's taken so long for the SNP to get elected!

RIGHT TO DIE

I was in the debating chamber when Margo Macdonald gave her speech, and I defy anyone not to be deeply moved. I have one or two worries, such as how do you build in adequate safeguards so it can't be abused? The other concern is palliative care. We have a long way to go in providing quality care at that very late stage of life. My worry is if we take the debate down the right to die road, do we take our eye off the ball? Do people want the right to die because they can't imagine going through the pain of a terminal illness? Shouldn't we be trying to minimise that pain and allow them quality of life, notwithstanding terminal illness? I veer backwards and forwards, but at the moment I would not personally support a change in the law.

ORGAN DONATION

I'm a huge supporter. One of the really fantastic things I got to do was to watch a kidney transplant. It was a living donation, and it was amazing that, two days later, a person who'd been at death's door was up and about with a new lease on life.