THE happiest I have ever seen Alex Salmond was when I bumped into him some years ago at Ayr Racecourse on the day of the Scottish Grand National. Leaning on the rail in a tweedy jacket, binoculars slung round his neck, he looked relaxed and thoroughly content. Salmond adores the track, and in addition to his job as an MP he used to write a tipster column for a daily newspaper. The cuddies are his one true passion outside politics.
His opponents have always tried to use this hobby against him. In the last Holyrood election, Labour tried to portray a vote for Salmond as a gamble, suggesting a vote for Scottish independence was like a punt on a long shot in a novice race at Kelso
. The language of betting kept dripping into Labour's campaign rhetoric.
The mud has stuck, to some extent. There used to be a moment in every election campaign when the SNP staged a photo opportunity at a bookmaker's, with Salmond placing a charity bet on a resounding Nationalist victory. No longer. Perhaps SNP strategists decided this was doing their rivals' work for them, lending support to the notion of Salmond as gambler who could not be trusted in government.
Yet after the events of the past week, that's exactly how the First Minister appears. Salmond might just as well grow a spiv's moustache and start using John McCririck's tic-tac gestures to accompany his speeches in the Holyrood debating chamber. In his decision to exclude Scotland from the next generation of nuclear power stations, Salmond has proved he is indeed a political gambler, and that he's putting Scotland's long-term national interest at risk.
The scientific evidence is about as unanimous as you can get. Failure to replace Scotland's ageing nuclear power stations at Torness and Hunterston will mean that in 20 years we will struggle to guarantee a reliable power supply to Scottish homes and businesses. From being a net exporter of electricity, Scotland may be forced to import it from England or the Continent. That's a strange definition of Scottish independence.
As we report in our news pages today, Professor Wilson Sibbet, Scotland's former chief scientific officer, has added his verdict that the SNP strategy simply "doesn't work". He says: "Even the most avid anti-nuclear SNP person will not like it if the lights are switched off." Salmond assures us there is no need for us to worry our little heads. Scotland's bountiful supply of renewable energy will see us through. He has no proof this will be the case. At best, this is a hope; at worst, a reckless gamble.
It's wonderful that Scotland is blessed with so much potential for renewable energy. Hydro-electric plants have served us well for generations and can be relied upon as long as rain keeps on falling in the Highlands. (Now that is definitely worth a flutter.)
But the technology of wind farms and undersea turbines powered by the movement of the waves is still in its infancy. As is the tricky problem of harbouring the generated energy so it can provide a reliable and consistent baseload supply. Yet the SNP is sticking to an anti-nuclear stance that has been a hallmark of the party since the 1950s. Consistency is a commendable quality in politics, but only up to a point. Much has changed since those days, not least an awareness of the threat posed to the planet by climate change.
But the most important change is that the SNP is now in power. This places an additional responsibility on politicians like Salmond. Once in Government, it is no longer enough to pursue policies that simply make you popular. You cannot govern by simply asking the crowd for a show of hands. It is sometimes necessary to go against the grain of public opinion to make tough decisions in the wider and long-term national interest. This, Salmond has failed to do.
Worryingly, a pattern is developing of scientific advice ignored for fear of losing public support. The obvious comparison is with the SNP Government's stance on the reorganisation of NHS hospital services to ensure the best quality of treatment. Medical experts agree that to deliver top-quality care it has to be delivered by 'centres of excellence' that see a larger volume of patients than at present.
Naturally, this means the closure of some smaller local facilities as these services are centralised. This isn't about bureaucracy for its own sake or the saving of cash – it's a clinical judgment about how to save more lives and treat illness more successfully. Yet the SNP has turned its face against this, preferring to pander to an understandable local desire to keep local hospitals open.
When the care in question is the treatment of child cancer sufferers, the consequences of going against the scientific advice become all too real. As this newspaper revealed recently, NHS bosses believe it is necessary to reduce the number of child cancer treatment centres in Scotland from three to two, or possibly just the one. Aberdeen's centre – at the heart of the SNP's north-east power base – would almost certainly close with children and their families having to travel instead to the Central Belt for treatment.
Health Minister Nicola Surgeon has yet to make her view public on this one, but when she does it will be a telling test. It will show whether the SNP Government is at last accepting that high office sometimes means putting the national interest before party interest, public support and even manifesto promises. Now, what are the odds on that?
The full article contains 943 words and appears in Scotland On Sunday newspaper.
