How tall is your flagpole? Tory MSP's trivial £100,000 questions make mockery of Holyrood

In the intervening three centuries, countless other scandals have provided plentiful fodder for written questions, a time-honoured device that has helped to hold governments to account. That, at least, is the theory. In Scotland’s legislature, the row over Douglas Lumsden’s use of the protocol underlines how it can be misused in practice.

Last month alone, the Scottish Conservative MSP submitted 987 written questions, a prodigious undertaking that has led to him being accused of using artificial intelligence to draft his queries. Mr Lumsden has denied this, and stressed that his questions have elicited key details from ministers across a range of issues.

Sauce, salt and pepper sachets

Yet only a minority of the queries could be viewed as relevant to his party role as energy and net zero spokesman, and it is hard to see how the list MSP is attending to the concerns of his constituents when asking about sauce, salt and pepper sachets procured by parliamentary caterers.

Mr Lumsden’s condiment-related enquiries did not stop there. He asked for details of the profit margins on jars of honey sold at Holyrood’s shop, and how the parliament verifies that the beeswax used for the Great Seal of Scotland comes from its own beehives.

Any misapprehension that the 53-year-old’s interests are restricted to culinary matters is easily dismissed by a cursory search of the other questions lodged: probing the cost of maintaining cat’s eyes on the A90; a list of national flags purchased by the Scottish Government over the past decade; and the number of flagpoles in the ownership of Scottish ministers, broken down by height. The flagpoles, that is, not the ministers.

To what do we attribute Mr Lumsden’s restless mind? It may simply be innate curiosity. Perhaps he is considering a new career in vexillology, or at the very least, a stint moonlighting as a pub quizmaster in the Members Room Restaurant & Bar?

An important question

Either way, the innumerable trivial questions he has submitted is a drain on resources in straitened economic times. As of autumn 2023, the average cost of answering a parliamentary question stood at around £98.50, meaning that the bill for responding to Mr Lumsden’s slew of queries in January alone could reach almost £100,000.

The former IT executive is not the first Scottish politician to stand accused of gaming the system – during his time as a Labour MSP, Lord Foulkes was urged to exercise restraint having submitted as many as 26 written questions in a single day – and it is unlikely he will be the last.

Holyrood’s latest records indicate that the number of written questions lodged has increased sharply of late, up from 5,772 in 2018/19 to 8,923 in 2022/23, the latest year for which statistics are available. Has there been a commensurate upturn in robust accountability of the government? Now there is a question worth asking.