Authors: Rosa Prince
Life in the shadow Cabinet was nowhere near as scintillating as being in government had been, however:
It’s pretty dull. Looking back on the shadow Cabinet, it is inherently a frustrating process. You may win the argument in Parliament, you may win the argument in the media, you may win the argument on TV, but the other guy makes the decisions, and that’s frustrating.
There were highs, however, during his time in the shadow Cabinet, where he served in a succession of roles including Health and Education, Agriculture and Culture.
Two particular high points were responding to the foot-and-mouth crisis of 2001 and bringing Tony Blair to the brink of defeat over student tuition fees.
I was a shadow minister for agriculture at the time of the foot-and-mouth epidemic in 2001 and even at the time it was recognised that we were on the front foot.
That was quite a frantic period in my life. I gave up my weekends in Suffolk, I stayed in London. Obviously I would have loved to have been the minister rather than the shadow minister. For two months it took over my life.
On tuition fees in January 2004, in my capacity as education spokesman, we had one of the most remarkable debates of that parliament, perhaps of the whole Blair years. We came closer to defeating Tony Blair on a major policy issue than at any other time in his entire ten years as Prime Minister. It was down to about six votes.
To lead for the opposition in a vital debate in a completely packed House is in itself quite an event. As it happens I didn’t agree with the policy.
As the Conservatives stumbled through the Blair years with a succession of leaders, Mr Yeo found himself generally backing the more moderate, but losing candidate.
There were ‘heady moments’ where he was talked of as a candidate in 2001, before Michael Howard’s near unanimous election.
When David Cameron became leader in 2005, Mr Yeo decided to retire to the back benches. Once again, the move was ‘partly a calculation’ based on his age and prospects of advancement:
I thought, ‘Whoever is leader of the party, however much they may like me and support me and however much I may then work for them, the probability is they’re going to want a younger team around them. So ministerial jobs in 2010 are going to be focused on younger people.’
I thought, ‘Where can I make a contribution? Well, I can make a bigger contribution as a select committee chairman.’ I didn’t know quite how much fun it would be but I thought it would be fun.
I have no idea if David Cameron would have offered me a job. I was a supporter of his and still am, and I think he has done a good job.
I doubt [he was going to say] to me, ‘Tim, why don’t you become Secretary of State for Health?’ … so I think I made the right decision.
Mr Yeo served first on the Environmental Audit Committee and then, in 2010, was one of the first elected committee chairman of the Energy and Climate Change Committee, entering into perhaps his happiest time in Parliament. ‘That was a natural place for me to go,’ he said. ‘You can have real freedom, which as a minister you don’t have. I think I’ve been able to have a greater influence from a select committee chair than I would have had in the Cabinet.’
Is it a regret that he never served in the Cabinet?
Of course it is. [But] there’s no entitlement. I would have liked to have been in Cabinet, of course, and that was my hope when I came in, but I don’t waste too much time looking back on that.
I didn’t seem to have a very strong ideology before I came in [to Parliament]. I knew I was a Conservative but I think if I’d known then where Labour were going to get to under Tony Blair, I think I would think, ‘Well, I’d not be uncomfortable with that.’ It would have been a much more marginal decision.
Apart from the instincts towards free markets and all of that kind of stuff, I also observed that the Conservatives tended to be in power for longer periods.
Then, slightly unluckily for me, there came a thirteen-year period in opposition, just at the time when I might have expected to do some quite senior jobs. So I made a miscalculation.
Mr Yeo may also have made a miscalculation with regard to his safe seat. Last year he was deselected after losing a vote of local party members.
He had hoped to have served at least another five years, perhaps more, but is philosophical about the way events turned out, saying he never gave way to anger or disappointment. ‘Life’s far too short to have those kinds of emotions,’ he says. ‘No, I’m looking forward to the next stage. I can change the future, I can’t change the past.’
Although he denies he’ll miss the place, he has fond memories of his time in the Commons:
It’s a great privilege to be a Member of Parliament. You are at worst a very upfront spectator at some very great events and at times you have an opportunity to take part and influence them.
So why would you not want to do that? I’m genuinely surprised at the number of my colleagues who are giving up mid-career.
Why would you want to leave? Look around, who wouldn’t want to work here? I come to work here even in the recess.
I’ve had an exceptionally interesting time. I’ve had one or two high points, not perhaps as many as one would have liked, but I’ve had my share.
And the last two jobs I’ve had, on these two select committees, have been really worthwhile.
I don’t really have what I would call regrets or disappointments. There may have been missed opportunities and there have certainly been mistakes.
Everyone makes mistakes; some have bigger consequences that others. I’m certainly not looking back with any sense of complaint or regret or entitlement. Far from it, it’s been very positive, the whole thing.
***
Born in London; attended Cambridge University; became a businessman and charity worker and was director of the Spastics Society (now Scope).
1974: Unsuccessfully fights Bedwellty
1983: Elected MP for South Suffolk
1988: Becomes PPS to Home Secretary Douglas Hurd
1989: Follows Douglas Hurd to Foreign Office
1992: Becomes Health Minister
1993: Becomes Minister for the Environment and Countryside
1994: Resigns over revelations of an affair and child by his mistress
1997: Becomes shadow Agriculture Minister
2001: Becomes shadow Culture Minister
2002: Becomes shadow Trade and Industry Secretary
2003: Becomes shadow Health and Education Secretary
2004: Becomes shadow Environment and Transport Secretary
2005: Becomes chairman of the Environmental Audit Committee
2010: Becomes chairman of the Energy and Climate Change Committee
2013: Deselected by executive committee of Conservative Association in South Suffolk
2014: Deselection confirmed by secret ballot of party members in South Suffolk
Tim Yeo has one son and one daughter with wife Diane, as well as two daughters by other relationships, including one adopted as a baby.
Frank Dobson
, seventy-five, was Labour MP for Holborn & St Pancras South (1979–83) and Holborn & St Pancras (2003–15).
‘I foolishly resigned – I was promised I could return to the government, then Tony Blair broke his word.’
***
My distinguished predecessor Lena Jeger announced she was retiring; various people urged me to stand. My wife’s position basically was [that] I ought to at least try because if I didn’t in subsequent years I might turn into a miserable sod.
I don’t think it occurred to me that I wouldn’t win. I never felt tense about it or anything. Isn’t that weird?
It was great. It wasn’t too great at the end of the month because my pay had halved.
I arrive and sort of wander in and at that time there were no welcoming arrangements, no briefing sessions, you just had to find your own way.
I remember after about six months, Bill Rogers, he who became one of the [SDP] Gang of Four, saying to me I looked like I’d been here for years. I was never quite sure whether or not it was a compliment.
My high point in Parliament was when Nelson Mandela came to address both Houses of Parliament in Westminster Hall.
I’d been a supporter of anti-apartheid since I was a student in 1959, the anti-apartheid movement was founded in the Holborn & St Pancras constituency, its headquarters were always in Holborn & St Pancras constituency. The greatest man of the twentieth century. Wow.
It was the most stupid time anyway – I foolishly resigned [as Health Secretary to stand for Mayor of London but was beaten by Ken Livingstone, standing as an independent]. But if he hadn’t broken his word he wouldn’t have become mayor because he promised if he didn’t win the nomination he wouldn’t stand. That was the worst time really.
[Tony] Blair said, ‘If you do stand and it doesn’t work, I’ll see you alright.’ I’m still waiting. I had a promise I would return to the government.
After the 2001 election I said to him that I was somewhat p***** off. He did the usual ‘now you see it, now you don’t’ charming bit and that was that.
Because [I turned] seventy-five on 15 March. I don’t feel too bad. I feel pretty good. If it’s a five-year parliament I would be eighty; eighty is getting a bit long in the tooth.
Yes, I will a bit. This is so flattering, I have been taken aback by the number of people who’ve rung or emailed or stopped me in the street or in meetings and said nice things about me.
The constituency now is one of the biggest concentrations of biomedical research in the world, possibly the biggest once the Crick Institute opens. I’ve been a governor of the Royal College for some time and also involved with London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine.
I’m hoping to continue to be involved with that because I think biomedical research is going to be a large chunk of our future.
Make yourself available to the people you claim to represent and always tell them the truth.
***
Frank Dobson grew up in Yorkshire, in the Conservative town of Selby, but he says he was ‘always Labour’ and ‘always interested’ in politics.
He moved to London to go to university, but avoided student politics, saying: ‘I had better things to do – like theatre and opera and girls.’
It wasn’t until the early 1970s, while living in Holborn and working at the Central Electricity Generating Board, that he took his first steps towards a political career. After leading a campaign to stop local residential buildings being turned into offices, he ran for the local council. Within two years ‘by all sorts of quirks of fate’ he was the leader of Camden Council.
By 1975, however, Mr Dobson had had enough. He says:
We had got two children at that point and [his wife] Janet was expecting another one.
I was working full time, and being leader of the council part time. Nobody complained to me, I can say that. Nobody complained that I wasn’t being a good local councillor, nobody at work complained that I wasn’t doing the work, the children didn’t complain that I wasn’t a proper dad and my wife didn’t complain that I wasn’t doing my husbandly duties, but I thought I wasn’t doing any of them as well as I’d have liked.
Mr Dobson became a local government ombudsman, but within a couple of years found himself plunged back into the political fray when the sitting MP in Holborn & St Pancras South, Lena Jager, stood down.
Friends in the local Labour Party persuaded him to put his name forward for selection. ‘The people on the shortlist were [businessman] John Mills, who was runner-up, and Patricia Hewitt [the former Health Secretary] who was far from being runner-up,’ he says. ‘And so I was duly selected.’
Mr Dobson arrived in Westminster as Labour went into opposition in 1979. The result had been expected during the campaign but was a disappointment to the new MP nevertheless:
It wasn’t looking good but you always live in hope. The Conservative majority wasn’t that big. That came in ’83.
I think I’d only been in the building three times. I don’t think I was ambitious to get on and I didn’t envisage getting on other than to be the local MP, to be honest.
And then after a year Neil Kinnock [the future party leader], who was education [spokesman], got me doing the schools part of education. That’s how I started getting on.
He was fun to be with. I think he’s one of the people who doesn’t get anything like the credit he deserves.
In 1980, as Mr Dobson was settling into front-bench life, the left-wing Michael Foot was elected party leader over the favourite, Denis (later Lord) Healey, the former Chancellor.
Mr Dobson claims the distinction of having voted for all five of the men who were elected leader during his thirty-six years in the Commons.
He says:
This is an awful thing to say, [but] I’ve voted for everybody who’s become leader of the Labour Party. I voted for Michael Foot because I thought it was necessary to break away from the state the party had got to in 1979. I voted for Neil because I thought he would be better than Roy [later Lord Hattersley], although I always liked Roy. He saved the party and at great personal sacrifice. It was one hell of a struggle.
When the new leader offered to make him shadow Social Security Minister, Mr Dobson’s response was blunt: ‘I said, “You’re joking, make me Health Minister.”’
He says he was drawn to the brief partly because ‘it’s home territory for Labour’, and also because a number of hospitals, including Great Ormond Street children’s hospital, and medical research institutes, were located in his constituency. It was an area he would specialise in for much of his career.
While serving as a shadow Health Minister, Mr Dobson ‘impressed the comrades’ by highlighting the government’s poor record on cervical cancer screening – important in an era when the shadow Cabinet was elected by Labour MPs.
After the 1987 general election he had done enough to be among those chosen to serve on the top team. The job he was given was something of a let-down though:
I was quite disappointed because when I was elected to the shadow Cabinet I ended up with the non-job [of] being the national campaign coordinator. I insisted on being made shadow Leader of the House.
The downside of it was – it was slightly complimentary, in that I assumed they wouldn’t think I’d make a total balls-up – if there was some issue Neil and Hat [Roy Hattersley] as leader and deputy didn’t want to go on the
News at Ten
, if it wasn’t particularly specific, I used to go on. It [was] hell on earth.
Within two years Mr Dobson was made shadow Energy Secretary, and, after the party lost the 1992 general election and Lord Kinnock was succeeded by the late John Smith, shadow Employment Secretary.
He says of the two leaders:
There were a number of things for which Neil took a real kicking at the time, which, when you look back [at them], he was absolutely right [about].
My politics were nearer to Neil’s politics than John Smith’s politics, but just in terms of day-to-day dealings, I was probably more comfortable with John. I was desperately saddened when John died. He was really getting on top of things.
Following Mr Smith’s shocking death from a heart attack at the age of fifty-five in May 1994, and Tony Blair’s election as leader, Mr Dobson was made shadow Environment Minister. He says of Mr Blair: ‘I was quite happy. Certainly at that time we always got on. He really is charming. He is one of the most amazingly charming people you’re ever likely to encounter; in almost any circumstance he’s charming.’
Before the 1997 election, a newspaper had run a story in which Mr Blair’s team were given marks out of ten for their ‘New Labour-ness’. He received a zero. ‘Yes, I probably was nil point,’ he says. ‘I might have got 1.5 out of ten.’
With the general election approaching, Mr Dobson was reasonably confident of victory, but, having wrongly assumed Labour would win in 1992, a niggling doubt remained until the day he went home to Yorkshire to campaign in the town of Whitby, which until then had always been held by the Conservatives.
He says:
We went across the swing bridge, there were about a dozen of us, we didn’t have a banner or anything [and] tourists started clapping. And I thought, ‘ooh er’. My impression is that a lot of people intended us to win the 1992 election and in 1997 made bloody sure we did.
With Labour’s success Mr Dobson became a minister. His pleasure was diluted slightly, however, by a strange incident in the hours after the election:
We get the result and I go to the Festival Hall [where Labour’s victory party was held] and a couple of journalists who had been briefed by someone said: ‘Oh, there’s a rumour you won’t be in the Cabinet.’ Right.
Indeed, the BBC, when showing Tony going to Downing Street in the escorted car, said the same: ‘Isn’t it ironic that it’s going through the constituencies of two people who might not be in the Cabinet?’
It didn’t come out of nowhere. I assumed it wasn’t true, I have to say, although it nags.
I got a phone call from Jonathan Powell [Tony Blair’s chief of staff], this was on the Friday, saying, ‘He doesn’t want to see you ’til tomorrow, but you’ll be getting an important secretary of state job that you’ll like.’
I thought: ‘Well, that rules out Northern Ireland and Social Security.’
So I turn up at Downing Street at the due time, possibly a quarter of an hour early, on the Saturday morning, and this young civil servant said, ‘Where have you put your car?’
I said, ‘I haven’t got a car, I came on the bus.’
He said, ‘I don’t think you need the official car straight away, just to go across the road…’
So the only things that were left across the road were in health or defence. Killing or curing.
I went in and he said: ‘I’d like you to be Health Secretary.’
We then went through who would be doing what and I was very happy with who would be doing what. Tessa [Jowell, future Culture Secretary] was public health, Alan Milburn [future Health Secretary] was the number two, Paul [now Lord] Boateng was social services and mental health. By God, they all became Cabinet ministers.
The frisson really was at the first Cabinet meeting. It was nice to look round and see that some of your oldest friends were also in the Cabinet.
Mr Dobson swiftly found his feet at the Department of Health:
I did enjoy it. You could do things. I was criticised at first because people said, ‘Well, what are the instant things you’re going to do?’
And I said, ‘First instant is I’m going to have a bloody good think about things.’
I can say that everything I did worked. But it only worked because thought was given to it before it was launched. I think some of the Downing Street lot didn’t like the fact that I wasn’t into an initiative every twenty minutes.
It seemed to me my job was to try to make it possible for the people working in the health services and social services to do their jobs as well as they would like to do them, because most people’s ambition is to do a [good] job of work. There are some idle bastards and idiots but most people will do a decent job of work.
Mr Dobson was unruffled by attempts by the New Labour apparatchiks to persuade him to take up the new Prime Minister’s modernising programme.
He says:
I just used to ignore them. I’d go over every two or three weeks to see his nibs and we’d have a discussion about various things.
My civil servants would get a note of what transpired at these meetings and quite frequently the last note would be: ‘The Prime Minister raised the possibility of increased private sector … in the NHS.’
They would say, ‘What should we do about that?’
I’d say, ‘Nothing, because he didn’t say that.’
Whether he knew that they were writing it, I don’t really know. Because it was silly, and whatever he was, he wasn’t silly.
Asked for his greatest achievement as Health Secretary, Mr Dobson says:
I think pushing through the implementation of the Meningitis C vaccination campaign at least a year, possibly two years, sooner than the machine would have had it.
I said: ‘We can’t find the money? You must be bloody joking. I don’t know much about Meningitis C but it kills 100 toddlers a year and maims another 1,000.’
After I’d foolishly resigned I’d got … a graph and it shows it toddling along at around about 100, then it drops to nothing eighteen months later. I’d look at this and be proud.