Unparliamentary Language: Conor McGinn
9 min read
Agnes Chambre sits down with parliamentarians to find out more about the human side of politics. This week, Labour’s Conor McGinn on being fired and losing his sense of direction
What were you like at school?
I must have been awful. A nightmare. Probably a bit precocious and relatively smart, but with an incredible cheek and ego. My colleagues would probably say nothing has changed.
What did you want to be when you grew up?
I wanted to be a postman, I just thought it was such a great job to get out and about and see the world. But had I not gone into politics, I could have very well ended up as a teacher or a police officer, some job with a bit of authority and public service in it.
Ever think you’ll do that in later life?
Well, the electorate may decide that for me. That’s not within my gift at present.
What habit really annoys you in other people?
People who live in organised chaos and try and muddle through through sheer bloody force and constantly being apologetic for being late. So all of the things that I see in myself, annoy me in other people.
Do you have any recurring nightmares?
Sometimes it feels like we in the Labour party are in one. I have another one about missing the train. Psychologists would probably read into that a lot, but I think it’s because I frequently miss trains, I don’t think there’s much more than that.
What’s your greatest fear?
I worry about my family. We’re in a very uncertain time and people feel now more than ever that the whole world is engulfed in unpredictable chaos. On a personal level, I worry about my family but on a political level, my greatest fear is that we never see a Labour government again.
Do you think there will be?
I have to believe there will be. If I didn’t believe that, what would be the point of me coming into work every day? But it’s not very easy at the minute. The world is too dangerous a place for us not to come back.
What’s something that you’ve done that you’ll never do again?
Hopefully I’ll never be stopped by a soldier again, which happened quite a lot when I was a kid. We lived in a very militarised village so every road, in and out, was a man checkpointing. I was acutely aware of what it was and what it meant. What I have subsequently discovered is that some of those soldiers who are my constituents were just kids as well who were really scared too. I’m in a very privileged position now because I get to talk to the soldiers and the police officers who stopped us as well and get their perspective.
Have you spoken to people who stopped you personally?
Oh yes. Well just this morning, I was woken by a text at 5am from Kris Hopkins, who’s a really good friend of mine and Tory MP and he’s a Minister in the Northern Ireland office. his text was to let me know that Martin McGuinness had died. Kris served as a soldier when I was a kid and we both remember, me as a six year old and him as a serving soldier, the day that the police station was blown up. So I think it’s pretty amazing that him as a minister in the NIO and me as a Labour MP are texting each other about someone like Martin McGuinness having died.
How did you feel when you found out?
Sad. I feel he had made a huge contribution and I feel he still had a big contribution to make. I think there’s a duty for all of us in positions of responsibility in Northern Ireland to see this thing through to the end, to genuine peace and reconciliation between people who share this very small part of the world.
What is the best piece of advice you’ve been given?
‘God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can and wisdom to know the difference.’
And the worst?
Rosie Winterton said it would be a great idea for me to be the Treasury whip. What I didn’t know at the time was that it just meant you had to do loads and loads of delegated legislation, committees and bills. I spent most of my first year sitting between John McDonnell, Rebecca Long Bailey and Richard Burgon on very long and very tedious finance measures in dusty committee rooms in the Palace of Westminster.
Wes Streeting said a similar thing in his interview but he blamed you...
That was a slur against my character, it happened to be true but it was a slur against my character.
What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve done?
I have a really bad habit in this place of losing my sense of direction. I burst into the wrong bill committee once and took my seat. I actually burst into the wrong office here last week; I got off on the third floor, and went into Jessica Morden’s office and looked at the four researchers and said ‘who are you?’ And they looked at me and ‘who are you and what are you doing here?
How would your friends describe you in three words?
Impertinent and idiosyncratic. A woman that I worked with when I was a cleaner, she used to say I was incorrigible.
When did you work as a cleaner?
When I did my A-levels. I got the chance to work for a couple of hours after school with my two best friends. It was brilliant fun. My supervisor said I wasn’t so much a cleaner as a dirt redistributor. To be honest we spent most of the time playing draughts, sneaking across to the snooker club and on a Friday heading away for an early pint. Interestingly enough, I am a beneficiary of the equal pay act. I want to say to my friends Jess Phillips and Harriet Harman that ‘sisters, I understand what it’s like!’ Because we were cleaners, what was traditionally a female profession, they had a pay review because the caretakers who were mostly men were paid far more. Maybe five or six years ago, ten years after I’d been a cleaner, I put in my application and I got a cheque for £400. The women who were doing full time got a nice £4k or £5k.
Have you ever been fired from a job?
As a cleaner.
Why?
The fact that I didn’t clean was probably part of it. And I used to miss days if there was a better offer. I think clocking in and clocking out without being there was probably the one that did it in the end.
Have you ever broken the law?
At university I probably came under the bad influence of older boys and girls and I probably tried dope a few times. But I was a wee fella from the country. I went to Goldsmiths and I didn’t realise the reputation it had for being very arty. I thought I was worldly wise, we were always exposed to books and learning. But we went to this pub, this really rough pub that had no windows, and I went into the toilet and this fella said to me as I went in ‘Charlie’? And I said ‘no, no, Conor’. I left and then later came back in again and they said ‘Charlie’? And I said ‘no, I’ve just told you, it’s Conor.’ I and was so affronted by this I came back and told my mates. They ribbed me constantly through my whole time at uni. Oh also, my TV licence.
You don’t pay your TV licence?
Obviously I do now but at university I didn’t. My mother put £4 of TV stamps in a little card when I moved here and that card sat for maybe two years without being topped up, despite my mum asking me every week if I’d topped up. I remember they called once to the door and I produced this meek card and I was subsequently ordered to pay the balance, which I did of course. Of course now I pay my TV licence promptly and in full.
What would the title of your autobiography be?
An Honest Rogue.
Who would play you in the movie of your life?
Tom Blenkinsop, because he’s the handsomest Labour MP and he knows it. And he’ll probably be looking for work after the next election.
When was the last time you cried?
I cried when my daughter was born. Partly because she was delivered on the living room floor and it was the trauma and the fear and having the two people you love most in the world, basically in your hands, and no one else being there. That is something I’ll never do again, guaranteed.
What’s been the lowest point in your career?
Last summer was rough. I felt an injustice at some of the things that were being said about me. I felt, these people don’t know me. That was pretty tough. But the lowest moment was when Jo Cox was murdered. That was just devastating beyond words for a whole lot of reasons. I felt a lot of guilt because I got to go home to my family that night and hug my kids and my wife and do all the things that Jo won’t get to do again. I think about her a lot and I know other colleagues do too.
When was the last time you made someone laugh?
I like to think I make somebody laugh every day, whether it’s intentional or no, whether it’s with me or at me. I told Karl Turner I loved him in a text because he said I didn’t have to do this delegated legislation committee so I could be interviewed by you. And then he replied saying ‘LOL’.
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