The many rules of Parliament – and how MPs can learn them
Sir Thomas Erskine May, 1st Baron Farnborough (1815 1886), British constitutional theorist. Caption: 'Parliamentary Practic'. Date: 1871 (Chronicle / Alamy Stock Photo)
5 min read
The House of Commons can be a baffling place, even for seasoned veterans. Former clerk of committees Paul Evans shares some tips on navigating the thickets
When you arrive at a new workplace, if you are ambitious, you will set about learning the ropes.
And in most workplaces the “ropes” are a combination of rules that are written down, traditions, cultural norms (which can usually only be detected by studying the behaviour and reactions of the old hands), and assumptions about “correct” behaviour that are enforced (and sometimes invented) by whatever group has the status in that place of the prefects in a school.
In the House of Commons this is not an easy task. Even the written rules are not gathered together in one place. There are the 200 or so Standing Orders (just ask for a copy in the Vote Office). But they are not an easy read, even for the willing. Mostly, you will learn by using them when you have to. For example, many of the Standing Orders were made to cancel precedents that seemed no longer useful, and this can make them rather obscure (my favourite example is Standing Order No.41(2)).
One spin-off benefit of the Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill is that it has engaged the attention of so many MPs in its passage so early in this parliament, and the learning of legislative procedure by doing it – the mysteries of selection and grouping, the difference between Committee and Report, the significance of money resolutions and so forth – have had to be explained and understood and, more importantly, lived through.
It has also introduced the new House to the phenomenon of “claiming the closure” (and the super-majority requirement for doing so successfully), and the mystery of private sittings and testing the quorum. However, Private Members’ Bills follow a procedure that is now largely obsolete in the era of universal “programming” of government bills, so applying that learning to a government bill is another challenge.
When seeking to learn the ropes, the new MP has rather more sources of information than they can be expected to really master
Another written source of rules is Erskine May’s Parliamentary Practice, aka the bible of parliamentary procedure. (Erskine May is available online on the parliamentary website or as a very expensive book – but it is an allowable expense for Independent Parliamentary Standards Authority.) It is biblical, in the sense that it is very long and requires extended study to make sense of it. It is also biblical in the way that it is open to conflicting interpretations. It tries to describe the ways in which the House has worked on procedural problems in the past, and the precedents of interpretation that have been set. May, as it is commonly known, also for example sets out the rules on whether a parliamentary question is in order, based on a long string of decisions of previous speakers over the last 150 years, and discusses the grounds on which amendments proposed to bills have historically been ruled out of order. There is much else in there.
Rulings from the Chair gathered in May are a crucial source. The Speaker of the House of Commons is, amongst presiding officers internationally, peculiarly powerful. They do not, unlike the speaker of the House of Representatives in Washington, have any political power. That is the source of their authority. But they have great influence over the course and conduct of debate, and unlike many other presiding officers in this area, they pretty much cannot, and should not, be challenged.
The Speaker and deputies choose who will speak, but follow a fairly strict but unwritten set of conventions for doing so. They set and enforce time limits; select or reject amendments for debate or decision; maintain a civilised discourse in the Chamber and elsewhere. That is why MPs nod to the Chair on entering or leaving – showing respect for the office. That is why they address the Chair in debate, so that their comments are somehow depersonalised and maintain a moderate and respectful tone. That is why MPs do not reveal their private dealings with the Speaker – an application for an urgent question or emergency debate refused, for example. That is why when seeking to speak in a debate they write to the Speaker, setting out their specific qualifications for a particular debate, but do not badger or cajole. That is why they give notice to the Chair of any point of order they intend to raise. And similar respect is extended to chairs of committees.
So, when seeking to learn the ropes, the new MP has rather more sources of information than they can be expected to really master. And the ropes are often invisible in their mysterious conduits anyway. There are many cribs (ask in the library for recommendations) of which the most obvious is The MPs Guide to Procedure, but you still need to know what question you are asking. There is the essential (and much shorter) Rules of behaviour and courtesies in the House of Commons (both available from the Vote Office). But knowing, for example, if you are a PPS that your minister needs to deposit copies of any statement they are making in the Vote Office, or that if you want to make a point of order during a division you have to be sitting down, are things you only really learn by watching.
However, there are expert tutors available – the clerks. They will answer your specific questions, offer private or small-group tuition, explain the reasoning behind decisions, guide you through the rules and conventions when you are presenting your first Ten Minute Rule Bill or undertaking some other daunting thing for the first (or even second) time. They might even explain what the estimates are, and the rule of Crown initiative. They are there to help. Don’t be afraid to ask.
