Darling’s bombardment of boredom

I went along to my first treasury select committee yesterday. Unfortunately, the show’s centre-piece was our Chancellor, Alastair Darling.

Gone were the wallet-swollen fat cats Sir Fred and Sir Tom and gone, too, was any conviction from the MPs selected to bring economic big players to book.

Darling, flanked by two identically balding accountants, was on peerlessly dull form. His bushy slugs rarely raised their heads above his wire-framed specs as he steadfastly refused to give MPs anything resembling a straight answer.

Try as they might, Darling’s ramblings were so non-committal that the select committee resorted to drastic measures. Andrew Tyrie MP had nothing left in his armoury other than a repetition of “Yes or no? Yes or no?”, with increasing disinterest.

John Thurso MP actually fell asleep waiting for his turn to ask his questions. So did several member of the public and even a few overworked journalists.

Darling’s insistence that his budget prediction of growth returning to the UK economy by the end of the year was still relevant, in spite of an IMF mauling, along with other equivocal responses to public debt produced amazing results. MPs started to accept what he was saying.

Michael Fallon MP asked quite legitimately: “How can we trust you to restore the public finances in the bad years when your party couldn’t keep then in check during the good?”

He pointed out that public spending projections amounted to an £8bn cut over the next 12 months. Darling, his skin slowly blending into the beige mock-pine walls, bumbled back with something about the Government not spending money that they had earmarked for spending or something, and the entire committee was placated. Or anaesthetised.

As Brown faces a further undermining of power in the Commons later today, he could do well to take a leaf out of Darling’s mauve speech-book. If you can’t beat them, bore them.