Lib Dem conference: Nervous and full of lobbyists

By Luke Pollard / @lukepollard

Most people who work in lobbying are political – with political beliefs that match one party. But as campaigners and advocates it is common for us to have to go to all three party conferences with our day job. I’m just returning from Liverpool now and I wanted to share what I thought (without my day job hat on) were the key things we, as a party and as a movement, can learn from the 2010 Lib Dem conference.

I’ve been to a fair few Lib Dem conferences with my various day jobs and the unique factor that stood out for me was that it truly represented a party conference – a gathering for members to meet and debate policy. Not so this year. It could have been the new venue (superb as it was), or it could be that there were fewer MPs – but the real distinguishing feature was the sheer volume of people in suits.

Lib Dems are not known for their suit wearing, indeed members with socks and sandles, beards and casual slacks were still plenty on offer. Lobbyists, however, are. Speaking as a lobbyist, or public affairs practitioner for those who regard the former as slightly derogatory, the place was full of us. In the conference bars you would have been hard pressed to find a Lib Dem amidst the sheer volume of consultants, political advisers and in-house PA professionals. And, speaking as a Labour man not known for his love of the Liberals, the conference was poorer for it. For all the jibes and stick, there was an honesty about Lib Dem conferences of old, a genuine feeling of policy debate and the party operating as a collective coming together for all the right reasons. I did not get that sense this year and that is sad.

On the conference floor however, you could see Lib Dems everywhere. And there too was a difference between Lib Dem conferences of yesteryear and this one – the emerging gap between the coalition leadership and the curious membership. The Lib Dem leadership have long been sat just slightly askew from its members but party conference was the confluence where party machine and party membership met to decide on policy. And decide they did rejecting the leadership’s attempts to defend what I regard as the Tories’ indefensible free schools policy.

I sat in on that debate (and it was great to see debate like that at a party conference by the way), and two things struck me that for me symbolise the key learnings from this conference (besides the array of Gieves and Hawkes suits afore mentioned). These two things are a growing nervousness in the ranks about what their leaders are committing themselves to in government with the Conservatives and a paralysis about the true extent of the cuts both on their popularity in the polls and on the people I genuinely believe most Lib Dems are trying to fight for.

Let me deal with the nervousness. For me, this was embodied in the conference’s response to Clegg’s speech. Sure there was nothing technically wrong with his speech. It had a beginning, a middle and an end, some jokes and a splashing of Lib Dem tub-thumping. But an empathy with the concerns of ordinary Lib Dem delegates was missing. I, like many of the Lib Dems I spoke to after, was expecting to see a connection between the new Deputy PM and the membership, a reassurance that the excesses of Cameron and his Eton chums was being moderated by sound, sensible and equitable Lib Dem influence, a real justification for coalition and not just a defence of unhelpful parliamentary mathematics. I was disappointed. There was nothing wrong with Clegg’s speech, but for me, there was nothing to suggest Clegg’s camp had taken the temperature of the party and had tweaked their words accordingly. Lesson to learn here: there’s a gap between the members and the leaders and this will only grow come October 20th.

October 20th? The Spending Review. There was so much wood that it was hard to see the trees when it came to cuts. Cuts is just a word and it was said so often it was losing its potency and meaning. The devastating impact on the public services was only skirted around. There’s a big juggernaut coming down the Lib Dem road and I’m not sure many of them will step out of the road in time.

The stout defence of the pupil premium, an admirable and positive policy – helping the poorest – was something that was brought up time and time again as evidence of Lib Dem influence in action. What no Lib Dem could either tell me or probably tell themselves was whether this extra cash was before or after the double digit cuts in the education budget. “So the pupil premium is code for ‘slightly less cuts to that child’s education spending?” I asked one Lib Dem. Blank face. And I don’t blame them. The sheer cluelessness nature of what is about to happen was written across this conference.

Whether the cuts and the pain will be worth it is something for the historians to reflect on in the future. How will this conference be remembered? Average to good from my point of view. It wasn’t the Lib Dem conferences I used to like going to, and it wasn’t the display of determination and vision you would expect of a party that has spent 80 years warming the opposition benches who are now finally in power. It was a party conference of nervousness and uncertainty. Does that mean it was a bad conference? Probably not. But it wasn’t the rally that many would have hoped for and it didn’t contain much that Labour needs to worry about next week in Manchester.