John Swinney interview: Backroom boy who pulls the purse strings

Published on Friday 14 November 2008 08:51

THERE is never anything unexpected about John Swinney. No matter how much you wish he'd suddenly lose his cool in Kevin Keegan style and admit that he just "loved it" when Alex Salmond received the blame for the SNP's recent by-election defeat, or that he'd throw caution to the wind and restyle his hair, or get his ear pierced, arrive on a unicycle even . . . he remains the archetypal accountant.

Grey suit, receding hair, glasses, measured tones. He reeks of decency, unflappability, the ability to keep his head while all around him are losing theirs. And even those who may take opposition to his politics admit that those are the qualities you want in the person who is in charge of much of Scotland's finances.

Not all the cash, of course, no matter how much he'd like that to be the case. But it would seem that right now 44-year-old Swinney – who wears his politics on his sleeve literally with his Saltire cufflinks – is delighted just to be where he is.

"When I joined the SNP in 1979 the party was literally finished and the constitutional question had disappeared off the table. The idea that within 20 years there would be a Scottish Parliament and that within 30 I would be sitting here as a senior government minister . . . well no-one would have predicted that. It is pretty special, as in all honesty I never expected to be doing this job."

The job is one of the largest and most intimidating in the Scottish Parliament. He is cabinet secretary for finance and sustainable growth, a remit that gives him responsibility for the economy, trade and investment, local government, setting the Scottish budget, cities and community planning, energy, tourism, the land use planning system, climate change, and transport policy and delivery, to name just a few of the issues that take up his time.

Of course, banking regulation is one thing that doesn't crop up in his brief, so has he felt slightly impotent during the current furore surrounding two of Scotland's banking institutions, HBoS and RBS? "The UK Government has been presiding over the situation that's got us to where we are, and it has to provide the solution. But there are implications for Scotland, worries about the future of employment in terms of HBoS and its status, but also the wider message about Scotland's financial services sector, which is a fundamental strength of the Scottish economy, and we want to make sure it retains its significance as such.

"The First Minister and I have been working on this for some weeks. We've met with Lloyds TSB and we continue that dialogue, pressing for security of employment and retention of decision-making within Scotland."

So seriously does he take the current status of Scotland's banks that he seems averse to making too much political capital out of the situation

"In relation to (Sir George] Matthewson and (Sir Peter] Burt, (who have suggested they take over HBoS and it remains a distinct banking entity in Edinburgh], quite clearly we've set out that we'll discuss any proposition, and we're giving their plan consideration."

As far as some banks' continued largesse, though – RBS allegedly spent 300,000 on a knees-up for 70 staff – he says: "The banks have got to watch their decisions and conduct at this particular time. One of the issues that really troubles me is the importance of making sure that, having spent such a large amount of public money on supporting the banks, they understand they have to make a contribution to strengthening the economy.

"There are companies that are working well, but what might finish them is the ability to maintain the same level of overdraft, yet banks are reducing overdrafts and increasing interest rates for borrowing. There's a role for banks to play in helping business."

While he may only be able to "engage" with the banks, Swinney has other pressing matters at hand, namely the introduction of the controversial local income tax (LIT) and the row over the council tax freeze, which local authorities are now blaming for being unable to meet staff pay rises and Government demands to reduce class sizes.

He admits that LIT is not going to have an easy ride in Parliament, but adds: "We've secured two Parliamentary votes in favour of abolishing the council tax and support that Scotland should still receive the 400 million council tax benefit payments from the Treasury – after all it's Scotland's taxpayers' money. That's under our belt. We've had a consultation on the details, and a number of questions have been raised about the applicability of LIT in terms of students, about taxing those with investment income, about some degree of local flexibility . . . these are questions that I'm considering just now as to what approach we should take."

The fear about LIT in Edinburgh is that, given the number of high earners the city boasts – at the moment – it could end up subsidising poorer parts of the country, as the Scottish Government would claw back money from its grant.

Swinney is adamant this wouldn't happen. "I've made it clear that no local authority will lose out through its financial settlement from the Scottish Government as a consequence of LIT."

And as to Edinburgh's demands for a special "capital city allowance" – which it puts at 30m – he is sympathetic. "I think the new Edinburgh council inherited a pretty poor financial situation from its predecessors, and it has to deal with that. But it has made its submission and we're looking at that in the light of the work we're doing for the budget in January next year." So how much is he likely to give? He smiles. "I can't say at present."

What he will say is that claims that councils can't afford pay rises for staff are nothing to do with the settlement he gave them. "The council tax freeze that was agreed was over-funded by the government. We gave 70m to ensure councils could freeze it, but if we had allocated the actual amount needed to do so, it would only have been 58m, so there was a real benefit to councils last year."

With so much going on, you might imagine Swinney finds little time to see his wife, BBC reporter Elizabeth Quigley. The pair married in 2003 and live in Blairgowrie, but last year she revealed she had multiple sclerosis. "Oh, I see her all right," he laughs. "She's doing great. I am full of admiration for the way she is dealing with all the challenges she faces. I'm not sure I would be able to do the same." His job is challenge enough. "It suits me down to the ground. I'm loving it. I have reflected before that leadership wasn't exactly what I was meant for. The role I have now is very significant within the Government."

His role has been described as "backroom", but it is hardly surprising that he avoids the limelight, given his treatment when he led his party from 2000 to 2004. He took the reins after Alex Salmond quit Holyrood for Westminster, apparently because of the negative coverage the Nationalists were receiving, believing a "softer image" would help.

Swinney is certainly not in the Salmond mould, and while he reformed his party and ultimately made it electable, he has had to sit back and watch his predecessor return, lead it to power and seemingly be able to do no wrong.

So there surely must have been some mild pleasure when Salmond was blamed for the party's defeat in Glenrothes earlier this month? For an instant there's a steely glint in his eye, the kind of look that immediately defies the notion that he's all Mr Nice Guy. Then it disappears. "No-one wants the SNP to be successful more than me, and for Alex Salmond to be successful as First Minister," he says.

"It's a huge pleasure and privilege for me to be able to support him in what he is doing. I think how he handled Friday (the day after the election) is a measure of the type of person he is. He wasn't shirking from things. That's what Scotland has enjoyed about his leadership. Obviously we would have liked to have won, but we increased our share of the vote and delivered a significant swing."

But doesn't he feel that his party, his leader, were maybe too arrogant in their belief they would win? "It's a strange campaign that says 'we're going to be second'," he says. "Of course, you're going to campaign in the belief you'll win. I don't think I heard anyone in the SNP say that it was in the bag.

"We gave it our best shot and it wasn't enough. We've got to say that we didn't get it right, and Alex Salmond has done what he always does: lead from the front."

And at his back will be John Swinney.

A LIFE IN POLITICS

BORN in 1964, John Swinney is the son of a garage manager and a medical receptionist, and grew up in Carrick Knowe, attending Forrester High – he was one of the few pupils at that time to go to university.

He was just 15 when he became a Nationalist, joining the SNP in the wake of the failed 1979 devolution referendum.

He went on to study politics at Edinburgh, and his business experience began with Scottish Amicable as a business consultant and strategic planner. He continued to be involved in politics, though, becoming the SNP's youngest national secretary at the age of 22 and then being elected as MP for North Tayside in 1997. Within two years, he had won the seat in the Scottish Parliament and within three years he was SNP leader.

His first marriage ended in divorce, although he remains close to the two children from that marriage and in 2003 he married Elizabeth Quigley, a BBC reporter.