By Sam Macrory - 26th July 2010
As Europe minister during the run-up to the European elections, I wasn’t invited to attend a single cabinet to discuss Europe, so I think the fact that I got on with my job and saw it through is to my credit. I thought it was a bit of a joke when I wa
Caroline Flint
Caroline Flint has few regrets about her time in government, but was one of several women ministers to feel marginalised in the last cabinet, and hopes the rules of the political game may yet change to play to women’s strengths.
I don’t come from a political family or the professional classes, and nor am I the stereotype of what a politician should be. I don’t think my life is colourful and racy, as the press sometimes portray it. Some of the things I have been though, like growing up in a lone parent family,having a marriage that didn’t work out, and raising two children from that marriage, are what lots of people go through, but it doesn’t fit in to some neat box that is often expected in politics.
My childhood was a mixture of being happy and, for some periods, not that easy. My mother had me when she was 17, and she had a lot of struggles. Part of what got me into politics was the thought that life shouldn’t be that hard and sometimes people needed more support. My mother was supportive, in her own way, as were my grandparents.
They were publicans, and I spent the first few years of my life toddling around the bar. Years later, when my grandparents had long gone, I got a job in the same pub. Some of the people on the bar stools remembered me – I was a bit worried they had never left. We lived in private rented accommodation and council housing, but during both my O-levels and A-levels I lived away from home, on my own, coping with living in lodgings and studying at the same time. I loved school. I did ballet, and was in the girl guides – those things that you would expect in lots of families. I had some very supportive teachers, and when I went to a further education college I joined the Labour club and the Labour Party.
I realised that if I could get to university then I could start taking control of my life. On one level my family thought it was quite self-indulgent. They were getting on with the realities of life. My brother and sister both left school at 16 and went straight to work, and I realised, at university, the big difference between the haves and havenots.
I realised how different our lives were. I was involved with Labour students, and when I left university I became national women’s officer. After that, I worked for the Greater London Council – Ken Livingstone was myboss – and the Inner London Education Authority. Being a single mother was tough, and getting back into work, after my daughter was born, wasn’t easy. At the first proper job I had, for the NUS, I had to take my daughter with me to work.
Combining work with raising a family is something I feel is very important. In my teenage years and early 20s I was in awe of anyone who was an MP. I was a grassroots activist, but as I got to see more politicians I began to think that I could do as good a job as them. With the support of family and friends I began to think I could put my hat in the ring after the 1992 election.
Winning Don Valley in 1997 was a big task, but I was upfront and found things I could relate to with families. I was extremely proud to win. I knew some people in Parliament, but it seemed huge and I felt pretty disorientated. I don’t think I’ll ever know all the rules of this place, and I’m not sure I want to.
The 1997 female intake set off a debate about more women in Parliament. We also started a debate about women’s representation, while discussions around things like the national minimum wage, part time workers, and family-friendly policies were suddenly seen as mainstream. On things like domestic violence, health and breast cancer, we have made huge strides, and I don’t think we would have done that without the input of those women MPs.
We have to recognise that at the top of organisations there are male networks that exist that are quite hard for women to break into. In certain areas men are still dominating and that leads to a self-fulfilling prophecy.
We have seen a lot of men who have been special advisers become MPs, then ministers and, as we know, now leadership candidates. Rather than blame women for not being there, we should question how power works and how, at senior levels, women are excluded. I was PPS to Peter Hain and John Reid. They taught me a lot, and were very supportive, and there was a really great team when I was a Home Office minister.
In different ways I enjoyed all the positions I held, but in terms of job satisfaction and getting something done, the two years I spent in the Home Office and the two I spent at public health – at the most junior level – were the most satisfying.
The day before I quit the government I was canvassing in Doncaster. I was asked by Number 10 to go out and give support to the prime minister, which I did, because I wasn’t intending to resign. The next day I was somewhat surprised that the conversation began with questions about my loyalty, rather than thanking me for my loyalty. I don’t know where that question came from.
I have never got involved in briefings to the press and I don’t believe in unattributed quotes. When you are in a job which requires your full focus and attention, you want to know that you are doing it without the manager thinking he can’t trust you. That was the message which came across, and that was when I asked myself whether I was sure if I should continue working for the prime minister.
Politics and promotion is pretty arbitrary. I had no illusions about that, but I was pleased to go of my own choosing. Talk of plots and conspiracies was over-egged. Nobody can say that there was anything organised, and people were leaving for all sorts of reasons. It was a difficult situation, but we are now hearing from people very close to Gordon Brown that he wouldn’t listen. That’s coming from his close associates. There weren’t inclusive working relationships to get the best out of us.
In hindsight we should have had a proper election when Tony Blair went. I talked about window-dressing because under Gordon Brown we saw the introduction of people attending cabinet but not being full secretaries of state, and then people attending cabinet only when their portfolio was being discussed. An overwhelming number of women were in those secondary roles. As Europe minister during the run-up to the European elections, I wasn’t invited to attend a single cabinet to discuss Europe, so I think the fact that I got on with my job and saw it through is to my credit. I thought it was a bit of a joke when I was asked to stay on but could now attend cabinet.
There was a presentation about women’s representation, but we weren’t equal and there was a pecking order. I thought the Observer Woman piece on me was very good and I don’t regret doing it. As with all these things, it was then taken out of context. Unfortunately in politics, people can turn pretty innocent things into something which can be perceived as negative.
I spent the first 18 years of my party membership with the Labour Party in opposition, and it’s amazing how you draw on the strength you had to find in that period. But I have never believed the minority in my party who say it is better to be perfect in opposition.
The leadership candidates do have similar backgrounds, but that doesn’t take away from their talents and skills. It does, however, pose the question of why we haven’t had a more diverse group of candidates coming forward. I’m supporting David Miliband. He isn’t just someone who will say things to keep our party happy. Instead he will be happy to knock it into shape. I think I’ll put my name up for the shadow cabinet. We’re all getting out the rule book to see how it works.
I relax by being away from Westminster. I go back to Doncaster, and I walk my dog or go to the cinema. I’m pretty good at chilling out, and I’m not attached to the mobile phone all the time. I don’t know what I’ll be doing in ten years, but when I stop enjoying politics I will depart from the stage. It’s not always easy, and sometimes the successes are few and far between, but changing policy or getting a victory for a constituent makes it all worth doing.
This article first appeared in The House Magazine.
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