Scottish politics isn’t necessarily as bitter and divided as it seems

I have a confession to make. It’s not something I’m proud of, because who would be, but it is something you should know.

I am English. I understand it’s a shock, especially if you’ve somehow missed our video content, award-winning podcast and my appearances on whichever broadcaster will have me.

A saltire flag and Union Jack flutter in the wind. Picture: Jeff J Mitchell/Getty Images

It means, nearly five years ago, I came to Scottish politics with things to learn. I was an experienced journalist in Westminster, but had not lived the Scottish experience.

I merely adopted Scotland, I wasn’t born in it. Moulded in it. As such, aside from my extensive reading as a dedicated student of the game, my expectations were it would not be like any other patch. The views on both sides of the independence debate were too entrenched, the vitriol felt was too strong, the wounds were too deep.

Now, as I walk off into what I hope is a sunset, I can tell you I was wrong.

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Scottish politics isn’t nearly as bitter and divided as it can seem at times, especially online. Working in Westminster, I see the loudest and most vocal critics of each side having a beer together in Parliament.

I listen to SNP MPs talking about trips they've been on with Tories, and the funny experiences they won’t share publicly ‘til they leave Parliament. Following issues that go beyond the debate of the day, I witness Labour working with the SNP, and hear of rivals having a regular snooker game.

Alexander Brown has been here since Boris Johnson was Prime Minister | Getty Images

More importantly, they’re just nice. It’s nowhere near as tribal as you think.

I’ve routinely been called a Sturgeonista (despite my accent) or a Tory stooge online and, while I’m grateful for balance, it’s also not representative of what politics is.

These people don’t hate each other. They aren’t arguing with each other in comment sections. Sometimes the outrage is simply manufactured, playing to the gallery encouraging people to lose their minds, shortly before going for tea in the Parliament canteen.

I’d add that given how biased everyone feels the media is, we sure do spend a lot of our time speaking to all the different parties.

In short, Scottish politics, despite the myth of Scottish exceptionalism, is not that dissimilar to politics in the rest of the UK. Sure, there’s an independence debate, but the main issues facing the country are the NHS, education, the green transition, access to rural services.

Other than the ferries’ farce, it’s basically the same. Now you can argue that independence could fix those, but it’s still the same problems as down here. That’s not an argument for unionism, just a reminder that what happens in Westminster really does matter. To paraphrase one of the few successful, albeit accidental separatists, we’re all in this together.

My other main takeaway is that despite these shared values, successive UK administrations have still been a bit scared of Scotland. No prime minister has done a sit-down. Ministers avoid doing huddles in case they’re caught out. You deserve better and it’s appalling this has not changed since I started.

This is all a long-winded way of saying I’m leaving The Scotsman, but my love of Scotland is going nowhere.

We’ve been through an awful lot together - Boris Johnson, Rishi Sunak, Liz Truss. The independence thermometer, The Full English. The iPad scandal, the dug-up garden. It’s been a privilege, and given the choice, I’d relish doing it all over again.