National Life: Shared Values and Public Policy Priorities

Baroness Bertin Excerpts

Friday 2nd December 2016 Lords Chamber

[Baroness Bertin (Con) (Maiden Speech)]

My Lords, I do not come from noble stock; indeed, I am rather proud of the fact that I have no political pedigree. I was born in Croydon to a Geordie mother and a French father. My journey to Westminster happened by complete chance, but I learned from a young age that if you get a spot of luck you hold on to its coat-tails and do not let go.

I cut my teeth on a trading floor in the City but spent the majority of my career at the coal face of Westminster politics. My most recent role was the Prime Minister’s director of external relations. Prior to that, I spent seven years as his press secretary and praetorian guard with the media. Unusually, I emerged from this role still committed to a free and unbending press—although I have to admit that there were times when I looked to China with a certain degree of envy. What is more, I am grateful to those journalists—many of whom are now friends—for giving me the best training ahead of motherhood. Interrupted nights; tantrums; unreasonable behaviour: being a mother is a breeze in comparison.

I will always be fiercely loyal to my old boss. He was not a self-serving politician; he always did what he thought was best for the country and he was brave and honourable. I thank the doorkeepers and the parliamentary staff who have been so patient and kind with me. I also owe a great deal to my supporting Peers, my noble friends Lord Strathclyde and Lord Grade. To have these two impressive powerhouses introducing me was an honour I shall never forget. To stand and serve alongside greats on both sides of this House is sobering and a responsibility I do not take lightly, particularly as the baby of the House. Indeed, I must have looked so serious as I walked down the corridor to the Chamber on my first day that my noble friend Lord Strathclyde whispered in my ear and said, “My dear, you are being introduced to the House of Lords, not being led to the scaffold. Do try and smile”.

I thank the most reverend Primate the Archbishop of Canterbury for calling such an important and timely debate. We live in turbulent times, when so many things that we thought were certain are not necessarily so. It has, therefore, never been more important to ensure that shared values are properly sewn into the fabric of our public policy. Politics and values should go hand in hand. One without the other is like a body without a soul. These values must be relevant and tangible, rather than abstract and outdated, demonstrating that we politicians understand the challenges faced by people in their day-to-day lives. Without this, there is a danger that the weakening connection between the perceived political elite and the electorate may become even more frayed.

I will focus briefly on some of the values that will be dear to all in this House: compassion, kindness and a desire to look after the most vulnerable in society. To lose our compassion would be to lose our guiding light. A benchmark of a civilised society is how we care for the most vulnerable and, equally, how cared for they themselves feel. It should give us all pause for serious thought that such high numbers of teenagers are committing suicide and our elderly are feeling lonelier than ever.

In the context of this debate on values and public policy, I will touch on the subject of young people with learning disabilities and their sometimes precarious journey into adult life. My own little brother suffered from severe cerebral palsy and I sit on the board of a wonderful charity called KIDS which does so much work in this area. So I know a little about the challenges and difficulties disability can pose—but also the joy and goodness such adversity can bring out in people. Sadly, my brother died one month after his 12th birthday, but I remember being riven with worry, alongside my parents, about what a good adult life would look like for Marc.

Thankfully, we have come a long way since then, but we are only in the foothills of where we might like to be. For example, just under 6% of adults with a learning disability are in work. I recently visited Rosa Monckton’s brilliant social enterprise that offers training for some of these young people. This kind of scheme, rolled out further and wider, is what success might look like, and I will follow the Government’s consultation in this area closely. If we are really serious about closing the disability employment gap, we need to continue thinking creatively, so we can bring all of society with us.

I will give a simple example. If a coffee shop employs a young man with cerebral palsy there is a chance that the coffee may take a little longer to prepare. I would like to think that we could get to a place as a society where most people would not see this as being an unacceptable wait. Instead, we would be more understanding and tolerant. Indeed, we might even see it as an opportunity to slow down for a moment and reflect. Of course, employers must play their part, but if we are ever to really reduce the stigma and the gap we all must take responsibility to think and act differently.

I am genuinely excited to be able to make a contribution to the deliberations of this great institution. But I am also alive to the fact that you cannot change society by simply changing laws. Getting people with learning disabilities into the workforce does not need to be patronising or engineered. It can be productive and hugely beneficial to society as a whole—the very embodiment of shared values shaping public policy for the common good. We are beginning to move in the right direction but the cultural shift cannot happen fast enough.