Tributes: Lord Mackay of Clashfern

Lord True Excerpts

Thursday 9th July 2026 Lords Chamber

[The Lord Privy Seal (Baroness Smith of Basildon) (Lab)]

My Lords, it is with a profound sense of sadness, shared across the House, that I pay tribute today to one of the truly monumental figures of our nation’s legal and parliamentary heritage. The news of the passing of the noble and learned Lord, Lord Mackay of Clashfern, shortly before his 100th birthday, is deeply felt by us all.

James Mackay was a man of towering intellect, yet he was defined equally by his quiet humility, his deep faith, an unwavering commitment to public service and great generosity of spirit. Born the son of a railway signalman in Edinburgh, his journey to the highest legal offices of state is a testament to his extraordinary talent, rising to become dean of the Faculty of Advocates before serving with distinction as Lord Advocate. His deep grounding in Scottish law brought a rigorous, analytical clarity to everything he did—a perspective that enriched the entire jurisprudence of the United Kingdom.

In 1987, Margaret Thatcher broke with centuries of tradition by appointing a Scottish lawyer as Lord Chancellor of Great Britain. For a decade, serving in both the Margaret Thatcher and John Major Governments, Lord Mackay occupied the Woolsack with a quiet, revolutionary authority. He was an historic, modernising Lord Chancellor. He shepherded the Children Act 1989 through this House and on to the statute book. It was a piece of legislation that radically reshaped family law, firmly establishing that a child’s welfare is the courts’ paramount consideration. That has stood the test of time.

Although Lord Mackay never sought conflict, he was never afraid of controversy, if he believed it served the public good. He introduced pioneering reforms to the legal profession that expanded access to justice for millions. Yet for all his grand achievements on the national stage, he retained that gentle humanity and his characteristic warmth and friendliness. Whether it was a word in passing in the corridors of your Lordships’ House or pulling up a chair for lunch in the Long Room, you would welcome his company. Like many others, I would listen in admiration, and often awe, when he spoke in the Chamber or in Committee. He would speak without notes, always making insightful and pertinent comments, perfectly crafted—and delightfully concise.

When Lord Mackay retired from this House in July 2022, after more than four decades of dedicated service, it said so much about his character that he did not use his final remarks to dwell solely on the great offices of state or the complex legislation he had championed. Instead, he drew our attention to the Prayers that begin our proceedings each day, stating:

“I believe that I have been sustained until now by answers to what we pray for at our opening every day”.—[Official Report, 20/7/22; col. 1984.]


That was the essence of James Mackay. He possessed a mind capable of mastering the most intricate complexities of constitutional law, with a heart that saw, valued and respected every individual who contributed to the life of Parliament.

Lord Mackay was a giant of the law, a faithful servant of the Crown and a deeply cherished Member of this House. We send our deepest, most heartfelt condolences to his family—his wife Bett and his son and daughters—his friends, his colleagues and all those who knew and loved him. He will be sorely missed.

[Lord True (Con)]

My Lords, I thank the Lord Privy Seal for her warm tribute to our late beloved friend and colleague, Lord Mackay of Clashfern. When I say “our” beloved colleague, I mean all of us—all here who knew him and heard him for over 40 years as a Member of this House. I can think of few, if any, Peers who were so sincerely liked and admired on all sides as was James Mackay.

The noble Baroness set out some of his extraordinary achievements: dean of the Faculty of Advocates, Lord Advocate, a Scottish Law Lord, Lord of Appeal in Ordinary, Lord Chancellor for 10 years, a Knight of the Thistle and latterly honoured by his Queen as Lord Clerk Register of Scotland. Never were such a string of great garlands laid on the brow of a more humble man—not only humble in origin, though he was that, but a man of abiding humility, as our Leader said. Pomposity and pride were utterly alien to him, in the being or seeing of them.

The core of Lord Mackay’s life was the Bible and that higher power on which he long and regularly reflected. He observed the Lord’s day. When I was new in No. 10, I remember Switch explaining to me not only that you should not ring the Lord Chancellor on a Sunday but that you could not—the line would stay dead. His deep Christian faith moulded a bedrock of principle. As our Leader said, he never sought conflict, but he did not flinch from difficulties if the cause was just. As she said, as the first member of the Scottish Bar ever to sit on the Woolsack he set out to break restrictive practices in the law and open access to justice to more people. It did not make him popular, but he saw it through. Among his many legislative achievements were not only the Children Act, to which the noble Baroness rightly referred, but the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Act, which brought clarity—like the Children Act—in difficult fields of morality and law.

Lord Mackay never intended to be a lawyer. He had the rare distinction of first class degrees in maths from both Edinburgh and Cambridge, where he was the senior wrangler—which was an achievement—and he taught maths before reading for the Bar. This was testament to the extraordinary clarity and precision of James Mackay’s mind, and his unerring ability to discern the truth of arguments and determine solutions: the very essence of a good judge. Yet how lightly he carried his great wisdom and learning, always expressed in the simplest language, spoken softly, as the noble Baroness said, and with the most beguiling humour. He had unimpeachable integrity and a fierce independence of mind which, perhaps, was his highland character. He graced that great office of Lord Chancellor, speaking truth and justice to power in the Cabinet, defending the rule of law and presiding in this House.

Lord Mackay was a kindly man, generous in his advice to others, courteous to a fault, with a twinkle in his eye and a quizzical air that made you feel, perhaps, that he was puzzled that others could not see the solutions as swiftly as he did. After he went to the Back Benches, he used to sit on the second row, behind the Minister. When you were at the Dispatch Box and you saw by your shoulder that hand creeping over the back of the Bench to haul himself to his feet, you knew you were in for either the most testing challenge to your arguments from one of your friends, or else the most simple and compelling exposition of the case that you had been floundering for an hour to try to explain to the House.

James Mackay was a great parliamentarian, a lover of this place and loved by it. Let us remember our brother as a righteous man. He was never judgmental, but nor was he afraid to judge between good and evil. He was a great reformer and a loving family man, buoyed for 68 years by his remarkable wife and three children, to whom our prayers and sympathy go out. This polity, this House, this United Kingdom will never see the like of Lord Chancellor Mackay again.