Sir Chris Smith is currently advising Shadow Culture Secretary Thangam Devonaire ahead of the next election.Tomos Alynn Davis (Varsity)
It’s not often you get the chance to interview a former Cabinet minister who can pull a book off the shelf. Gay Icon And instinctively I turn to his photo. Sir Chris Smith is not at all fazed by having his picture taken and we are back downstairs before the tea gets cold.
Pembroke College’s Master’s Lodge overlooks the bowling alley, where students are enjoying the nice weather. Before starting our interview, we sit on the grass for lunch and then notice a caterpillar crawling up our leg. Smith quickly hands us a coffee table book (Oscar Wilde, no less) and whisks the caterpillar away. “I always love when the weather’s nice enough for students to sit around the bowling alley,” he says. “It’s just wonderful to look out on.” I doubt the view has changed much since he was an undergraduate at Pembroke; we’re still craving a little sunshine.
The view from and rooms within the Master’s Lodge are symbolic of Smith’s life as a student, politician and now Master. Smith told me this room holds his political books; his art books are upstairs and his literature is in the study. Within the four walls of the Lodge, all the elements of Smith’s life are present, separate yet constantly interacting with each other.
“Poetry and literature were my hinterland.”
So which room shall we visit first? In honour of my adopted caterpillar, I will talk to Mr. Smith, a former Environment Agency Secretary, about his greenery. “I wrote the party’s green policy document. It was called Trust for Tomorrow,” he says, proudly of its catchy title. “And we did it.” If only it were still that simple, now that the current Labour Party has backed away from its promise to invest £28 billion in greenery. When I ask about this, he says deftly: “I wish they hadn’t done that. I can kind of see why: they’re afraid to say anything that would hint at spending money.” The dreaded 2010 memo left in the Treasury office, “No more money,” still haunts the Labour Party 14 years on. “But there’s a lot you can do towards a green agenda that doesn’t necessarily involve spending money,” he reminds me.
As if we were visiting in another room, Smith continues to explain Labour’s plans for investment in arts and culture. He is currently advising Shadow Culture Secretary Thangam Devonaire ahead of the next election. “She has an immense advantage in taking on the role of Minister of State,” he tells me. “She used to be a professional cellist.” If only all cabinet ministers had such qualifications. “Together we are looking at ways in which we can improve, make cultural work more accessible and strengthen it,” he elaborates. “But we don’t just assume that we need more money to do that.”
Smith’s pragmatism and experience certainly come in handy in the fight for funding, as does his approach to the cutthroat world of politics. He tells me about the importance of having a “hinterland” – “something Labour’s former deputy leader Denis Healey used to say” – meaning “something outside of politics that MPs are absorbed in and involved in”. For Debonair, it was music, he says, and for her adviser, “poetry and literature was the hinterland”. I take this as a formal excuse for spending as much time writing poems and articles as essays.
“Despite the importance of the arts, funding is once again drying up.”
Despite the importance of the arts, funding is once again running short, with the government recently announcing further cuts to the higher education budget for arts degrees. For Smith, the solution lies much earlier. “Why can’t we guarantee every student in every school in the country the opportunity for a special cultural experience every year?” he explains passionately. “Whether it’s going to a museum, seeing a play or learning how to play an instrument, it doesn’t cost a fortune,” he explains. The future depends on kids who want to star in films or direct plays being able to continue their education beyond secondary school.
That’s hard to consider when the climate crisis, disappearing funding, and reactionary attacks on LGBTQ+ rights dominate the news. The message I got strongly from Smith was that change can still only happen “baby steps.” Despite past laws like Section 28 and the current echoes of that rhetoric, Smith remains committed to gradualism. “Success doesn’t come in a straight line.”
After hearing his anecdotes about life in parliament, the one that stuck with me the most was when “Nicholas Winterton, a very unorthodox Conservative member,” who supported Article 28, was speaking. The member rose to argue with Smith, but acknowledged that “Parliament has learned to listen to members with respect.” As he explained, Winterton “could no longer speak in very generalized terms about LGBT people because sitting in front of him was one of the people he was talking to.” Smith’s presence “showed that we’ve made some progress.” As LGBTQ+ members enter the House of Commons, draft environmental bills, and protect the arts, there is change brought about by people like Smith.
