WESTMINSTER’S GAMBLING HABIT
What I know…
Political betting is rife at Westminster.
It’s a world I knew nothing about until I became a so-called Lobby journalist – one of a small number of political reporters based inside the Houses of Parliament. I remember the moment I found out about this very niche sport. It was 2006; I had just joined the London Evening Standard as a junior political reporter; and there was a Budget coming up. Bookies were offering a number of markets: for example, how many times the Chancellor would mention a particular word (it was Gordon Brown, so “prudence” probably featured); whether a certain tax would be cut; and how long the speech would be. Various Lobby journalists were placing bets based on inside information from Treasury Special Advisers.
Questionable as this sounds, while the information was good, it was far from reliable. In this case, a number of journalists had been tipped off that Brown would speak for just over or just under an hour (I can’t recall which). Perhaps the Chancellor had practised reading his speech, and that’s how long it took when he delivered in front of the mirror; maybe his aides had written it with a view to it taking a very specific length of time to deliver. Either way, a certain special adviser told one or more senior figures in the Lobby what to expect – and a bunch of people logged into their William Hill or Ladbrokes accounts and placed bets accordingly.
I was too new to the job to have an online betting account, which takes some setting up. However, I recall being struck by how easy it seemed to be for people in the know to make a few hundred quid. It was my introduction to what I quickly discovered is a very popular game at Westminster – though relative to other betting markets, the sums of money involved are very modest.
In recent days, the unedifying spectacle of politicians, advisers and their associates using their privileged positions to cash in has prompted widespread accusations of “insider trading”. The more individuals are caught up in the scandal, the stronger the whiff of corruption grows. Voters could be forgiven for thinking politicians are all at it – and making off like bandits with their returns.
The truth is rather less shocking than it appears. A lot of politicians, journalists and political aides do place bets – but they generally only make or lose a few quid, and do it for kicks. In the vast majority of cases, they are betting on outcomes they cannot control – so while bets may be well informed, they cannot be guaranteed to succeed.
Taking the length of a Budget speech as an example, it may very well be designed to be delivered in just under an hour, but any number of things can affect the clock. As Theresa May knows all too well, coughing fits can take ages. Then there are hecklers and other unexpected interruptions, some of which may require time consuming interventions by the Speaker. Furthermore, Chancellors can, and often do, deviate somewhat from their script, especially if they are being barracked by the Opposition. All this means that such a bet is never a dead cert – even if the tip has come from a very well placed insider.
When it comes to the legitimacy or otherwise of bets by politicians or their associates on the timing of a general election, much depends on precisely when the money was staked and by whom. Earlier this week Scottish Secretary Alister Jack admitted to placing several such bets over a period of months. It sounds as if he did so long before he could possibly have known when it would take place, which is why, in two cases, he says he lost his money.
In truth, only one man knew for sure when the announcement would be made, and that was Sunak himself. However long the prime minister had been planning it (not long at all) he could easily have changed his mind right up until the last minute. I am not sure about the constitutional position once he’d informed the King, but suspect that even then, with a good enough excuse, and the electorate still in the dark, he could have backed out. (In 2007, Gordon Brown famously called off a planned snap election within hours of the scheduled announcement.)
Within this context, insiders who placed what they have described as a “flutter” on the July announcement and are now being investigated by the Gambling Commission may well argue that while these were educated bets, they were not safe bets.
Before this scandal, I wasn’t aware of the practice of election candidates betting on themselves. I’m as shocked as others that anyone on the ballot paper would think it legitimate to “short” themselves. It raises the spectre of candidates who have bet against themselves setting out to kibosh their own campaigns (which is very easily done) in order to secure pay outs from bets.
By contrast, I am not sure it’s unreasonable for contenders to back themselves to succeed. However hard they campaign, they cannot be sure they will win.
The question is why any candidate would take the risk. Importantly, political betting is not like gambling on the horses, the football, or even the dogs. Potential winnings just aren’t that big. Bookies know most political bets are well informed, and they don’t like losing, so they cap the amount that can be staked. In my limited experience, placing more than a few quid is only possible by jumping through a lot of hoops. In other words, the vast majority of political bets really are just flutters, by people who just enjoy the game. Most relate to highly unpredictable events, such as identity of the next Conservative or Labour leader; or the precise number of seats a political party will lose or gain. Personally, I don’t think there is anything wrong with a punt on such things.
All that said, by their own admission, a number of those caught up in the ongoing scandal have shown appalling judgement. They may not have made a King’s ransom or broken any rules, still less committed a crime, but what they did looks and sounds dodgy.
Right now, it’s the court of public opinion that matters. It is a fair bet that the judgement of the electorate will be harsh.