Tradition, good and bad, persists in much of public life, even today.
It’s around the royal family, of course, in pretty much everything they do, with all the bowing and scraping before them. But, why paint stones before their visit? Does it matter if there is dust, or even a bird dropping, on the path leading up to the HQ where they are doing an unveiling or whatever?
Like a town crier, a prime minister who decides to go to the country is still expected, whatever the weather, to stand at a podium in Downing Street and make the proclamation there. Should they have to?
Outgoing prime ministers could simply post a notice on Facebook, or X. The government already does that for other matters. Oh, no, they like their traditions because they think we all like our traditions – and, you know, I suppose we do.
In Scotland, of course, we have the tradition of naming children after deceased members of the family. That’s why I had to change mine. I just didn’t like the name Grandpa.
The bitterness between two well-known Scottish football teams is a stinky tradition. Other countries are completely baffled. It’s not easy to explain Scotland’s internal hatred.
I remember being in a wine bar in Paris many years ago, and trying to explain to a convivial group, imbued with the spirit of the Entente Cordiale, why the Old Firm was not a nasty rumour to embarrass Scots, but a horrible tradition that still exists. How they mocked us for that. They had a phrase for Scottish numpties. I’ve forgotten it. It was a long night.
And it will be many a long night and many a long day before we get decent, reliable ferry services to the Western Isles. The uncaring governments of Scotland let the service from Caledonian MacBrayne, which they own, slide into abject decline.
Still, at least the high head yins at CalMac are working hard on a recovery strategy, and listening to people affected by their monstrous lack of care. Are they heck? The current board of CalMac is a hopeless shower of detached individuals who cannot even be bothered to come to the islands and see the effect of their disengagement and cack-handed decisions.
A freedom of information request by someone who suspected they’re merely a bunch of hands-off quangoteers who don’t listen to islanders’ pleas has shown how phenomenally unsuited they are to the roles they take so much public money and perks for.
Sorry for the tirade, but my blood boils when I read that the traditionally-dependable ferry company has been forced to confirm only one of its directors has been near the outer isles. Is that not evidence these absentee board members are disengaged and don’t care about the ferry service, the islands, or the people who live in them?
If they cared, they would be here regularly. Why have they not been chosen for their knowledge of the isles they serve? Not one islander is on that dodgy board, despite protests. Before it becomes a tradition, that must change.
Roll on 2026 for real change
It’s time for change, as has been too often mouthed willy-nilly from all sides in the last few weeks. The board of CalMac need to resign en masse now, before they are unceremoniously booted out. Make way for someone who gives a fig.
The SNP-controlled government of Scotland fell asleep at the wheel, with a string of uncaring transport ministers with no commitment to sorting out the top of CalMac. These ministers’ bland, unhelpful responses to questions in the last few years were a symptom of the illness that will soon sweep them from power.
Labour voices are increasingly saying the fiasco cannot be fixed while the incompetents are in charge. Roll on 2026.
It is easy to fall into bad and pointless traditions without question. For instance, take the wee girl from Barvas who asked her mother why she always snipped the end of the sausages before putting them in the pan. The mother said: “I suppose it is a Barvas tradition. That’s just how my mother, your granny, taught me. You can ask her.”
So, the young girl went to see her grandmother and asked her the same question. The granny said: “Well, it’s just how my mother always did it. That was the tradition. Why? Ask her.”
So, the wee girl went along to the care home in Stornoway, and asked her great-granny why she snipped the end of the sausages before putting them in the pan. The sprightly 85-year-old sat up angrily and said: “Oh, for goodness sake, don’t tell me they are still using that small frying pan.”
Iain Maciver is a former broadcaster and news reporter from the Outer Hebrides
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