We are a Godfather. In the Thatcher sense, not the twin sense. Lara has had a wee lassie, and I’ve been given the honour.
A lot of folk wouldn’t trust me with a Babysham, never mind a baby, but my responsibility has been spelt out, and it’s one I’ll take seriously.
“Neil", said Lara. “You must do one thing. Make sure that Isabel never becomes an architect.”
I’m not an expert on parenting, but I would say at 3 weeks it’s a bit early to restrict a young person’s career options. But Lara is deadly serious.
Apparently, Lara fell off her bicycle and suffered a serious head injury when she was fifteen. She made a full recovery, but she insists that when she went to see her career adviser, she could only remember that her chosen profession began with A-R-C-H….
She’d been issuing A.I.s for eight years before it struck her, in a moment of astonishing clarity, that her clarty fingernails and crush on Baldrick pointed to her true love.
I’ve told her to be positive about it – as an architect she’s laying foundations that in the future will be dug up by shambolic bearded men. Some of her buildings should be demolished ruins quite soon. But she’s stuck with the image of herself in a woolly jumper, sprachling about in a trench with a teaspoon, rather than administering JCT contracts.
I’ll do my best for Isabel (and make sure Lara doesn’t force her to become an archaeologist), but also point out that you don't have to plod down the one career path. I like the idea that you should give different jobs a go. If being a prawn fisherman plays havoc with your fingernails, try hairdressing.
I was actually explaining this philosophy to a guy called Colin in a club in Elgin last weekend, and using Ewan MacGregor’s brother as an example. Apparently, he had retired as a fighter pilot, had gone in to PR, but found it wasn’t for him. “I know", Colin said. “That’s me”.
Right enough, he did look a lot like Ewan MacGregor.
And my brother, Ali, is about to embark on a great journey that may lead him all the way to Bute House. From humble architect, to Prime minister of an independent Scotland.
Well, he’s the SNP candidate for Ross, Skye and Lochaber constituency, and has to overturn a 50% lead to Charlie Kennedy, the most loved man in the Highlands.
But he’s got ambition.
I was out in the streets of Dingwall with Ali last weekend. We’ve been foot soldiers in the SNP since we were fifteen, but now he’s taken a promotion up the ranks, his uniform has changed, and his manner has been transformed.
While I wear jeans and a soup-dribbled jumper, and chase punters down the street hissing “take the leaflet”, Alasdair Stephen now wears a suit and tie, polished shoes and a pleasant smile. He looks people in the eye, is sincerely concerned, and doesn’t argue policy.
To be elected a politician you have to listen and be nice. The bombastic finger-jabbing bit comes later.
My only concern is that Ali is a born nyaff, and he has to hold back his natural tendency to be cheeky. But I have to say; he’s managing, and knows what the job entails. Being able to understand people's needs, present ideas, inspire those around you, and have a rhinocerous skin to rebound an onslaught of criticism.
All the things you learn as an architecture student. The collected bile of the British press has nothing on the devastating combination of Andy MacMillan and Izzi Mepstein, ripping apart your efforts and your ego at a crit. Gordon Brown wouldn’t have lasted two seconds.
So, architects’ skills are cross-transferable. And we need some architects in parliament.
Do you think if an architect were prime minister, we’d still be allowing depressing roundabout urban planning and Toytown banality to be built? If an architect were chancellor, would we have had the disastrous PPP schools and hospitals being designed and built at the expense of our children, the sick and the taxpayer?
Would we be chopping down the rainforest for bio-fuel, or allowing Tescoland to drain the life out of our historic town centres?
Well, maybe some architects would stick with the present system, but having the heart-thumping passion of a Malcolm Fraser, a Chris Stewart, or an Ali Stephen, enacting policy rather than trying to influence from the outside, makes sense to me.
Designers can do the "vision thing", and knit ideas together to help form a coherent society.
Designers can do the "vision thing", and knit ideas together to help form a coherent society.
Of course, there are dangers – an eco-fundamentalist architect leading a dictatorship could cry wolf and force us all in to straw bale houses. The Dettol-polished glass and steel world of Chairman Foster could inflict mass OCD.
But could we be worse than what's gone before?
But could we be worse than what's gone before?
“We are a grandmother”, said Margaret Thatcher. Well, we are architects, and it’s time we stopped doodling round the edges, and used our skills to make Scotland, and the world, a better place.
And I’ll promise not to bore Isabel with politics until she’s at least five (months).
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Here Here! Having met Ali and Neil, I agree that one of them is a nyaff and the other is a scruff. However, either would make brilliant politicians, they care about what they believe in and don't shy away from a discussion to save feelings. Best of luck Ali, David W