CURSE OF FORCE’S POISONED CHALICE
AYEAR ago, he was making plans for his retirement after a police career lasting a quarter of a century that had taken him almost to the top of the service. Yesterday Iain Livingstone was revealed as Scotland’s next Chief Constable – following a tumultuous 11 months as interim leader of the crisisstricken single force.
In September last year, Mr Livingstone cancelled his exit strategy in the early stages of the most damaging political row to hit Police Scotland in the first five years of its chaotic existence.
His then boss Phil Gormley was facing a slew of bullying allegations and had stepped aside on ‘special leave’, creating a power vacuum at a critical time.
Mr Gormley had been spearheading a controversial drive to axe officers as part of the controversial ‘Policing 2026’ reforms – a blueprint now inherited by Mr Livingstone.
A highly divisive figure, Mr Gormley’s management style caused shockwaves and resulted in a series of gross misconduct probes by the Police Investigations and Review Commissioner.
His deputy Mr Livingstone – who had applied unsuccessfully for the force’s top job in 2015 – was persuaded to stay on while his boss’s fate was decided.
Earlier this year, the saga took an astonishing twist when Mr Gormley’s lawyer threatened to sue the Scottish Government over claims it had intervened to block his return to work.
When he later quit, saying it was ‘impossible for me to resume my duties in a meaningful way’, Mr Livingstone was widely regarded as the frontrunner to become his permanent replacement.
Deft networking had helped him to build political alliances, and he enjoyed the confidence of the then justice secretary Michael Matheson – who would later lose his job in the fallout from ‘Gormleygate’.
HE also had the support of Susan Deacon, who took charge of the beleaguered Scottish Police Authority (SPA) after its former chairman, Andrew Flanagan, quit last year – following allegations he bullied a board member and ran the SPA like the Kremlin.
Perhaps just as importantly, much of the rank-and-file were rooting for Mr Livingstone after years of turmoil: the first chief, Sir Stephen House, stepped down after a thinly veiled public attack by Nicola Sturgeon, who said no chief constable should be a ‘law unto themselves’.
The Scottish Police Federation (SPF) had voiced reservations about former Norfolk Constabulary chief constable Mr Gormley’s career having been ‘forged south of the Border’.
His wife Claire told the Mail that it was ‘very easy to attack the outsider’, as ‘Phil doesn’t have a Scottish accent, he was born in Surrey, not Stirling’. By contrast, Mr Livingstone had spent most of his career in Scotland, and the former footballer and lawyer was seen as a leader the frontline could trust.
Senior colleagues knew he was more clubbable than Mr Gormley and more knowledgeable about the many challenges the force now faces.
With such widespread backing, the path to his promotion should have been relatively straightforward – despite his repeated insistence that he had not made up his mind whether or not to apply for the chief’s job.
But on April 30, his career progression was thrown into doubt by a BBC Scotland TV documentary – A Force in Crisis – in which Mr Livingstone was confronted with deeply uncomfortable allegations about his past.
As a young superintendent, back in 2000, he admitted he had ‘fallen asleep in the wrong place’ after drinking too much.
The details were well-known within policing circles but were always certain to come under fresh scrutiny as he vied for control of the force.
The incident had led to his temporary demotion but, on appeal, he was reinstated.
From that point, those closest to Mr Livingstone say he underwent a radical change.
He focused successfully on rebuilding his career and rose to become second-in-command.
After the BBC documentary aired, one MSP said anonymously that ‘it raises more questions about what happened and his fitness for his current role’, while Angela Wilson, ex-assistant chief constable at Police Scotland, said she believed the allegation should disqualify Mr Livingstone from leading the force.
BUT he was to be saved by a groundswell of support from allies, who said it was unjust to judge him by mistakes for which he had already paid, after nearly 20 years of unblemished service.
This helped to ensure that when the top job, with a salary of nearly £217,000, was formally advertised early this summer, Mr Livingstone was the frontrunner, with only two other candidates emerging to compete against him.
But he resisted immediately throwing his hat into the ring, telling the Mail: ‘The demands have been – and will be – enormous, so I think it’s only appropriate that before I say anything publicly, quite genuinely I make sure that my wife and all my family are fully behind that.’
In reality, his friends believe there was relatively little doubt that he would apply.
Yet given the track record of his predecessors and the state of near-constant crisis in which the single force exists, the new chief may find himself pining for the retirement he has shunned – for a job many see as the public sector’s ultimate ‘poisoned chalice’.