Size matters as Star Wars unexpectedly appears in the oasis of civility

Imuch prefer the Lords to the Commons. Admittedly the amount of coughing does at times make it feel like the world’s most luxurious GP waiting room, and the energy levels can at best be described as sleepy. Compared with the splenetic jeering from the other chamber, however, it’s an oasis of civility.

Still, you can have too much of a good thing, and yesterday peers debated proposals to cut their number. At present there are 150 more peers than MPS, and the Government is reportedly planning to cram in a coachload more.

“When legislatures around the world are listed by size,” noted Lord Selkirk of Douglas apologetically, “we come second only to the National People’s Congress of China.”

No fewer than 96 peers put their names down to speak – which perhaps illustrated His Lordship’s point all too well. A report by the Lord Speaker’s committee had proposed a limit of 600 peers, with each of them to serve no more than 15 years.

“The House,” said Baroness D’souza, “does need refreshing from time to time.” (It would of course be entirely unfair to suggest that her audience perked up at this. “House needs refreshing? What a capital idea. Double G & T, please.”)

Lord Steel of Aikwood – formerly known as David Steel, leader of the Liberals 1976-88 – wanted a clear-out of all peers over the age of 80. “The argument against it is, ‘Oh, you can’t do that because you would lose Nigel Lawson’,” he scoffed. “To which I say, ‘Well, so what?’”

Lord Steel, it so happens, is 79. “You would also lose David Steel,” he went on, “and that might be a very good thing!” Sadly Lord Lawson wasn’t present, but doubtless he would have concurred.

Lord Howard of Rising, however, argued that there was no need to cut the number of peers. The public didn’t care how many of them there were, he said – and anyway, “90 per cent of the time, the chamber is 90 per cent empty”.

Hmm. That sounded like an argument for cutting most of them.

Labour’s Baroness Crawley, who’d helped draw up the report, urged the chamber to endorse its “sensible” recommendations. “Christmas is coming, my Lords,” she trilled, “and our best present to ourselves would be – no, not BB-8 from The Last Jedi – but overwhelming support for the document in front of us.” I was a bit puzzled by the Star Wars reference, and, from their frowns of bemusement, I sensed that one or two of the older peers were, too. “Jedi? Who’s this Jedi chap?” “You remember, old boy – Lord Skywalker of Tatooine. Drippy-looking sort of fellow.”

“Ah yes. Lib Dem, wasn’t he.”

“I was at Eton with his father, Lord Vader. Terrible asthma, poor chap. Hell of a temper, though.

“Got the most frightful thrashing for Force-choking his fag.”