Who else features on Call Me Dave’s list of contacts?

Former PM David Cameron is at the centre of a row over lobbying. Alison Rowat looks at the business of exercising influence and the hazards that are lying in wait

HOW to have a Sunday politics show when politics has been placed on pause? That was the conundrum faced by broadcasters yesterday, day three of the blanket coverage of the Duke of Edinburgh’s passing, and they reacted in different ways.

Sky News’ Ridge on Sunday called the whole thing off and ran news coverage instead; The Andrew Marr Show came at the royal story from another angle, with guests including former prime minister John Major and Joanna Lumley, both of whom had worked with the prince; while BBC Scotland’s The Sunday Show opted for part Philip, part Covid.

Had this been any other Sunday, the main story would have been the furore surrounding David Cameron.

It has emerged that the former Conservative Prime Minister lobbied government on behalf of Greensill Capital, a privately owned financial services company belonging to Australian banker Lex Greensill. The aim? To get access to taxpayer-backed loans and government contracts.

It was not the first time the two men had worked together. Mr Greensill was an unpaid adviser, complete with a desk in Downing Street and a set of business cards, when Mr Cameron was Prime Minister.

Fast forward to 2019 and the roles are reversed. Mr Cameron is working for Greensill. Included in his remuneration package were share options that might have earned him tens of millions of pounds had his lobbying efforts succeeded. In the event, the firm collapsed, placing 55,000 jobs, 5,000 in the UK, in jeopardy.

Last week saw the release of text messages from Rishi Sunak to Mr Cameron, with the Chancellor stating that he had “pushed” Treasury officials to see if there was scope to help Greensill under the loans scheme.

Yesterday, the Sunday Times, which has led reporting on the story, revealed that England’s Health Secretary, Matt Hancock, had a “private drink” with his former Commons colleague and Mr Greensill.

Two other ministers were contacted by Mr Cameron. In all cases, ministers have let it be known they steered Mr Cameron towards official channels.

Mr Cameron finally broke his silence last night, saying there were important lessons to be learnt and accepting that “communications with government need to be done through only the most formal of channels, so there can be no room for misinterpretation”.

There has long been a murk hanging over politics and the lobbying industry. The rules would have you believe there is a wall between the two and strict orders governing who can pass through and when.

In reality, it is more like a well-oiled revolving door, with politicians and former civil servants passing in and out with ease, taking their expertise and inside knowledge with them, most never attracting any attention.

The Cameron case raises the particular problem of what to do about leaders and other prominent politicians once their parties and the electorate have shown them the door. If they are not of retirement age, it would seem harsh to prevent them from earning a living using the skills they have.

Mr Cameron, having left university and gone straight into a job with the Conservative Research Department, has known no other profession than politician. He went from adviser to MP to leader to PM. Moreover, when he left Downing Street he was still only 49 with a young family to support.

Though his dealings with ministers and officials may be embarrassing – pushiness and a sense of entitlement burn through his communications – he has not broken any rules.

But there is the way things are and the way things look. It does not look good for a former PM to be appearing to jump the queue, to be gaining special access to ministers.

Then there is the proper use of resources. Mr Cameron was texting and emailing while the pandemic was at its height, a time when civil servants could have been doing something more useful than answering his queries.

Other prominent politicians have managed a successful transition to Civvy Street without scandal. On leaving office there is the option of the inevitable memoirs, followed by charitable works that keep the person in the public eye.

Chairmanships can be pursued discreetly, lucrative lecture work undertaken, and other talents pushed to the fore. This week, for example, former Tory leader William Hague starts a new gig as a columnist for the Times. Given his fee for a speech is reportedly £25,000, he will not be scribbling for minimum wage.

The Cameron row will renew arguments for greater transparency in lobbying. We only know as much as we do because of newspaper investigations and the Chancellor’s decision to publish his text messages. Will there be more ministers revealed to be on Call Me Dave’s contact list?

There is another concern here. Mr Cameron’s lobbying for Greensill played out as the pandemic began. Those were strange, fraught, hectic times. Consider the billions spent in a hurry as shortages became clear. The Government was snowed under with appeals for help.

While Greensill’s unsuitable bid failed to get through, how many others succeeded? How much taxpayers’ cash was squandered? For Boris Johnson and his administration this could be just the start of a wider procurement and lobbying scandal.

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