Where are the women in Scottish political journalism?
IT gives me little pleasure to report that in the space of a year, the issue of women in political journalism has not just stagnated, but arguably got worse.
Last year on International Women’s Day, I wrote about my annoying habit of counting the number of male and female journalists at events I cover. I track the Scottish political lobby as if they were a herd of buffalo.
On multiple occasions, I have found myself the only woman in the room. On the last day of term before Christmas break, there were a staggering 15 men in the Holyrood gallery for First Minister’s Questions – and me.
There are times at post-FMQs briefings with press officers that I’ve looked around the committee room and realised if I had decided not to go, as I sometimes do, it would have been all male journalists.
There is only one occasion that I have been surrounded by all female journalists, and that was at the SNP’s regional assembly in Dumfries in the summer.
During the huddle there with First Minister Humza Yousaf, all three print reporters were female, as were the three broadcasters. While this was heartening, days later in Glasgow with Yousaf again, I was in a huddle with six men and one other female journalist.
There is little consistency, and it’s evident that the issues are structural and just not being tackled.
I sometimes wonder why I’ve taken it upon myself to be the one monitoring this issue – I’ll admit noting down the gender breakdown in the margins of my notepad has become a recurring habit.
I’m not the only one who has campaigned on the issue, as the Equal Media and Culture Centre for Scotland at Engender (EMCC) has done a fantastic job of investigating who holds the power in our media landscape.
Project manager Dr Miranda Barty-Taylor tells me that the onus has to be put on the media industry to monitor itself and diversity if we hope to achieve “real change”.
“What gets monitored, gets managed,” she said. “Establishing the practice of measuring progress against appropriate, self-set targets is a vital step in their commitment to addressing inequality.”
In the space of 12 months, I’ve seen numerous capable female print journalists leave to go on to jobs in broadcasting or leave the industry completely. At the same time, I’ve seen male colleagues moving from one office to another in the lobby corridor, the annual musical chairs of political journalism jobs I’ve borne witness to on more than one occasion.
In August last year, I covered a damning report by the EMCC that showed among many creative industries the lack of women in leadership roles in our media.
Of the four female political editors they identified, this equated to just 20% of the available jobs at that level.
And since then, two of those four women have moved on to other positions.
As Barty-Taylor points out, attempting to collect data on the issue can go “out of date almost as it is printed”.
Our industry has also seen jobs cut, meaning the number of political positions available for journalists to specialise in is shrinking. Again, I have not even breached the issues of class, race or disability.
I could fill a whole column of the issues I’ve faced being a pregnant reporter this term, but instead, you can read my Baby Box review (see page 27).
Barty-Taylor added: “We urgently need more women, and more diverse voices generally, in Scottish political journalism, particularly in print.
“Doing so not only increases women’s visibility in a traditionally male-coded area of media, but diversifies the kinds of topics and narratives featured in political journalism in Scotland.
“Ultimately, ensuring a greater diversity of writers enriches the overall quality of democratic participation and discourse in Scottish politics.”
Having to take a step back as I log off for maternity leave, I can’t help but feel guilty that there will be one less woman around to hold politicians to account and mix up the kind of questions being put to those in power.
But newspaper editors and those in positions of power in our media industry are the ones who have to answer for this lack of diversity. All I can do is to continue to shout about it.
THE author of the best-selling novel The Fair Botanists looks pretty darned happy. Having known Sara Sheridan for many years, she rarely looks otherwise: “I’m not good at being sad. I’m certainly not good at sustaining sadness in my writing.”
I can vouch for that. Whatever the situation, the writer, former perfume-maker and equality activist exudes calm, radiant optimism. It’s what you’d expect from someone included in the Saltire Society’s 365 most influential Scottish women – past and present.
Today she has an extra reason to smile. Sheridan’s book – set in early 19th-century Edinburgh and centred on the city’s Botanic Garden – became an instant bestseller in 2021 and was named Waterstones Scottish Book of the Year in 2022. Now The Fair Botanists is set to become a TV series – with rumours Elaine C Smith will play one of its feisty leads.
That’s just another new departure for a writer proving as versatile as her historical characters. Her latest novel (her 18th), The Secrets Of Blythswood Square, released last month, went into the UK hardback chart at number 35 in its publication week. Meanwhile, Sheridan is currently reworking an earlier book, The Ice Maiden, to create a ballet with choreographer and producer Debbie Norris;
‘It’s set in the Antarctic, part of it on the Discovery, so we’re excited to maybe premiere the ballet in Dundee,” Sheridan says.
As well as this, there’s a piece commissioned by the Edinburgh International Book Festival about its new site in the Old Royal Infirmary, and a Radio Four play (to be broadcast this summer), Robert Burns, His Psychotherapy And Cure.
This is a new take on the life of the bard, set in modern-day Glasgow.
It’s a phenomenal work rate – and comes amid a house move from Sheridan’s native Edinburgh to Glasgow city centre along with Greenock-born husband Al and wee dog Dotty last year. But Sheridan takes bold steps lightly – including the decision to publicly back independence even as her profile across the UK is steadily rising.
“I’m out for Yes. I’m sure there are some people who will think twice about booking me because
I back independence, but then there are others who will relish it. For me, 2014 was about the sudden realisation that we can run Scotland ourselves so much better. But getting independence over the line takes confidence, and to me, that’s why boosting cultural identity is so important.’
Yet much as they both love Scotland, there was a time when the couple considered living elsewhere. “We did consider leaving after Brexit,” Sheridan says. “Coming from a Jewish background, on my mother’s side, these have been scary times as politics veers to the right.
Her contribution to the Yes movement is reclaiming that non-conformist past and presenting Scotland’s history as diverse, active, argumentative
So, one of my thoughts was we need a backdoor – an escape route. But I have a giant, white Scottish husband who is absolutely 100% built on the Clyde. And I looked at him and thought, if he’s not scared, I’m not f**king going to be scared.
“I’m developing a voice and an understanding of being Scottish that’s growing all the time. So, we decided to stay. I want to be here to make the case for independence.”
So how does historical fiction boost confidence and reset attitudes within Scotland today? It’s a subtle process. The Fair Botanists centres on a real event when the trees, plants, flowers, aloes and cacti of the Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh were painstakingly moved from their former home at Leith Walk to its current site at Inverleith.
The two main characters are women, drawn to the garden – and each other – when a rare plant looks set to flower as King George IV visits Edinburgh, escorted by the author Sir Walter Scott. But dinnae be fooled by that – Sheridan is no royalist. “I’m a republican nationalist. And you know, George IV was terrible.
“I think even if you’re a royalist, he did the monarchy no favours. So, my portrayal of his visit is gently subversive. I think my London-based editor didn’t realise quite how subversive it was going to be when she bought the book.”
Indeed, the relegation of royalty to a spoiled, seasick, gurning, petulant also-ran serves to accentuate the dignity and centrality of the real players: local people and Edinburgh itself.
According to critic Joyce McMillan, Sheridan has created “a genuine if imperfect city of enlightenment, a thrilling, optimistic and romantic landscape where science flourishes, beauty is created, wrongs are righted, possibilities are infinite, and women can begin to