Kenneth Roy
The hospitality register
On the 26th of November last year, the chief executive of NHS Greater Glasgow and Clyde wrote to St Margaret of Scotland Hospice announcing the withdrawal of funding for its continuing care beds. What did Mr Calderwood – for that is his name – do for the rest of the day? I have not the faintest idea. But I do know what he did in the evening. He went through to Edinburgh for a St Andrew's Night 'black tie dinner' at the Castle.
The reason I know it was 'black tie' is that Mr Calderwood has registered the fact. For this grand occasion (no doubt), the company providing the hospitality for the man from the health board was BT.
You may have noted that the 26th of November was not St Andrew's Day. I have decided to ignore this oddity in the interests of gastronomic convenience.
Two nights earlier, the 24th of November, Mr Calderwood attended the Chancellor's Dinner in Bute Hall, Glasgow – again 'black tie'.
A few days ago, I received an email from someone claiming that the University of Glasgow was in a bad way financially, amalgamating departments, letting fine brains go, the whole dreary scenario. I am gratified to learn that this is only a nasty rumour. Since, as recently as 24 November 2009, they paid for Mr Calderwood's dinner, things may not be as bad as widely supposed.
On the 20th of November, Mr Calderwood fetched the most popular item in his wardrobe – it might make sense to keep it in the office for whipping on and off as the exigencies of the occasion demand – for yet another 'black tie dinner', this one at the Glynnhill Hotel. The organisation providing the hospitality on this occasion was 'Paisley Medical' (who they?).
On the 15th of November, the annual inductees dinner of the Scottish Football Association Hall of Fame was held at the Glasgow Hilton Hotel before a company including Mr Calderwood, courtesy of PricewaterhouseCoopers, who also paid for the dinner of Mr Griffin, the board's director of finance.
On the 13th of the month, Mr Calderwood attended a 'fundraising sporting lunch' at the Glasgow Hilton Hotel, hospitality provided by the Prince and Princess of Wales Hospice – no, not the hospice getting the chop; another one. Whatever happens at a sporting lunch? Could it be that a coin is tossed before the off, someone runs round the room bearing a torch, and there is a bit of a scrum at the buffet table? Presumably anyone not laughing at the speaker's jokes is sent off.
The night before, the 12th of November, the inexhaustible health boss attended the 'Yorkhill Black Tie Dinner' courtesy of the Yorkhill Children's Foundation – venue unstated; and the night before that, the 11th of November, an award ceremony dinner at the Corn Exchange, Edinburgh, where he was the guest of the Scottish Health Awards 2009.
We are done with November, you will be relieved to hear.
On the 28th of October – no, no, I insist on going on – Mr Calderwood attended a 'dinner to mark the opening of new premises at Chardon D'or'. This Glasgow restaurant is described by that unimpeachable source, its own website, as 'the perfect venue for special occasions and business functions alike'. The testimonial of Anne Donaldson, head of marketing for PricewaterhouseCoopers, is included on the home page: 'Thank you,' she enthuses, 'for helping us to pull off a fantastic and truly memorable event.' It is not clear to which event she alludes.
On the 28th of October, the hospitality of Mr Calderwood was provided by none other than our old friends, PricewaterhouseCoopers.
It cannot be emphasised strongly enough that there is nothing in the least improper about Mr Calderwood's acceptance of any of this hospitality. Indeed, he has been admirably transparent about it all. Many public servants accept hospitality and, as long as it is within reasonable bounds and declared in a register of hospitality (which Mr Calderwood's was), it is perfectly allowable. Nor is there any suggestion that Mr Calderwood was other than scrupulously professional in his handling of the decision to withdraw funding from St Margaret of Scotland Hospice.
Nevertheless, I have a slight problem with the hospitality he received. It is not simply my puritanical conviction that a man earning £170,000 a year should pay for his own dinners. The essential problem is more subtle. It is one of perception.
On the 13th of November – the day of the sporting lunch at the Hilton – the outcome of the Glasgow north-east by-election was determined. For the second year in succession, a Glasgow by-election had drawn national attention to the appalling health and social conditions of a significant minority – perhaps a majority – of the people of the city. Regular readers will remember our discovery of the near-derelict block of flats in which an elderly couple had been marooned; we found Mrs Daly recovering from a stroke, to which the stress of her wretched plight may have contributed.
Proper and allowable as the hospitality provided to the chief executive of NHS Greater Glasgow and Clyde undoubtedly was, what did it say to Mr and Mrs Daly as they struggled for life in these inexcusable circumstances? What did it say to all the people of a constituency in which the incidence of death from lung cancer is 94% higher than the national average, of heart disease 40% higher, of unemployment 140% higher? And what, for that matter, did it say to the people caring for the dying at St Margaret of Scotland Hospice and earning a fraction of what Mr Calderwood is paid? What did it say to the dying themselves? It is not a question of what is proper and allowable. It is a question of what feels right to the wider community served by Greater Glasgow and Clyde Health Board.
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