Seòmar agus comataidhean

As the pressure of Labour austerity and inflation continues to attack funding for our public services, and as the increase in employer national insurance continues to bite, ever more will probably fall to be delivered by the third sector—our charities—yet they, too, fall foul of that employer national insurance hike. Does the cabinet secretary agree that charities should be exempt from that job tax, and that it should be fully funded if they are not exempt?

On a point of order, Deputy Presiding Officer. I am locked out of both of my devices. I would have voted no.

On a point of order, Presiding Officer. I would have voted yes but I am unable to connect.

On a point of order, Presiding Officer. I am in a similar position, because my app is still not connecting. I would have voted yes.

[Made a request to intervene.]

Will the member take an intervention?

I hope that the member will make the distinction—I am sure that he will—between illegal immigration and asylum seeking. Sometimes, those become conflated, and that is a very wrong perception.

The phrase “taking back control” is provocative. It is the language and policy of Sir Keir Starmer, but it comes straight from the Boris-Trump-Farage playbook.

Let me start with the following facts. Brexit has had a substantial impact on the mobility of employment in this country and, as others have said, it has particularly hit the hospitality, horticulture and care sectors and—I say this to Michael Marra—the construction industry. Brexit brickies. Polish plumbers.

The majority of migrants are here legally. The sad high-profile images of desperate people crossing the Channel in flimsy dinghies represent a small portion of migration to the UK.

Scotland has an increasingly ageing population. In the health debate yesterday, I advised that, currently, over 1 million people are over the age of 65, and that is predicted to rise to 1.4 million by 2040. That is 25 per cent of the population. In addition, the birth rate is falling. The ramifications are that we are short of people in necessary workforces, particularly in our health and care services, and that the tax take is reducing, which impacts on the delivery of public services, not simply through the workforce but in terms of revenue and funding.

Asylum seekers are trapped for long months and even years in the UK system and they are not permitted to work and contribute to the economy. Rural areas feel the brunt because of the nature of the employment there, which often involves farming, fishing and hospitality. It is abundantly clear that Scotland, unlike the overheated and pressurised south of England—I do have sympathy, given the pressures on public services there—needs a tailored migration system.

The Scottish Government proposed a rural visa pilot scheme for Scottish remote and rural areas, which was jointly led by the Cabinet Secretary for Rural Affairs, Land Reform and Islands and the Cabinet Secretary for Health and Social Care. It set out a practical and robust approach to delivering a pilot scheme between the UK Government, the Scottish Government, local authorities, employers and communities. Participating employers, in collaboration with Scottish Government and UK Government organisations, would have been responsible for ensuring that the scheme’s terms and conditions continued to be met. After four years, restrictions would have lifted and migrants would have been free to work anywhere in the UK outside their community pilot area.

In 2019, the UK Migration Advisory Committee, giving evidence to a committee in this Parliament, accepted that

“the current migration system is not very effective in dealing with the particular problems remote communities experience.”

What happened to the rural visa pilot scheme? It was blocked and binned by Sir Keir Starmer because he is desperate to keep tight reins on devolution, saying, “Keep and know your place,” and he is trying to keep Reform UK at bay. That is some message from him. He should remember that, at the election, Labour got only 33 per cent of the vote on a turnout of under 60 per cent. He hardly speaks for the UK, let alone for Scotland. “An island of strangers”—perhaps it is for Sir Keir Starmer, but not in Scotland and not in our name.

Oh! You have caught me on the hop, Presiding Officer—not for the first time.

“What on earth is the Scottish Law Commission?” I hear you ask—or perhaps not. I say that even knowing that commissioners and staff are in the public gallery. Is that a brave or a foolhardy move? I leave that to the jury.

As for Michael Clancy, we go back a long way, especially as I twice convened the Justice Committee—I will leave it at that; my lips are sealed.

Quietly and effectively in the background, understated to the point of invisibility—that is a compliment—the Scottish Law Commission recommends reforms to improve, simplify and update the law of Scotland. It constantly keeps its eye open to the development of the law and ensures that it keeps pace with changes in the way that we live and work.

Outdated or unnecessarily complex law makes for injustice and inefficiency and leads to law being out of step—or even being bad law—instead of fulfilling the needs of ordinary people. That is bang on.

The Scottish Law Commission offers the Scottish Government independent—I stress the word “independent”—advice on law reform. Public consultation is an essential step in the process to ensure that the recommendations are workable and acceptable. For example, as we have heard, the Scottish Parliament has passed legislation to implement the commission’s recommendations on the abolition of feudal tenure of land and on the protection of the rights and interests of adults who are incapable of managing their own affairs.

The commission has issued reports over many decades, such as the report in 2000 on real burdens. In 2010, the commission established links with the Malawi Law Commission, and, in 2020, it conducted a review of cohabitation law. In addition, the commission ran a social media campaign entitled, “60 bills for 60 years”—I do not know whether it deliberately made sure that it had one for every year, but that is how it has worked out.

The Scottish Law Commission must be distinguished from the Law Society of Scotland, the professional body for more than 13,000 Scottish solicitors, which was established in 1949. It aims to be

“a world-class professional body, understanding and serving the needs of its members and the public.”

I took that straight from the society’s website, so I am not making any comment about it.

The Scottish Law Commission is completely different from that. Quietly working off stage, in the wings, out of the spotlight of political dramas, the commission is invaluable in seeking out solutions to changing legal requirements, casting its collective beady eye over Scottish Government-proposed changes in the law or, indeed, suggesting changes that the Government ought to be considering—or not considering, as the case may be.

Politicians are often in too much of a hurry, driven by tabloid headlines and public clamour—of course, I exclude myself from that; my deliberations are measured. In contrast, the Scottish Law Commission, with its expertise, takes its time. Although it is ultimately the politicians who decide what form laws are to take, it is wise for the Scottish Government and, indeed, the United Kingdom Government to pay heed to the Scottish Law Commission’s comments.

On its 60th anniversary, I hope that I have helped to publicise the real, in-depth significance of the Scottish Law Commission to Scotland’s everyday life. I hope that I have also made it sound a wee bit sexy.

To ask the Scottish Government what support it will provide to businesses to redevelop and use former mills and other disused buildings, in order to support regeneration and economic development. (S6O-04773)