The Institution of High Tea

The Houses of Parliament are just so quintessentially English. Sitting there on the Thames, in all that newly cleaned sandstone and dolled up with little windows, never ending wings, annexes and halls, it is dominated one end by Big Ben, making sure we all keep to time. This is no fuddy-duddy tourist attraction; it's alive, breathing order into our society and keeping a rhythm to our democracy.

Earlier this week I had the privilege of being invited to Tea there and to sit in and watch Questions in the actual chamber of the House of Lords. Despite its imposing façade, the corridors of power have a familiar, friendly feel to them. There's everything here from the echoing empty halls of a very large school assembly hall to rows of doors leading to little meeting rooms. I rather felt like Alice falling down the rabbit hole.

The first part of my afternoon was to sit and watch the Questions in the House of Lords, for which my host, a life peer, had very kindly arranged a ticket to sit "below the bar", so at eye height to the proceedings. I have often listened to Today in Parliament admittedly when I couldn’t sleep and needed something to nod off to. However, live is just so much better. For a start, the House was full and it wasn't even a day of contentious questions. Unlike Questions in the Other Place, Questions in the Lords is so civilised, witty and wise. Shuffling into their outsized red padded benches, it was clear that these Peers took their roles seriously and their life lightly. I just loved it, and hope that this will be the first of many times that I am blessed to sit and listen to such august and honourable deliberations in the most outstanding setting with far-reaching impact.

The first topic up was about the new Titan prisons. I longed to ask a question: “this report is about the structural building of prisons, but what about the content? What plans are there to educate and change the lives of those who are there at Her Majesty’s Pleasure?” Let’s hope that these prison designers are building spaces where yoga and meditation can be taught, and where their guests have the opportunity to build their self-esteem and create a future for themselves in a way which is beneficial for society as a whole.

The second theme was about unsolicited mail when Baroness Trumpington had us all rolling with laughter. The ease with which our peers of the realm are able to be so elegantly wise is deeply inspiring. It was all rather homely.

What struck me most was that these Peers, regardless of where they sat in the House, all shared the DNA of service and noblesse oblige. They understood how with privilege comes responsibility to serve the country. The House of Lords holds the strategic vision - they are there for life, without an election process - and stands for what is right. Occasionally, as recently when they thwarted the bill on holding suspects for 42 days without charge, they balance out the excesses of the House of Commons.

As I looked around the grandeur and opulence of the setting, dripping in gold and heraldic emblems, what struck me most was that there was a lot of white hair around. This was the cauldron of probably a collective millennium or two of experience in which to stew all that intellect and knowledge to bring together a wise body. I quietly mused to myself how the age profile was probably the inverse of most of our large institutions and companies - in the bank in which I worked during last recession, many of those being asked to make major strategic decisions had barely been out of primary school in the previous downturn.

The life in these old birds appears in general to be their desire to leave this country, not their own pockets, a better place when they depart this mortal coil. I felt that they would not hold onto ideas past their sell-by dates, yet also would not yield them easily without having the firm understanding that it was an improvement. Somehow I felt remarkably reassured, and a feeling of trust in this collective wealth. Not financial, not land, not material, but visionary tradition: far from being an outmoded structure what I saw implied a tradition, tried and tested over generations and generations, to check and balance the ship of state as we sail on our merry way through this21st century and beyond. Yes, there has been reform in who is eligible to join, but the ethos and heartbeat of this noble, grand old lady remains.

Next I adjourned to the serious business of the day: Tea with my host in the House of Lords Tea Room. Lacking the ornate gold of the House, this dark wood panelled room more than made up for it in its stalwart upholding of probably our greatest British tradition. Led to a central table for two, we were seated (yes, the delightful waiters have impeccable manners too) and offered the simple choice "Indian or Earl Grey". That was easy. I then chose the Toasted Tea Cakes with a little pot of strawberry jam, while my host had Anchovy Toast. I noticed that the table to my left, set for four, had pre-booked a huge spread of proper sandwiches, cut in equilateral triangles (and I'm prepared to put money on some of them being Shipman's Paste) and a three tier cake stand which oozed with gentrified slabs of fruit cake and its ilk. It simply doesn't get more English than this, unfettered by the stuffy pomposity which characterises imposters of this relaxed formality.

It was all so thoroughly delightful. The mood of the room retained that guffawing gentility of the House, even as serious issues were being discussed, only its more cosy. Acoustically it is obviously designed to prevent any earwigging of conversations and prevent inappropriate leaks. The only comment I did hear from the table to my right was "do have a cup of Tea, dear".

And we, what did we discuss? The value of selfless public service, working for a living, how to stay calm in a crisis, and having a purpose to get up for each morning.