Fraser Nelson

Meanwhile, Alex Salmond's journey is going depressingly well. The SNP conference starts in Inverness on Thursday and a ComRes poll today suggests 39 per cent are in favour of independence, against 38 per cent against the idea. Not a freak: a poll last month by TNS-BMRB produced the same results. Hardly an overwhelming endorsement, but a reminder that the unionists are in trouble in Scotland. The Scottish Tories are in so much trouble that one leadership candidate is suggesting the party renames itself because its official title strikes so many as oxymoronic. For all his Scottish lineage, David Cameron leaves Scots cold – as the general election demonstrated.

It's official: Philip Hammond is the new Defence Secretary and it’s a wise choice. The tough work: making the cuts, axing Nimrod, leaving the east coast undefended etc.: has been done. I doubt Cameron would have been able to get that little lot past his party as easily had it not been done by Liam Fox. Now, the task is implementation. It requires mastery of detail and a sharp eye for financial irregularities, and Philip Hammond is the man for that. As Osborne's number two in Opposition, he will, like Des Browne, approach defence from the perspective of fiscal management. The future of Trident is less assured: Hammond will not threaten to quit over its abolition (as Fox quietly did in Opposition).

So, who paid for Adam Werritty's air miles? This is the question going around Westminster this afternoon. James blogged yesterday that No10 has set two tests: was Werritty being paid by defence companies, and did Fox know about it?   From what I understand, the answers to both are "no". Werritty was not paid by any defence company — or, indeed, any company at all. His funds were provided by individual donors, who do not have even a tangential interest in the defence industry. His job was to network and provide updates about politics in general. His donors are interested in affairs in the Gulf and the Middle East, about energy security and other such issues — so this involved going to a lot of conferences, and a lot of travel.

Liam Fox demonstrated today why he'll be staying in Cabinet. He's a tough, eloquent and effective Commons performer who does not fall to pieces when the going gets tough. George Osborne and Michael Gove were both on the front bench with him. One MP told me he saw Eric Pickles in the corridors, giving Fox a hug that almost killed him. All this reflects well on them: in politics, it's always worth noting who stands by colleagues, and who scarpers, when it hits the fan. Fox has, finally, made the two steps required to get on top of this scandal: an apology, and full disclosure to stop the drip, drip of allegations which was giving this story such lethal momentum.

The Liam Fox imbroglio has just started to make more sense. The original story was broken by The Guardian (of whom more later) and the main source appears to have been one Harvey Boulter, an American mogul whom Fox fatally agreed to meet in June at the suggestion of his friend Adam Werrity. It was the kind of meeting that a civil servant would never have arranged. Boulter was, to use a political term, toxic. He was being sued for blackmail by 3M, in a court case being fought in London, and after landing this meeting with the UK Defence Secretary he tried to use it as ammo.

Chris Huhne has fallen into the Twitter direct message trap. I've done it myself.* When you think you're privately messaging someone then — horror! — it is broadcast to the world. In his case "From someone else fine but I do not want my fingerprints on the story C'" He deleted the tweet but — sorry, Chris! — that doesn't work on Twitter either because you can be retweeted. What's he up to? As a former Sunday newspaper journalist I have a fair idea. It's Friday night, 6pm — witching hour for MPs briefing a Sunday hack, with the intention of damaging a colleague or the government. "From someone else, fine" might well indicate asking the journalist to suggest the leak or quote came from someone else — so he could then deny all knowledge.

The empty chairs for David Cameron’s speech said it all: the party conference is no longer a political event. This was my eleventh Tory conference, and, even in this short time, I’ve noticed a creeping corporate takeover.  The difference struck me yesterday, when I attended a packed fringe meeting in something called the ‘Freedom Zone’. It was set up to discuss banned topics: how to cut taxes, the case for a referendum on EU membership, etc. The crowd was younger, of a libertarian bent — all activists and enthusiasts of some kind, a refreshing change from the sanitised and often lifeless feel of the rest of the official conference.

Boris Johnson must be one of the very few politicians in the world to make the audience laugh before they even start their speech. Just by walking on stage, he has the effect of a good comedian: the punters start to smile, in anticipation of some good one-liners. In today’s case, Boris got a standing ovation before he opened his mouth. Here is the man judged by Ladbrokes as the most likely next Conservative leader, but he had not come to stir. The Prime Minister – who lavished praise on the Mayor last night – was in the hall. It was all Big Society (BoJo division): affordable housing and a reprise of his January speech about restoring London’s identity as a union of villages.   But, he sounded several clear notes of defiance.