James Heale and Michael Simmons

Saturday

James Heale and Michael Simmons

Disraeli to Reeves: how each Chancellor drank their way through the Budget

From our UK edition

34 min listen

Throughout the years, the only person permitted to drink inside the House of Commons is the Chancellor, so what has been the tipple of choice for each resident of Number 11 dating back to Benjamin Disraeli? Following Rachel Reeves Budget this week, Michael Simmons and James Heale drink their way through the ages, discuss the historical context of each Budget, and question whether Rachel Reeves has the toughest job of them all. This episode was originally recorded for Michael Simmons's new podcast Reality Check. Search Reality Check wherever you subscribe to your podcasts.

Thursday

James Heale and Michael Simmons

Bring back the Budget tipple!

From our UK edition

Of all Gordon Brown’s mistakes, perhaps the most sobering was his decision to end the tradition of drinking at the despatch box on Budget day. Commons convention holds that alcohol in the chamber is forbidden – with the sole exception of the chancellor when making his or her big speech. Rachel Reeves is known to like an Aperol spritz, though sadly not enough for her to restore this great custom. But we wanted to do our bit, so in protest at this abstemiousness we set ourselves a challenge: try every chancellor’s drink for which records are available, all in one sitting.  The tradition of the ‘Budget tipple’ seems to have been popularised in the 1850s, with Benjamin Disraeli. ‘Dizzy’ favoured a simple brandy and water – good for keeping one alert, warm and alive.

Thursday

James Heale and Michael Simmons

Nicola Sturgeon’s secret state

From our UK edition

As Westminster grapples with the P&O scandal, a very different farce over ferries has been playing out in Scotland. In the run-up to the 2014 independence referendum, a Glasgow shipbuilder went bust and was rescued by a Scottish National party adviser. It was later awarded a £97 million government contract to build two ferries. Neither emerged. The cost now stands at £240 million and last month Scots learned that there will be another eight-month delay to the boats. What happened? Why did so much public money change hands? Was the taxpayer swindled? Those trying to get to the bottom of these questions have hit a problem common to Nicola Sturgeon’s Scotland: much of the relevant documentary evidence has vanished.