The Crown Estate has always been a curious beast with extraordinary powers which I have been tracking on and off for over 40 years. At that time it was an other-worldly organisation with aristocratic trappings and a hard commercial nose, the Earl of Mansfield presiding.

My first knowledge of it arose when I discovered it was flogging off seabed leases in Highland sea-lochs to multinational companies without anyone who lived around them having the slightest clue what was going on. Decisions taken then by the Crown Estate shaped the Scottish salmon farming industry, and not in a good way. It was a grotesque exercise in wholly unaccountable power.

The Crown Estate existed almost entirely to manage a vast property portfolio in London’s most expensive postcodes, as well as the Duchy of Cornwall. Somewhere on the distant fringes of its activities was something quaintly described as the “marine estate”, probably run by a man and a well-bred dog.

Transparency and democracy were vulgar concepts. The Crown Estate brooked no challenge; a state of mind which was actually underwritten in law. I was startled to discover that the 1961 Crown Estate Act which, as far as I know is still extant, spelt out this untouchability in terms of menacing clarity.


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“The validity of transactions entered into by the Commissioners,” it snarled, “shall not be called in question on any suggestion of their not having acted in accordance with the provisions of this Act … or of their having otherwise acted in excess of their authority, nor shall any person dealing with the Commissioners be concerned to inquire as to the extent of their authority or the observance of any restrictions on the exercise of their powers.”

Would-be dictators would have killed for such a law! Over the decades, I broke it regularly and ultimately, I hope, contributed to change. In response to the Calman Commission in 2008 and the Smith Commission in 2016, the Crown Estate in Scotland was devolved but certainly not in the way I argued for over the years. As with so much else, devolution came to an abrupt halt in Edinburgh, whereas my case had always been for powers and revenues to go straight to coastal communities and local authorities.

Instead, Crown Estate Scotland was established as an unelected quango by the Scottish Government, displaying an aversion to democracy that would have impressed the drafters of the 1961 Act. And verily it has come to pass, that the “marine estate” of Crown Estate Scotland is no longer a fringe activity run from Mayfair but a multi-million-pound business involving critical decisions for the Scottish economy. Compared to offshore wind, even salmon farms are now small fry.

At this point, I admit to some confusion, which is the intention of those who abhor transparency. Crown Estate Scotland is supposed to have some degree of autonomy but appears to be run, when it comes to money, as a piggy bank for the Scottish Government. When it made a monumental blunder over the sale of ScotWind leases, was this the work of Crown Estate Scotland or of Scottish Government civil servants, or are they interchangeable? I don’t know and it is hard to find out.

Much more important, I doubt if there are more than a handful of MSPs who would have a clue about these questions, never mind the answers. Surely it is time they were trying to educate themselves because this is an ongoing saga which again threatens to cost Scotland dear.

At risk of repeating myself in this column, the original intention of Crown Estate Scotland/Scottish Government was to sell off the ScotWind leases in a capped auction for £75.6 million. By chance, the Crown Estate for the rest of the UK (now a highly professional organisation, incidentally) went first with an uncapped auction for six wind farms which raised over £1 billion. At that point, Crown Estate Scotland suspended the process, hired consultants and multiplied 10-fold the auction cap.

The delay meant Crown Estate Scotland/Scottish Government got £680.4 million more than the maximum price it originally set. Particularly in light of what has happened since, it would still be useful to get some answers. On whose advice - and to whose potential benefit - did Scotland come within days of losing out on £680.4 million? Did any head roll? Will the Auditor General, who is usually the best bet, help us find out?

What has happened since? The £756 million is gone. Vanished. This money (albeit far less than should have been raised) has disappeared into the pot of general public expenditure. It was never ring-fenced nor, in my reading, was there ever any intention of ring-fencing it for the obvious purpose – investment in infrastructure to support the energy transition, particularly in places most affected by it.

Crown Estate Scotland was established as an unelected quango by the Scottish GovernmentCrown Estate Scotland was established as an unelected quango by the Scottish Government (Image: Newsquest)

And now we come up to date with another interesting twist. The incoming Labour Government has sensibly given the Crown Estate in England, Wales and Northern Ireland borrowing powers so it can raise and invest billions in the energy transition. In response, there has been a deafening silence from the Scottish Government and Crown Estate Scotland.

Because the latter is run as a wholly-owned subsidiary of the former, the same discretion does not apply. It is the Scottish Government which would need to borrow and who in their right mind, given what has happened to the £756 million, would allow that to happen without cast iron guarantees about what the money will be used for; a conditionality which, on past form, Scottish ministers would regard as an affront? But where else is it going to come from?

I don’t ask much of Holyrood and expect less. But would it be possible to have a full-scale debate in which these matters are explained and explored? Ministers must be forced to explain - if indeed they understand - how the status of Crown Estate Scotland can be turned to advantage, rather than acting as an impediment to vital investment, transparency and, dare I even hope for it, genuine devolution?

Brian Wilson is a former Labour Party politician. He was MP for Cunninghame North from 1987 until 2005 and served as a Minister of State from 1997 to 2003