Perhaps it escaped your notice but this week Westminster embarked upon a project which was billed as “the largest constitutional reform to the UK Parliament in a quarter of a century.”

It involved the Upper House and the question of privilege. A neat fit, I am sure you will agree. Still not got it?

Apparently, this change was en route to creating a parliament more reflective of modern Britain, more inclusive of women and those from diverse backgrounds. Still no?

With a potential impact upon the governance of Scotland? Ah, now I sense comprehension dawning.

I am talking about the Bill, given a Second Reading in the Commons this week, which sends the final 92 hereditary peers packing from the House of Lords.

Certainly, this is an historic change. Among those getting their leather-bound jotters are Lord Attlee, descendant of Clement, and the Duke of Wellington, the heir to the victor of Waterloo.

But is it really that big a deal? Will not a fundamentally undemocratic revising chamber still persist? For now, yes.

But sundry Conservatives – whose title signals their ideology – were upset. One said the measure was being “rushed through” by the new Labour government.

The speed, certainly, is dizzying. After all, the House of Lords is a relatively new institution, dating back merely to the early Middle Ages (Scotland joined in 1707).

William Pitt the Younger doled out titles. David Lloyd George went further and sold the baubles for cash. He also confronted the power of the Lords to impede his so-called People’s Budget.

Which was when? Just yesterday. OK, 1911.

I seem to have covered the issue of the Upper House, sporadically, throughout my prolonged journalistic career. I stress, sporadically.

In the late 1970s, I recall covering a Scottish Labour conference in Perth where Tony Benn – who had himself renounced a peerage – regaled delegates with a sardonic attack on the Upper house.

As I recall, my newspaper headlined my efforts: “Seems the Lords are the butt of Benn”. Ok, I liked it at the time. Perhaps you had to be Dundonian and read The Broons.

Life peers were first suggested in 1869. In 1999, Tony Blair ousted most of the hereditaries, who held their titles because of origin.

Now, the last are to go. Nick Thomas-Symonds, the Paymaster General, told MPs there “should not be places in our Parliament, making our laws, reserved for those who were born into certain families.”

Reformers would assent. But some might say that there is nothing particularly democratic about a revising House which comprises appointees, chosen by political parties, no doubt purely on merit, with no consideration whatsoever given to donations or personal allegiances.

Some might say that – and did. Such as Pete Wishart. He said he was more exercised by the issue of “cronies”. The SNP frontbencher added: “This meagre rubbish has not even got the credibility to call itself a reform.”

Christine Jardine, of the Liberal Democrats, argued for a fully elected upper house.

So why the caution? Firstly, underlying anxiety among MPs that an elected second chamber could rival their own power base.

Secondly, the innate reluctance of this United Kingdom to tinker with our unwritten constitution. Several MPs, mostly of a Tory persuasion, argued, in essence, that it was best to leave well alone.

They argued – and I have heard this case made by members of other parties – that the Upper House works, that it contains sufficient expertise and experience to take a reflective glance at Commons legislation, without impeding the democratic imperative.

Sir Oliver Dowden, leading for the Tories in the debate, said he was “proud” to live in an old country.

The House of Lords, he declared, did not claim to be democratic. That, he implied, was its advantage. It meant primacy remained with the Commons.

Read more

I knew Alex Salmond for decades. He was flawed but almost unstoppable

Keir Starmer’s first 100 days – how much worse can it get?

Thirdly, that instinctive caution was linked by some to respect for the institution of the Monarchy.

Andrew Rosindell, a Tory MP who values tradition, argued that it would be inconsistent to preserve an hereditary monarchy if the principle of dynastic succession were to be challenged in the Lords.

He has a point, does he not? There will be those who favour parliamentary reform but would retain a constitutional monarchy. There are others who would sweep the entire system away.

But there is a fourth factor. Beyond inertia, beyond caution, beyond the monarchy. That is the power of patronage, which can be decidedly handy, in certain circumstances, for political leaders.

They can reward diligent, loyal service. Or they can secure such service by hinting obliquely that elevation to the peerage might arise in due course.

I vividly recall a distant chat with a Tory MP. A frequent rebel, he nonetheless yearned for a peerage. I advised him, solemnly, that parties tended to prefer supporters.

Then there is Scotland. This week’s move is, apparently, one step towards a second chamber more representative of the nations and regions of the UK. Including Scotland.

How that might happen is not, at this stage, precisely clear. But some envisage the devolved nations and English mayors playing an indirect role.

Others think it might be like the Bundesrat, the German upper house whose members are chosen by the 16 regional Länder.

(Image: The House of Lords)

Part, in short, of a lingering desire to settle devolution within a wider UK political structure.

Big snag. We do not remotely have a federal system like Germany. We would be shoe-horning English cities in with law-making nations.

And what would happen to the life peers? To the Lords Spiritual, the Bishops from the Church of England who also sit in the Upper House? Again, unclear at this stage.

One thought occurs. If the Upper House were to be reformed in this direction, would the SNP have to rethink their present policy which is to refuse seats in the Lords?

Pete Wishart said he was “proud” that his party would “never put anybody in that red-leather-upholstered, gold-plated Narnia”. But what if the fitments and the varnish became more workaday? What if the revised chamber had new leverage over Scotland?

All matters, perhaps, for the future. For now, it is farewell to Earl Attlee and the Duke. As Lords reform slips back into obscurity.

Brian Taylor is a former political editor for BBC Scotland and a columnist for The Herald. He cherishes his family, the theatre, and Dundee United FC.