Intuition does not always let us see or celebrate what works. The mirror reflects the pimple, not the beating heart or pumping lungs.
We spent a week dissecting the deputy prime minister's tax arrangements, yet almost no time examining the accountability process that followed. Thousands of hours of commentary on the political fallout, minimal attention on the detail of how the system actually responded.
This imbalance helps explain why only 12% of the public trust governments to put national interest first. Democracy lives or dies not by outcomes, but by process – and we are not giving it enough air time.
Journalists play a vital role in uncovering these stories. Headlines dent trust, but it's the belief that people act with impunity – that processes are inadequate – that destroys it.
Which is why the detail of Sir Laurie Magnus's report deserved far more attention than it received. It exemplified the kind of rigorous, fair process that underpins democratic integrity.
Forensic yet compassionate. Magnus acknowledges the “almost intolerable pressures” facing prominent politicians in protecting their families' privacy. He recognises the complexity of Rayner's circumstances – disability, divorce, and intricate family financial arrangements – while never allowing empathy to compromise professional standards. Magnus's “deep regret” at his conclusion is palpable and genuine. He is fulfilling a difficult duty with evident reluctance. This balance between human understanding and institutional rigour, far from weakening the report, strengthens its authority. It is crucial to rebuilding public confidence.
Clear methodology. Magnus is transparent and meticulous. He details his examination of property transaction documentation, legal advice, and tax counsel opinions. His findings are structured with surgical precision into four clear conclusions, each building an evidence-based narrative that shows Rayner acted in good faith but received inadequate professional advice. She was told twice in writing that the lower rate of stamp duty applied, but both times with caveats recommending specialist tax advice – advice she did not seek.
Courage in nuance. Magnus explicitly states his belief that “Ms Rayner has acted with integrity and with a dedicated and exemplary commitment to public service” while simultaneously finding that she breached the ministerial code. This isn't a contradiction; it's sophisticated judgment that recognises the difference between intent and outcome, between personal integrity and institutional standards. This distinction matters profoundly for public service. The “highest possible standards” required by the ministerial code are not just about personal honesty – they are about the additional responsibilities that come with high office.
Magnus had to tell a prime minister that his deputy had breached standards – an intervention with clear political consequences. He did so with clarity, evidence, and respect for all involved. It is a reminder of what independent, professional advice looks like. And it shows that maintaining standards does not require harsh judgment, that accountability can co-exist with compassion, and that process matters as much as outcomes.
For those of us who care about governance and rebuilding trust, it is what good looks like. Whether one agrees with his conclusion is almost beside the point. What matters is that a difficult question was investigated thoroughly, fairly, and transparently.
These processes are the beating heart, the pumping lungs of our democracy.
In our current climate of institutional fragility, seeing and celebrating them isn't just important – it's essential.
Kevin Keith is chair of the UK Open Government Network