4 min read
In presenting his first Budget as First Minister, John Swinney placed cross-party engagement at the centre of his approach. He spoke of creating “a cohesive and unifying programme that works for all of Scotland”, emphasising discussions with other political parties and stakeholders to help secure its passage. The language was deliberate: weaving priorities together, standing ready to do more, and seeking support beyond his own benches.
That approach was reflected in the negotiations that followed. The 2026 Scottish Budget passed last week with the support of the Scottish Liberal Democrats. Rather than abstain or oppose, the party chose to engage in negotiations to secure additional funding for its priorities. This resulted in an additional £300 million, including increased funding for colleges, hospices, autism services and ADHD assessments. In a Parliament often characterised as polarised, the agreement stood out — not because political differences disappeared, but because they were navigated through structured negotiation and pragmatic compromise.
For the Scottish Liberal Democrats, that willingness to engage carries echoes of their former leader, Jim Wallace, who passed away recently. As Scotland’s first Deputy First Minister, Wallace treated consensus not as weakness but as a working method. Compromise was not an afterthought; it was the discipline that allowed the new Parliament to function and helped establish a tone of constructive politics in the early years of devolution.
For those working in Scotland’s energy and decarbonisation sectors, this matters. Stable, long-term policymaking depends not just on fiscal commitments but on political behaviour. As Scotland navigates one of the most complex industrial transformations in generations, the durability of policy frameworks will depend on the culture in which they are shaped.
The early Parliament: compromise as a working method
The early years of devolution were not without dispute. Coalition government between Labour and the Liberal Democrats required constant negotiation. The Scottish Parliament was untested. Authority was still being defined. Yet consensus-building was treated as a discipline rather than a weakness – a way of working that demanded patience, respect and an acceptance that no one side would get everything it wanted.
Despite political tensions, the Parliament delivered tangible early successes. Landmark reforms such as land reform legislation, freedom of information laws and early justice reforms were forged through coalition compromise, committee scrutiny and serious cross-party engagement. Even when debates were heated, there was a stronger sense that parliamentary conduct mattered – that the credibility of the new institution depended on how disagreements were handled, not just how votes were won.
That culture had real benefits. Policy carried broader legitimacy because it was shaped collaboratively. Stakeholders could engage with a process that, while political, was also structured and relatively predictable. There was more space for evidence, for expert voices, and for the kind of incremental refinement that produces durable outcomes.
It would be wrong to romanticise that era. Politics was still sharp. There were still battles and bruised egos. But there was a prevailing sense that disagreement should not corrode the institution itself.
What polarisation has cost policymaking
Over the past decade, that culture has shifted. The independence referendum, Brexit, the rise of populism and the increasingly performative nature of political discourse have hardened dividing lines. Westminster has endured prolonged instability. Holyrood has become more adversarial. Social media rewards outrage over nuance.
For sectors that depend on regulatory certainty and cross-cycle stability – energy chief among them – this shift has consequences.
The shift to clean energy cannot be delivered on a five-year electoral timetable. Offshore wind, hydro power and grid upgrades require patient capital, public consent and policy consistency. When politics becomes more tribal and less forgiving, long-term frameworks become vulnerable to abrupt change, and decision-making becomes harder to anchor in evidence rather than ideology.
For organisations seeking to shape policy, the lesson is clear. Engagement must prioritise cross-party relationships. Evidence must acknowledge trade-offs honestly. Coalitions should be built around shared outcomes – energy security, economic resilience, emissions reduction and community benefit – rather than partisan positioning.
Scotland’s energy transition will involve difficult choices. It will demand challenge and scrutiny. But if we want policy that endures, we must also value the behaviours that make endurance possible.
This approach reminds us that consensus is not the absence of disagreement. It is the presence of respect – and that remains essential to building an energy system fit for the next 25 years.