Hansard

I thank Kenneth Gibson for bringing this unusual topic for debate. As usual, he regaled us with a series of somewhat arcane statistics about which, perhaps, many of us knew very little, but it was an interesting contribution. I am also grateful to the other two contributors.

Telecoms are an area reserved to Westminster. The provision of public call boxes falls within BT’s universal service obligations, in which the Scottish Government has no locus to intervene. However, Ofcom has informed me that, as members have said, there has been a very substantial decline in the use of telephone boxes—a 90 per cent decline over the past decade. Indeed, many of the proposed removals have not been used to make a single call in the past 12 months.

Understandably, perhaps, BT has taken action, and it has published criteria that are designed to ensure that boxes are retained where they are actively used, which is good, and where there is a social need for them, which is also good. The overriding social need criteria cover sites where there is no mobile coverage from any provider, suicide hot spots, accident black spots, and coastal locations and islands. BT has confirmed that no removals will be proposed in such areas. I welcome that approach, which one can appreciate may prove to be very advantageous in extremis, in urgent situations.

Where removals are proposed, BT will consult with the relevant local authority, which in turn can consult locally—for example, with community councils—and I encourage them so to do. Ultimately, the local authority can veto BT’s proposed removal if it can demonstrate appropriate grounds. Mr Gibson highlighted the preservation of phone boxes in the islands in his constituency—I think he mentioned Arran. He is a doughty fighter for the preservation of island telephone boxes, among a great many other things.

Not being possessed of an extraordinarily active imagination, I was not aware of all the things that can be done in phone boxes. It was not until the revelatory content of Mr Greene’s contribution that I became aware that they could be used as a coffee shop, salad bar or bookcase—I presume not all three at once. I had thought, naively, that there was not much that one can do in a phone box, but I will not go there. The imagination struggles to come up with what other activities could be carried out in a telephone box, and I hesitate to make any contributions regarding potential activities that are flitting through the cranial area just at the moment.

The telephone box is a very attractive piece of heritage. It is a nice thing to see around the place. It is a part of history. It would be very sad if they all disappeared. I can imagine, if the television programme “Antiques Roadshow” is still being screened in 100 years’ time, as well it might, that there might be a quiz featuring a telephone box—“What was this used for?”, people would ask in astonishment.

If I may, I will digress a little bit to reflect on the late Ewen Bain, whose works as a cartoonist you will have known and enjoyed, Presiding Officer. His famous character was the Hebridean Angus Og, who was the sort of person who found himself in difficult situations of his own making almost every day. At that time my mother was, if I may say so, a quite well-known defence lawyer for the criminal fraternity. In one cartoon, Angus Og found himself in a telephone box in possession of a very, very large salmon. He was on the phone, saying, “Hello, Mrs Ewing. I’m in a spot of bother.” That goes to prove that there are uses to which the telephone box can be put.

Before I digress even further from the topic, let me say that I accept that telephone boxes remain important in some locations, and their removal will not be appropriate. I am more than happy to raise members’ concerns with any local authority should they wish me to do so.

I am very pleased to have this opportunity, albeit an unexpected one, to stand up for the phone box in Holyrood.