Hansard

I grew up in a small farming village outside St Andrews in the 1980s and 1990s, so Dundee was a metropolis to me. Lying 14 miles to the north, it always held a certain kind of magnetism. It was where we went for Christmas shopping, to see pantomimes at the Rep or to go ice skating. My comics were authored in its bustling streets, and its swimming pool had the finest flumes on the eastern seaboard. It basked in seemingly endless sunshine, on the side of a river that we crossed more times than I can remember. Each time that we passed a tree hung with Jif lemon bottles to the side of the bridge, my sister and I would lisp out lines of McGonagall about the Tay below us and the whale that once got stuck there. We would talk about the ancient rail tragedy that endured in the city’s consciousness and local song. We would relive our memories of the day in 1986 when the RSS Discovery, one of the most significant vessels of scientific exploration ever built, returned home—to the captivated rapture of this eight-year-old boy.

In later years, I would return with equal regularity—but for very different reasons. I learned to drive there. The sticky carpets of the Mardi Gras represented the nearest nightclub to the bars of St Andrews where I learned to drink. It was at that time that I also learned to appreciate the very Dundonian sound of Michael Marra—uncle to Jenny Marra of this parish.

I would also work there, at Fairbridge, in Kemback Street, delivering independent living skills and exploring cultural identity through youth work with the hardest-to-reach young people in Dundee’s inner city. I reflect, in particular, on the Fairbridge totem pole, which was carved by young people affected by substance use and installed in Dudhope park as a lasting monument to the triumph of culture and art over the very worst of Dundee’s social challenges. I do not get there as much as I would like these days, and I regret that.

Dundee embodies Scotland’s transition from heavy industry to world-leading software development and from crushing deprivation to cultural enlightenment, as is evident in the work of the community arts centre and in the excitement about the opening of the V&A. It has always been a city of culture to me. It has shaped my future, as it has done Scotland’s future. As such, it deserves recognition as a city of culture on the international stage.

I turn my attention now to culture in the west. Good culture is always found in the west—I declare an interest: I have tickets to see Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds at the Hydro tonight—and I lend my voice the unanimous support offered in the chamber to Paisley in its bid to become UK city of culture.

To my shame, I know far less about Paisley than I do about Dundee. However, since I was first inducted into the Parliament, I have enjoyed the passion of George Adam’s soliloquies about the many assets and strengths of the community that he represents. He has done a grand job of persuading me of the town’s history, many attributes and ability to overcome and renew. The town has reared some of my closest friends and hosts a university that educated my party’s leader. It is a resilient and proud community that has left its mark on global fashion. It has certainly come a long way since 1697 and the last mass execution of witches in western Europe.

In the history of Paisley, culture and industry have walked hand in hand through the burgeoning textile and weaving trade of the 19th century and in patterns of Kashmiri origin, patronised by Queen Victoria, which subsequently catapulted the town’s name and produce into global demand and repute. That recognition and sense of identity stood in defiance of the Luftwaffe’s bombers in the blitz and economic malaise down the decades. However, it is important to recognise that those still took their toll. As we have heard from Ross Greer, Ferguslie Park was named as one of the most deprived areas of Scotland last year.

Those ingredients unquestionably qualify Paisley as UK city of culture, not just for the raw and natural creativity that it has exhibited through the ages, but for the resilience that it displays and the benefits that such a status could afford. We know the value that such recognition can bring to a community, with the promise of more than 4,000 jobs and a £172 million boost the local economy.

As a constituency member, it feels alien for me to wax lyrical about the virtues of communities outside Edinburgh Western, but today it has been an effortless task. I am struck by the warmth that exists in the chamber across all the parties for Paisley and Dundee. Such debates are welcome in the conduct of the Parliament’s affairs. They challenge us to think about the virtues of, and challenges that face, communities beyond our own and to embrace a national pride that often becomes a pawn in a wider discourse about the constitutional future of our nation. Therefore, I am very proud to support the Government motion and offer the full-throated support of the Liberal Democrat members to both cities in their bids.