EMMA RODDICK: Nicola Sturgeon taught us that there’s more than one way to do politics
Register for free to read more of the latest local news. It's easy and will only take a moment.
While Nicola Sturgeon may no longer be First Minister, her glaring impact on politics, the SNP, and countless women and girls will be tangible for a while to come.
I count myself among the many who have been inspired and motivated by her leadership and her integrity.
Many of us had never seen a politician do it the way she does; not making herself any less feminine or taking on a persona to carry out her role, but sticking by her own moral compass and personality.
She taught us that there’s more than one way to do politics: you can be strong and kind; respected and fair; assertive and introverted. You don’t have to play pretend that you’re the stereotypical, middle-aged white male who can turn on his colleagues at any moment and has to shout down his opponents.
She lifted as she climbed; nurturing countless younger careers and committing to gender balance in her governments, and she publicly forged cross-party friendships alongside strong working relationships.
Recently, female colleagues both in and out of the SNP, as well as staffers, journalists, and constituents, have written to tell me of the impact that she had on their political journeys and lives.
She managed to cut through invisible barriers into the lives of folk who never really took an interest in what was going on in any parliament or government building before, truly doing what many before her only gestured at believing in: making politics more accessible. Careers in public service suddenly became a visible – even obvious – option for young women who hadn’t yet realised their campaigning and volunteering was political engagement.
I’ve seen kids dress up as her for World Book Day, had friends say they’re reading a book because she recommended it on Instagram, and even friends who long insisted what I do for a living is boring – have shown me TikToks with captions like: “Nicola getting them telt at FMQs”.
My mother followed me into the SNP after Nicola became leader, losing whole evenings chatting in Facebook fan groups, splitting her sides watching Janey Godley’s take on the day’s events, and talking about the First Minister of Scotland as if she were a pal who’d just been round for a cup of coffee earlier in the day.
This ability to connect with people, even those who might have turned over if FMQs came on with others at the helm, bought her trust and respect over the pandemic. People from across the UK and the world, not just Scotland, regularly tuned in to her daily updates to hear what was going on and how the Scottish Government was dealing with it, sensing she was a reliable source.
The perplexing leadership and partying from our government down south may have provided a helpful contrast, but she did not need it to appear calm, collected, and capable, even to many who would never agree with her on social issues, economics, or the question of independence.
While I am aware of the criticism she took for this from many different angles, watching the way she dealt with allegations against her mentor and friend Alex Salmond was the time I was most in awe of her. Knowing that this was a man she had learned from and had immense respect towards, her unwavering commitment to improving complaints processes and the way sexual assault and harassment complainers are treated overall meant the world to this survivor.
It takes courage and conviction to stand by your principles over your friends, to value and investigate complaints thoroughly regardless of who they’re against, and she proved over and over that she could do just that.
She’s the very definition of a tough act to follow.
