By Moi Ali, former board member, Scottish Police Authority

WE all get things wrong sometimes. Most of us learn that it’s best to admit mistakes, apologise and put it right. Not so the Scottish Police Authority (SPA), the subject of relentless adverse publicity since its decisions to bar journalists and the public from previously open committees, and to stop advance publication of board papers. Ironically, both decisions were taken in bid to avoid unsympathetic media coverage.

Manoeuvring to block bad news is never the answer; the solution lies in earning good headlines through being open and accountable. Transparent organisations are more likely to be trusted; stakeholders can see they have nothing to hide. Conversely, bodies that wriggle and squirm, duck and dive, to avoid hostile headlines end up attracting even more.

And so it has been with the SPA. In December 2016 its board took these two questionable decisions, which within days were criticised by the Auditor General and Her Majesty’s Inspectorate of Constabulary in Scotland (HMICS). The First Minister said she expected the SPA to implement these watchdogs’ views and recommendations around openness and transparency. Had the authority done so back then, damage would have been limited and this debacle would now be history.

Yet four-plus months later it rumbles on, fuelled by SPA chair Andrew Flanagan’s “shambolic” appearances before the Public Audit and Post-Legislative Scrutiny Committee (PAPLS) of the Scottish Parliament. Giving evidence in March, rather than admit mistakes and kill the story, he blamed me, forcing my release of his letter suggesting that my opposition to the SPA proposals was a resigning matter. Bad board decisions were compounded by Mr Flanagan’s attempt to quash the mildest of dissent with his letter suggesting I resign, and his punitive action of removing me from committees if I didn’t.

It then emerged that Mr Flanagan had withheld a letter from Derek Penman, HMICS, critical of the SPA’s anti-transparency proposals. Written to inform the board ahead of its decisions, members never got to see it. So when Mr Flanagan appeared in front of the PAPLS again last week, MSPs queried the letter’s suppression. Mr Flanagan could have admitted a misjudgement, but no: instead he attempted to justify the unjustifiable.

STV Holyrood editor Colin Mackay described Mr Flanagan’s session as “one of the toughest grillings by MSPs I’ve seen in Holyrood’s 18 years”. MSPs of all political persuasions were united in their condemnation, accusing the chair of Kremlin-style secrecy; telling him he was treating board colleagues “like infants”; suggesting he was “a control freak”; and questioning whether he had considered his position. Scottish Liberal Democrat justice spokesperson Liam McArthur, who is not on the committee, said afterwards: “Dissent, transparency and openness to scrutiny will not damage the SPA’s position but instead strengthen it.” He’s right.

Hours after his appearance before Holyrood, the authority’s hand was forced: Cabinet Secretary for Justice Michael Matheson announced HMICS would fast-track its planned inspection of the SPA’s governance. Mr Flanagan then wrote to the Committee with a partial climb-down on private committees – though still no contrition.

This dismantling of the SPA’s decisions has been called a “humiliating U-turn”. An early apology and the reversal of untenable decisions would have averted this embarrassing fiasco, saved Mr Flanagan’s face, and prevented the serious reputational damage he has inflicted on his own organisation.

When I became Scotland’s first Judicial Complaints Reviewer (JCR) in 2011, no one had confidence in the role. There were parallels with the SPA board. Both the judiciary and the police are seen as needing robust oversight; the JCR and SPA were branded ineffectual from the off.

I won public trust and confidence as JCR by exceeding expectations in terms of transparency. I welcomed Freedom of Information requests, even though the legislation did not apply to me; I published detailed annual reports, although there was no requirement; and I kept a register of interests, despite not having to. When asked for media comment, I avoided “spin”: if I had to criticise the Government or the judiciary, I did. As a result, most of my fiercest critics were won over.

Winning trust is a process that takes time, but there’s no time like the present. When Mr Flanagan wrote for this column last month, he said that his organisation was “alive to unintended consequences around the decision to make our committees private not public”. The biggest unintended consequence for the SPA has been the humiliating headlines. Mr Flanagan told the PAPLS that he had “no regrets”. However, it’s not Edith Piaf’s, but Elton John’s classic anthem that encapsulates this saga: sorry seems to be the hardest word. Mr Flanagan, sorry is the word that the public expects. Don’t keep them waiting.