'Russell Findlay’s smiley face sums up Tory election struggle'

Russell Findlay drew a smiley face on his notes ahead of launching his party’s manifesto.

It was a small, almost throwaway detail which I picked up on during a huddle with other journalists today but it may be the most revealing thing about his campaign so far.

Behind it sits a fairly stark reality.

Polls suggest the Scottish Conservatives could fall from being the main opposition party to fifth place in a matter of weeks. A recent Norstat survey put them on just 12 seats, down from 28.

And yet, there he was, pen in hand, sketching a grin.

Read more Unspun:

• Reform UK suspends Dundee City West candidate Stuart Niven
• How personal experience influences assisted dying debate
• Police Scotland chief Jo Farrell given hefty pay rise - why?

When I asked him about it in contrast to the poor polling his party is currently facing, he didn’t dodge the symbolism.

"We have to smile of course, because we are all enjoying ourselves.

"It's a very difficult job. Nobody thought this was going to be easy,” he said, framing both his leadership and the party’s position as a long, grinding rebuild rather than a quick fix.

That tension, between the grim arithmetic and the determined optimism, now defines Findlay’s pitch to voters.

The smiley face is less naive cheerfulness, more conscious performance.

Or, to borrow from his favourite artist, Eminem, it’s a bit Stan: intense, slightly obsessive belief in a message that may or may not be landing with the audience.

Because the manifesto itself is anything but light.

At its core is a familiar Conservative economic offer: cut taxes, shrink the state, and argue that Scotland is overburdened by a “bloated” benefits system.

The party wants to raise the income tax threshold, introduce a new 19% starter rate, and unfreeze the higher-rate band - all funded, it says, by reining in a £7 billion benefits bill and reducing bureaucracy.

Then there’s the retail politics.

A £500 tax rebate for pensioners, “hand back £500” in Findlay’s framing, triple-locked to rise over time.

A commitment that “every woman has the right to be seen by a female GP”. A parents’ panel on “socially contentious” issues in schools.

Even the eye-catching pledge to send prisoners to foreign jails.

But alongside those offers sits a harder edge: cuts to the Scottish Child Payment for low-income families.

It’s a platform that tries to straddle two imperatives - economic credibility and cultural clarity - while also fending off pressure from Reform on the right and irrelevance in the polls.

Findlay himself seems acutely aware of the stakes.

He has spoken about giving “absolutely everything” to stop an SNP majority, warning of a “living nightmare” of another independence referendum.

At the same time, he has been unusually candid about the personal toll, even joking there will be “relief” when the election is over in a recent interview.

That honesty is striking. So is the strategy.

Rather than pretending momentum is with him, Findlay is asking voters - particularly on the regional “peach” ballot - to use the Conservatives as a blocking mechanism. Not a government-in-waiting, but a brake.

And maybe that’s where the smiley face really comes in.

Not as blind optimism, but as a kind of coping mechanism. A signal to colleagues, to journalists (however, I doubt I was meant to see that emoji), maybe even to himself: keep going.

Asked if the smiley face was to counteract the poor polling his party is facing, Mr Findlay joked: "I have a natural sunshine-y demeanour. That's what it represents."

Because this campaign isn’t about winning outright for Russell Findlay. Far from it. It’s about survival, relevance, and holding a line.

Or, as you might imagine him humming to party members after the speeches and the stagecraft: 'everything little thing is going to be alright.'

Even if the numbers suggest otherwise.