THEY call it “gaming democracy” and it’s the latest vestigial locution that the political elites have concocted to convey something smart and profound. It’s part of a suite of essentially meaningless aphorisms that also includes “progressiveness” and – my favourite – “delivering a world-class (insert type of service here)”.

Most of us simply want a service that’s, well … serviceable. And how do you measure world-class anyway? It immediately suggests you know the statistical delivery charts of every other country delivering the same service by a commonly agreed set of indicators laid down by a suitably independent authority.

It travels on the assumption of those who deploy it that the rest of us are stupid. In truth, the vast majority of the citizenry have their own day-to-day problems to deal with to be arsed with challenging such mince.

“Progressiveness” as practised by the middle-class rockets and roasters who mouth it glibly is the opposite of what it seeks to convey, so that it becomes regressive and authoritarian. It seizes an ethereal and shape-shifting set of values built around equality and then weaponises them. Its primary purpose is to shut down debate and exclude the voices of people whose intellects are considered to be inferior. It’s why working-class people are grossly under-represented at Holyrood despite comprising more than half the population.

Chris McEleny, the former leader of the SNP group on Inverclyde Council and a lifelong campaigner for Scottish independence – even when it cost him his daytime job at the Ministry of Defence – knows what this embedded disdain for authentic working-class voices in Scottish politics looks like.

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Mr McEleny is also a Catholic with a proud Irish heritage and has never been afraid of expressing this. In the last two years though, he has been targeted by a venomous group from the SNP’s youth wing. His crime? He’s just too Catholic.

When McEleny finally decided he’d had enough of this and decided to join Alba, his announcement was met by a slew of poison. He has done more for the cause of authentic Scottish independence than his detractors will ever achieve in their collected lifetimes. Yet, simply for being faithful to the tenets of his religious beliefs he’s considered fair game by these people and their sly sponsors at parliament and in the media.

We’ll hear a lot about “gaming democracy” in the weeks ahead; mainly in the context of Alba seeking to help achieve a Yes supermajority at Holyrood. The Scottish electoral system was fixed at the beginning to ensure that no single party would ever gain a majority. It’s why assorted Scottish Labour grandees, long since having been seduced by fur coats and expenses in the House of Lords, were confident that devolution would stop independence in its tracks.

That there is now a Yes majority at Holyrood, with the assistance of the Scottish Greens, is a result of this gaming of democracy. But when Alba are open about how they intend to achieve a supermajority (by targeting list places only) it suddenly becomes questionable.

Democracy itself, though, could be considered a gaming of authentic equality. The overwhelming majority of UK citizens cast their votes in the fond belief that by doing so they will be electing a government which will carry the imprimatur of the people. We proclaim democracy as the highest form of civilised conduct because riches and influence can’t secure more than one vote for person.

Riches and influence, though, can produce a vast and hidden infrastructure of political machinery after an election to ensure that their interests aren’t derailed by something as trivial as “democracy”.

At Westminster it travels first-class on a dazzling array of hospitality at Britain’s cultural and sporting crown jewels. Often, it comes in the form of large donations to the main political parties – especially the Tories – along with the unspoken expectation of special treatment when legislation is going through Parliament.

BILLIONS are spent by lobbying firms each year on behalf of clients seeking to gain influence with select committees which, in turn (depending on the personnel) can lead to pressure being brought to bear on foreign regimes to look benignly on granting strategic exceptions. There may be a fee involved, or some SAM missiles, or a promise to go easy on their human rights records.

In Scotland, we believe that Holyrood proceeds on a more accountable and transparent basis. To an extent, it does. But something insidious remains in the way that an anointed class of lawyers, local government hustlers and professional party managers are grossly over-represented at Holyrood.

If you lack a degree from a decent university (we salute you, Strathclyde) or haven’t done service in the Matalan army of duffel bag carriers which comprise the party special advisory then your chances of becoming one of our 129 MSPs are as thin as the stripes on their cheap suits.

They scurry around party conferences looking busy and pleased with themselves and constantly looking over your shoulder for the eye of someone more important to catch. Later in the evening, having received their orders from a senior press adviser, they’ll take to social media to eviscerate the day’s chosen victim who is deemed to have spoken out of turn or been seen associating with the wrong type of people.

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A recent Freedom of Information request revealed the series of “off-piste” meetings held by Humza Yousaf with selected special interest groups to ensure a specific outcome was secured in the Hate Crime Bill. Rank and file Yes supporters, whose subscriptions during the lean years in opposition kept the party going, are still waiting for answers about the end-user details of more than £500,000 of donations explicitly intended to fight a referendum campaign.

Yet, unless they are word-perfect in the barren and dismal argot of “progressiveness” they don’t stand a chance of selection.

And if they are found to have expressed, several years previously, sentiments now deemed questionable then they will face an onslaught lest they even think about standing for election.

And when a candidate is up for re-election they will only be favoured with a solidarity visit from a Cabinet minister if they have been sufficiently well-behaved. This usually means refraining from asking difficult questions about the SNP leadership’s – how can I put this – “relaxed” approach to achieving a second referendum on independence.

It is how the street-level members of the wider Yes movement are kept at a safe distance from the inner sanctums of the SNP. To “game democracy” is only possible if democracy actually exists.