Is the Scottish Government committed to keeping island lights on?

Soon it will be lights off, nobody home and that is how it will stay ­until the weather begins to become more conducive to a comfortable escape in an overpriced additional property.

For the rest of us, the lights are going on earlier and earlier, and the chances of us ­being home are greater – not least because our ferries are no fans of the winter storms.

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Transport and housing are things that many of us involved in island politics are preoccupied with at the moment and, to a person, we’re heartily sick of talking about both topics. Sadly, we have little choice because when it comes to rural and island policy, lights on, nobody home, seems to be closer to the mark – and last week was a case in point.

First up came the announcement that ferry fares are rising 10% next year, and not 24 hours later came the news that ­Rural Housing Scotland is closing ­because it cannot secure core funding.

With widespread acknowledgement that the West Coast ferry ­network is in ­shambles, and with a very well-documented housing emergency, one might think that neither of these ­announcements would curry favour with the locals. And you would be right.

It feels like it is getting harder and harder to live permanently in the islands. When housing is like hens’ teeth and travel ­requires multiple backup bookings and plans A, B, C and D, it’s not difficult to work out why depopulation happens. The cards are stacked against us at every turn.

CalMac’s cards are also stacked against them. Earlier this month, ­CalMac itself admitted that there was a “perfect storm” of issues related to ­maintenance schedules and the MV ­Caledonian Isles in sick bay.

It’s not CalMac to blame for ferry fares. Fare decisions are made by Transport Scotland, the national transport agency, which operates under the direction of the Scottish Government.

The official line is that consultation with stakeholders, including ferry operators like CalMac, island councils, and community groups, may also factor into these decisions … It would make a cat laugh.

In April, fares rose by 8.7%. That ­increase followed the end of a fare freeze introduced to help ease the burden ­during the cost of living crisis and recovery from the pandemic. Now they are rising by ­another 10%.

The blinkered internet trolls on the mainland think we are making a fuss about nothing. Their taxes pay for our ferries, they tell us. And anyway, we have RET, so we shouldn’t complain.

RET stands for Road Equivalent ­Tariff. Introduced by the Scottish Government in 2008, RET is a fare structure ­designed to align ferry fares with the cost of ­travelling an equivalent distance by road. The RET formula for calculating fares is a combination of a fixed element and a rate per mile.

To put the costs into perspective, the cost of a return from Tiree to Oban with a vehicle will be a shade under £200. I drive a fuel-guzzling pick-up and for £200, I can drive to Bristol and back with change. I’m flying to Greece for less than that at the end of the month. It’s a road equivalent tariff if the road is paved with actual gold.

Large commercial vehicles don’t ­qualify for RET, so our incoming goods are all that much more expensive. Island cost of ­living is already sky high and a fare ­increase is just about the last thing ­residents need. The most frustrating part of these decisions is that there is ­supposed to be a mechanism by which changes to policy and services can be assessed in ­relation to impact – it’s called an ICIA.

The Island Communities Impact ­Assessment is a tool that is intended to be used by public bodies in ­Scotland to ­assess the potential impact of ­policies, ­strategies, or services on ­island ­communities.

The ­process is part of the Scottish ­Government’s Islands (­Scotland) Act 2018, which aims to improve ­outcomes for islanders and ensure that island needs are taken into account in decision-making.

The theory is that the ICIA process will ensure that the unique circumstances of island communities – such as ­remoteness, smaller populations, and sometimes ­higher costs of living – are considered when developing and implementing new policies or changes to services.

We'll just leave that nonsense where it is. If one has been done for this fare increase, none of my sources have seen it. In fact, for most policies and service changes, no-one has seen an ICIA in the wild. I’m not sure who is being asked about the impacts, but it doesn’t appear to be islanders … I can assure you that if islanders had been asked whether there should be core funding available for Rural Housing Scotland, we would most likely have said yes.

Not least the islander who lost their job last week as RHS announced that after running on fumes for the past year, they could no longer afford to stay open.

The closure is deeply worrying. Their work was instrumental in ensuring that many communities had access to ­sustainable, affordable housing solutions and – critically – knowledge about how best to go about it. RHS played a key role in ­bringing local authorities to the table – something that may well now be left to the embattled communities and their exhausted development staff and ­volunteers.

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The Communities Housing Trust is a similar organisation – maybe RHS fell out of favour, or maybe there was a feeling that the organisations were too similar… However, word on the street, unsurprisingly, is that the Communities Housing Trust is absolutely swamped. Who then picks up the slack? Will CHT funding be increased? No one is holding their breath.

We are told that islands are ­important. That addressing depopulation is a ­priority. We are supposed to have ICIAs and a ­National Islands Plan. There is an “Islands Team” and Kate Forbes (below), our Deputy First Minister, is vocal about the need to support our island communities.

(Image: PA)

Where then is the joined-up thinking? Where is the sense? Who is actually ­advocating on behalf of our ­communities? Is anyone doing it in the corridors of ­government? Because if they are, they are most certainly not being heard where their voices are most needed.

Almost everyone who responded to a ­recent consultation over the success of the last National Islands Plan was ­scathing about the delivery. Like the ­CalMac board who have barely set foot in an island, I suspect that the number of ­actual ­islanders involved in these ­decisions is minimal. As someone said to me this week: “Can you imagine what a team of actual islanders who know a thing or two would do?! It would be transformative. Game changer.”

Islands need to get out of the wide-ranging Rural Affairs, Land Reform and Islands department they are currently shoe-horned into and given their own ­department. Get people in who know what they are talking about, and give them the power to effect useful change.

I seriously doubt that will ever happen. Between increased ferry fares and fewer support structures to help the already overstretched development trusts tasked with solving the area’s existential housing problems with string and sticky tape, I am, in my darker moments, left to wonder whether the end goal is indeed to get rid of the apparently expensive and irritable resident communities.

If that is not the case – if the goal is, as we are told, to address depopulation – then it’s time some light bulbs went on in government before our places have no lights on at all.