Hoyle grew up in politics. His father, the Lord Hoyle, was a Labour MP in Lancashire from the Seventies through to the Nineties. Sir Lindsay worked as a counsellor while running a textile business until he won his own seat in 1997.
During his bid to become Speaker, he campaigned to change the drink and drugs culture at the Commons. Does it have a problem? “The House of Commons is no different from life. We reflect what happens outside the building. Society’s problems will be inside the House of Commons.” He tells me about a colleague who had a drink problem. “Nobody wanted to deal with it. When I became Speaker, I said: ‘No – when people have a problem, we deal with it.’ Don’t sweep it under the carpet. You destroy someone’s career. Never destroy someone’s career. I want to change the face of how this House looks. We’ve got great people in here who need to be given the chance to shine.”
Diversity and inclusion is important to him. I ask about the reports that the PM has blocked an amendment to the MPs code of conduct, that proposed to require MPs to promote “anti-racism, inclusion and diversity”, over fears it would stifle free speech. “There is a [difference] between free speech and what is pure racism. To use racism within speech is an excuse,” he says. “Look, I want to make sure that if you put a cork in a bath, it rises to the top. Everybody needs to have that chance to pop up at the top. Everybody’s equal to me. But the proof will be when people leave here and say: ‘You need to work at the House of Commons, they’re a good employer, they look after you.’”
In some politicians, such talk about mental health might seem like posturing. In Sir Lindsay Hoyle, it is a passion born in part from terrible personal tragedy. In December 2017, his 28-year-old daughter, Natalie, was found dead. It is believed she took her life.
“It’s still difficult,” he says now. “It’s still raw. I could never understand why. Well, I do understand why, but I can’t believe it happened.” Natalie’s mother is Miriam Lewis, a district councillor he met while he himself was a counsellor, after the break up of his first marriage to Lynda Ann Fowler, which produced one daughter, Emma. In 1993, he married Catherine Swindley, who succeeded him as Labour councillor when he was elected to the Commons, and they are together to this day, part of a blended family that is clearly exceptionally close.
“It’s a tough call, when we get to Christmas, birthdays, all the usual anniversaries. Her niece and nephew still ask today ‘Where’s auntie Natalie?’ Going to her grave….” He pauses for a moment. “Nobody ever expects to lose their child. That’s where life gets much harder for us. Some days are worse than others. I keep busy. I’ve got an advantage, there’s loads of things to do, I’ve lots of distractions to get on with life. But you never forget. She’s always there. I pick up my phone and her number’s still there. It’s not easy.”
He tells me that Natalie’s mother has set up a charity, Chat With Nat, which aims to help people who are experiencing gaslighting – sadly, Natalie was in a toxic relationship before her death. “I’d like to say I hope it never happens to any other parent. But it will. We’ve got to make sure there are people like Miriam who are willing to be there for others.” How does he cope? “I keep myself focused and try to work it through. It’s a bit like my diabetes: I have four injections a day. I hate it, but I’ve got to do it. I self-manage my issues and my demons. I keep them to myself in a sense.”
He had just been elected Speaker when he was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. It is exceptionally rare to develop Type 1 this late in life – he is 64 now – and he believes that it was caused by the trauma of Natalie’s death.
