Having the Bottle - Businesswoman Marie Macklin tells Mandy Rhodes that Scotland needs to grasp its entrepreneurial spirit
Having the Bottle - Businesswoman Marie Macklin tells Mandy Rhodes that Scotland needs to grasp its entrepreneurial spirit
Having the Bottle - Businesswoman Marie Macklin tells Mandy Rhodes that Scotland needs to grasp its entrepreneurial spirit
February 2026 | Holyrood Magazine
When Diageo announced in 2009 that it was to close the Johnnie Walker bottling plant in the Ayrshire town of Kilmarnock, it was just another blow to a local economy that had been repeatedly hit by deindustrialisation on, if you’ll pardon the pun, an industrial scale.
Once known as the light-industry capital of Scotland, from the late 1960s onwards it suffered a series of devastating blows. First, there was the closure of the surrounding coal mines, followed by the loss of a whole host of manufacturing jobs in its world-renowned carpet industry, in its engineering sector and its shoe manufacturers.
Having once been famous as the town that wove the red carpet for the late Queen Elizabeth’s wedding day in 1947, it was fast becoming infamous as an economic blackspot.
When the Massey Ferguson tractor factory which once produced in excess of 4,000 vehicles a year closed in 1980 with the loss of 1,800 jobs after production moved to France, the then local MP Willie McKelvey said in a speech in the House of Commons that the “cost in misery and humiliation” was “incalculable”.
This was closely followed by the closure of two shoemaking factories where about 1,200 workers were employed, supplying 200 branches of Saxone across the UK advertising its products as being “made of honest British leather by British workers at Kilmarnock” and went on to claim that these Kilmarnock- made shoes would last three times longer than any other brand. Notwithstanding that boast of longevity, the factory shut in the mid-1980s and was later demolished.
Read full article – Holyrood Magazine
Sarwar’s call for Starmer to go lays bare a crisis of trust
Tuesday 17th February 2026 | Marie’s Column | The Herald
Sarwar’s intervention comes as the Mandelson affair fuels rising cynicism, especially among younger voters, says Marie Macklin
Anas Sarwar’s call for Keir Starmer’s resignation was nothing if not bold. Politics can sometimes mean rolling the dice in high-stakes gambits filled with personal jeopardy, and that is what the Scottish Labour leader has done. Sarwar’s intentions are sound and his justification clear, in the midst of the scandal engulfing the prime minister and distracting attention from the pressing issues facing the country. The fact that, so far at least, fellow big hitters in the form of UK cabinet ministers have failed to match his courage does not mean that Starmer will escape the ongoing impact of the Mandelson affair.
The cast list in the fiasco which has washed over Number 10 in recent weeks is a colourful one. From Labour’s own so-called Prince of Darkness to an actual former Prince of the realm all the way through to Jeffrey Epstein himself, the enigmatic dark heart at the centre of it all.
In some ways it feels almost reminiscent of political scandals of a bygone age, like the Profumo affair which fatally damaged the Macmillan government in the 1960s. Then, as now, powerful men abused their positions in behaviour which risked or actually exposed state secrets, and then as now young women were the pawns and victims.
And while Starmer, whose dire poll ratings make him the most unpopular occupant of Number 10 in modern times, may stagger on for a while, the anticipated drubbing in May’s elections, here in Scotland and around the UK, may prove to be the final straw.
However, amid the briefing, plotting and intrigue around how and when he might be ousted and who comes next, there are much more serious and deeper questions raised by the Mandelson affair than the future of this Labour government.
At a time when public confidence in politicians and the political process is already fragile, the shocking revelations around the extent to which Mandelson betrayed the national interest in the wake of the 2008 crash, through his associations with the so-called Wolves of Wall Street, are a new low. His actions – which undoubtedly impacted the markets, resulting in businesses going to the wall, jobs lost and lives ruined – merely confirm the very worst assumptions which a huge swathe of the UK populace hold about the political class.
Those of us who have observed politics up close know that that picture is often an unfair one. As a leading member of Scotland’s business community, I have had close dealings with politicians from across the spectrum over many years and can attest that the vast majority are in it for the right reasons. But try telling that to the public today and see how far you get.
While it may be too late to change the minds of many older voters, persuading younger people that the political system isn’t fundamentally corrupt and stacked against them is surely one of the most important tasks for the future of our democracy.
However, one window onto how those younger voters are feeling offers scant hope that they can be persuaded that our political class can be trusted. The University of Glasgow’s John Smith Centre ran a focus group of younger people in the immediate aftermath of the full details of Mandelson’s involvement with Jeffrey Epstein being exposed.
The verdicts were almost universally scathing and show that with each drip of this and other scandals, the ratcheting up of cynicism, disillusionment and outright despair about the behaviour of those who govern us is plumbing new depths.
A selection of the views of just some of those 16 to 29-year-olds who responded to the focus group is instructive. One female student said: “It kind of makes you think: if he’s doing it and he’s in the House of Lords, what are the rest of them like? Obviously, there are always going to be some rotten apples but can you trust them?”
Others, though, were much less inclined to go with the bad apple explanation.
“I wasn’t surprised that something like that would come up because there’s always so much corruption in some form or another,” said another female student. “I’m just like – ‘how are we allowing these people to run our country?’ Their morals are just not there.”
Another young female student concluded: “It reminded me of the whole scandal of the Tory party in Covid and Rayner and her house. What is going on? How are they allowed to get away with it? It’s not fair.”
The focus group conclusions come after the John Smith Centre last year conducted a poll of younger voters which showed that 63 per cent of the 16 to 29 year-olds asked said they agreed that democracy was in trouble.
It is that depth of disillusionment that has led me, in partnership with the John Smith Centre to co-found a new initiative aimed at pushing back at the avalanche of cynicism.
Political Conversations was launched in Ayrshire last summer, at Kilmarnock Academy, my own former secondary school, and brought those with frontline political experience to debate, share thoughts and answer questions from an audience of senior pupils.
It was a huge success, showing that politicians from different tribes can rise above the toxicity and polarisation which has come to define our times, so much so that a follow-up event at the school was soon scheduled.
Since then, the project has expanded to visit a number of other high schools, predominantly in traditional working-class areas, as well as a visit to Holyrood to see the political process up close.
I am proud to be Co-founder of the initiative, and would urge other business leaders to pledge their support too. Because, whether you subscribe to the theory that Mandelson was just one of a very few bad apples, or that the whole system is fundamentally broken, surely we can al agree that giving inspiration and above all hope to the younger generation about the future of politics is something well worth the time and effort.
View article on The Herald website
How half-Scottish US Founding Father Alexander Hamilton helps explain half-Scottish President Donald Trump
Thursday 12th February 2026 | Marie’s Column | The Scotsman
Donald Trump’s economic nationalism draws extensively on notions that Alexander Hamilton espoused at the dawn of the American republic.
As a native of Ayrshire, I am constantly reminded of the rich contribution the region has made not just to Scottish life and culture, but also to places far beyond these shores. However, it is only recently that I have come to wonder whether the place I call home can claim a direct link to the tumultuous course of global events today under the current US administration.
When it comes to the geopolitical machinations of Donald Trump, from tariff wars to the reimagining of the Monroe Doctrine for 21st century purposes, with all the questions which that poses in terms of global security and US territorial ambitions from Venezuela to Greenland, decoding the Trump worldview has become an all-consuming pastime for many.
For some, it amounts to an exercise in detecting what they like to describe as method in the madness, whilst others conclude that there is no pattern, strategy or historical precedent which can explain how or why Trump is steering the US in its current direction of travel.
And so, where does Scotland and my corner of Ayrshire fit into this? Well, the Grange area of my hometown, Kilmarnock, and Kerelaw Castle in Stevenston, which is now a ruin, was once home to the lairds of its estate, the Hamilton family, one of whose line, Alexander Hamilton, would become a Founding Father of the United States.
Hamilton, the revered soldier statesman, man of letters and in much more recent times the subject of the Broadway musical which bears his name, is renowned for his role in shaping the young republic in the formative years of the United States and famously died as a result of a duel with his nemesis Aaron Burr in 1804, being laid to rest in at Trinity Church in Lower Manhattan, at the intersection of Wall Street and Broadway, “Where Money Never Sleeps”.
What is perhaps less well known is the esteem in which he is held by the current occupant of the White House. Whilst Trump has openly expressed his disdain for Hamilton the play, he has spoken in admiring tones of the man, declaring that Hamilton “understood that the government must protect the jobs of our citizens and the wealth of our nation.”
And so, for those many people looking for clues for what Trump might do next, they could do worse than to examine the career and writings of the Founding Father with Ayrshire roots.
Hamilton, noted for his impulsive, fiery personality, was an advocate of strong and decisive presidential rule. “Energy in the Executive,” he wrote, “is a leading character in the definition of good government,” railing against the perceived dangers of a “feeble executive”. Trump, whatever one’s views on his policies at home and abroad, has clearly embraced the Hamiltonian notion of an all-powerful executive.
When it comes to economic policy, as the very first US Secretary of the Treasury under George Washington, Hamilton is sometimes afforded the title of father of American capitalism. And in his contributions to the Federalist Papers, he set out his theories on the importance, as he saw it, of the United States achieving full economic independence from the Old World.
His Report on the Subject of Manufactures, submitted to Congress in 1791, was a foundational document that outlined Hamilton’s economic nationalism and laid the basis for much of US economic and trading policy for generations after it was written. It was also a paper which advocated tariffs and other protectionist measures.
The debate about whether policies designed at the dawn of the 19th century remain viable in the 21st is an open question, but the lesson is clear: Trump is familiar with the Hamilton worldview and has sought to repackage it today for his own purposes.
Trump’s economic nationalism draws extensively on the notions that Hamilton and others like him espoused at the dawn of the American republic.
Hamilton’s economic views were based around ensuring that manufacturing and domestic industrial capacity was sufficient to ensure the US was entirely independent of other nations when it came to the supply of military and other essential goods. Trump, in his first term and now once more, has sought to apply that same principle.
Hamilton warned against any need for America to be dependent on European nations for vital materials. If today you were to substitute the word China for Europe, you start to get a feel for how closely Trump’s policies draw on the Hamilton precedent.
The echoes are everywhere. Hamilton was a powerful advocate of building the US’s maritime capacity, promoting domestic shipbuilding to provide vessels for the nascent US Navy. Similarly, one of Trump’s executive orders has been aimed at prioritising shipbuilding and, in his own words, restoring America’s maritime dominance.
When it came to foreign policy, it could be argued that Hamilton’s approach was neither wholly interventionist not isolationist. But he believed that, in specific circumstances, America should seek to intervene in cases where those in foreign lands were seeking to thwart despotism. American Presidents down the ages have embraced that creed to varying degrees, with equally varying degrees of justification. Trump’s iteration is merely the latest version of it.
When Trump first arrived in the White House nine years ago, he ensured a portrait of Hamilton was hung prominently in the Oval Office. It hangs there again now, underlining the esteem in which the Founding Father is held by the 45th and 47th President. Whether that admiration would have been reciprocated is another matter. But for those looking for some explanation as to what is driving US trade, economic and foreign policy today, perhaps Ayrshire and Hamilton hold the key.
View article on The Scotsman website