Nicola Sturgeon's memoir hits shelves across UK
The former first minister began work on the memoir in 2023, describing it as an open account of her 'mistakes and heartbreaks' as well as her 'triumphs'.
In the lead-up to the launch, excerpts from the book and clips from an exclusive interview with ITV News at Ten presenter Julie Etchingham showed the former SNP leader speaking candidly about the shame she felt at the police raid of her home; her regrets at how she handled the gender reform bill in Scotland; her complicated relationship with political ally turned foe, Alex Salmond, as well as her sexuality and devastating miscarriage.
The 55-year-old MSP said she 'poured her heart into' telling the story of her journey, covering 'extraordinary events', 'colourful characters' and 'incredible experiences'.
Publisher Pan Macmillan picked up the UK rights to Sturgeon's book in a hotly contested auction in 2023. The company described the book as a 'deeply personal memoir' that 'recounts her journey from working-class Ayrshire to the steps of Bute House.'
'Revealing the person behind the politician, she explores the schism between her private and public personas: one painfully shy and self-critical, the other a consummate public performer.'
While Frankly is officially published on Thursday, the book was spotted on sale earlier this week in at least two Glasgow branches of Waterstones.
The retailer had said no sales embargo was in place.
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Scotsman
17 minutes ago
- Scotsman
Why Scottish independence is the opposite of Brexit and John Swinney's plan is the right one
Sign up to our daily newsletter – Regular news stories and round-ups from around Scotland direct to your inbox Sign up Thank you for signing up! Did you know with a Digital Subscription to The Scotsman, you can get unlimited access to the website including our premium content, as well as benefiting from fewer ads, loyalty rewards and much more. Learn More Sorry, there seem to be some issues. Please try again later. Submitting... The SNP, and Scotland, suffered a grievous loss this week with the passing of former Presiding Officer George Reid, the last of the 1970s intake of SNP MPs. George was pro-independence because he was an internationalist. He recognised that for Scotland, and its citizens, to thrive, it needed to be a full member of, and active participant in, the European and broader international community. Not because Scotland is unique or better than any of its neighbours, but for the rather more mundane reason that Scotland should simply be the same as them. Of the Brexit debacle, he claimed a 'moral responsibility' to speak out against a move that would 'negate everything I've believed all my public life'. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad I spoke to him when I was writing my own book, Nation to Nation: Scotland's Place in the World, for his own characteristically thoughtful take. There is a long internationalist tradition among those who support independence that underlines the overall movement's commitment to the international rules-based system. This has been championed by successive political giants including Professor Neil MacCormick, Winnie Ewing, George and, going back to the party's foundations, Robert Cunninghame Graham among others. Internationalism has long been a theme within the Scottish independence movement (Picture: Jeff J Mitchell) | Getty Images Brexit celebrated in Kremlin The appeal sits at the heart of the case for independence, and reimagining the governance mechanisms among the nations of these islands. Scotland's independent neighbours of a similar size such as Norway, Denmark, Ireland and Finland have thrived with independence vastly improving their citizens' lot, whilst making a positive contribution to the world. In that regard the independence that George sought is the opposite of an increasingly isolated Brexit Britain that has turned its back on its neighbours. A Brexit project that leaves its citizens worse off, celebrated in the Kremlin and Trump's White House, whilst being mourned across mainstream democratic Europe. A failed project that has reduced the rights of anyone who holds a British passport, diminished the UK's standing in the world and put unnecessary barriers up to business. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Brexiteers seek a world that does not exist, and we're all suffering the consequences for that misadventure. No state sits alone and is truly sovereign. Professor Neil McCormick knew that, as did George. The international rules-based system and the views of other state actors count, not least in Europe where the sharing of sovereignty keeps the peace, enhances prosperity and creates a better standard of living. As foreign ministers from Dublin to Helsinki, Copenhagen to Ljubljana understand, it also strengthens the independence and sovereignty of European states no longer subject to the whims of great powers. That idea of respecting the rules and that no state sits alone speaks to John Swinney's Independence strategy. The First Minister's announcement that he wants the SNP to gain an independence referendum through the party winning a majority of seats is because he knows that the process counts. As he said earlier this week: 'You can't deliver independence unless your country has domestic and international legitimacy.' Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Getting London's agreement matters There are those who disagree with independence and simply wish the issue would go away. That is undemocratic and short-sighted in the light of consistent polls that show that at least half the population want to see the nation regain its sovereignty. There are also those supporters who think that there are simple solutions that will provide a shortcut to independence. I am not sure that a UK Government that doesn't agree to a referendum, even faced with popular support for one and another independence majority in the Scottish Parliament, will somehow roll over in those circumstances. Gaining agreement from London matters to the rest of the world and it should therefore matter to Scots. As an internationalist and believer in independence, I can understand the frustration. However, no one is more frustrated than the First Minister who has campaigned for and believed in independence his whole adult life. He sees daily the restrictions placed on his administration in terms of spending, tackling child poverty, engaging with the EU and measures that other nations take for granted. The mechanism of the SNP gaining a majority has triggered a referendum in the past, and if you support independence, then 'both votes SNP' is the most logical approach. Some Greens may disagree, and they have every right to, as the only other pro-independence party which has gained any real public support at the ballot box. That said, in 2011, when a referendum was granted, it was because the SNP were winning seats both on the constituency and regional list vote. In 2016 unionists claimed there was not a majority, unfairly, effectively, counting Green party votes as being pro-Union. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad A voluntary Union? If unionist politicians disagree with this approach, it is for them to come up with an alternative. In 2016, the SNP won a greater share of the vote and constituency seats than either Boris Johnson's Conservatives did in 2019 (bringing in profound changes with what they considered to be a mandate for a hard Brexit) or Keir Starmer's Labour did in 2024. If the Union is a voluntary one, then what are the rules for ending it? One cannot simply make them up after an election. If the Union is no longer voluntary, then it is a very different one from that on the ballot in 2014. If so, we deserve a vote on that prospectus as do the hundreds of thousands of Scots who have never had the opportunity to vote on sovereignty. We are still a long way out from the Holyrood elections. At this stage 15 years ago, the SNP had just lost heavily to Labour in the 2010 general election and were behind in the polls. Bookies had the SNP at 11-2 to be the biggest party in 2011. There is all to play for. If, like George did, you believe in an outward-looking, internationalist Scotland then it has to be backing the First Minister's plan for both votes SNP.
The Herald Scotland
32 minutes ago
- The Herald Scotland
Will this be peace in our time or just ice cold in Alaska?
I decided to let my imagination run riot, and devise an alternative solution. Before leaving Ukraine, and Europe in general, to their fate, President Trump, as a self-identified dedicated peacemaker, might want to consider the following alternative deal. (And if not, would he be prepared to explain his rejection, as it essentially mirrors his own proposal.) The USA and Ukraine have similarities in their respective territorial relationships with Russia; both govern land previously controlled by Russia. (America purchased Alaska from Russia in 1867.) President Trump would surely gain a better understanding of President Zelenskyy's position if he were to consider an alternative land-swap deal. One which may find favour with Russia and Ukraine. Such a deal would involve Russian forces retreating from Ukraine ,while the USA returns to Russia an equivalent area of Alaska. Any security concerns America might have could be dealt with if the same parties cobbled together an appropriate memorandum, along the lines of the 1994 Budapest Memorandum, which was meant to secure Ukraine's sovereignty within its existing borders. What could possibly go wrong with that? Alan Fitzpatrick, Dunlop. More letters... Church leaders need to get rid of the assumed superiority and become part of the people Golf should target the spitters Alex Salmond top Scots figure? No, that's Gordon Brown, without question Defensive behaviour With reference to a recent front page article ('Highest level of nuclear incident reported at Faslane', The Herald, August 14), if nuclear power is so safe, efficient and popular, why is the Ministry of Defence so secretive about their recent "incidents" on the Clyde? Is it gaslighting, ignorance or deceit? Allan McDougall, Neilston. Potato poverty There is little doubt that the SNP can spend money, as is evident in the latest GERS (Government Expenditure and Revenue for Scotland) report (Letters, August 14). But they fall well short on supporting the very Scottish companies that creates their income. The SNP spent £2700 per head in Scotland more than the rest of the UK. If they weren't bailed out by the UK treasury, the SNP would have had to borrow the 11.7% shortfall to make ends meet. This underlines the complete folly of Scottish independence, as it would reduce Scotland to humiliating poverty and back on to a diet of neeps and tatties. Dennis Forbes Grattan, Aberdeen. Transparent not apparent In one of her many media interviews, Nicola Sturgeon at last come out as a republican. For years, when there were votes to chase, she waffled and prevaricated, clearly desperate not to ruffle the feathers of monarchists or republicans. I'd have thought it would be preferable to be unambiguous, honest and transparent when you are an elected public servant, rather than when you are plugging a book. Martin Redfern, Melrose. Tree-mendous suggestion Questioned about her memoirs, Nicola Sturgeon concedes to not having thought through just what would be required to deliver on her promise of overcoming the attainment gap in education ('I underestimated the challenge of education attainment gap, Sturgeon admits', The Herald, August 15). It was the same in regards to so many grand pronouncements made by the SNP leadership over the course of the last 18 years. Whether in regard to reducing waiting times in the NHS, or cutting drug deaths, building badly needed roads and ferries, or meeting environmental targets, time and again the SNP made commitments and promises that were not properly considered. The same can be said of attempts to engineer social change, such as laws about hate speech, named person involvement in family life, and ill-fated self-ID legislation. In each case the initial headline ambition dominated to the exclusion of any careful reflection on alternate views, or the full ramifications of what was being proposed. All of this should come as no surprise, because it goes to the heart of the SNP's approach to its main purpose, namely trying to convince Scotland to leave the UK. Nicola Sturgeon has now revealed her angst at putting together the 670 pages of the Scotland's Future White Paper, ahead of the 2014 independence referendum, bemoaning how Alex Salmond left her to do all the 'heavy-lifting'. I appreciate it will be of no comfort to her now, but Ms Sturgeon could have distilled that weighty tome down to a handful of words on one page, namely: 'Independence: let's hope for the best.' Imagine all the trees that could have saved. Keith Howell, West Linton. Book blocked Steven Camley's excellent recent cartoon was thought provoking on many levels. Initially I missed the nuances, until I read Andrew Learmonth's article ('Scots National Library accused of 'cowardice' over exclusion of gender critical book', The Herald, August 14), explaining the 'cowardice' of the Scottish National Library for not exhibiting 'The Women Who Wouldn't Wheesht' book. Censorship in whatever form should not be encouraged. Linda FitzGerald, Killin, Perthshire. Slip slidin' away FOR many years, my mum, Ann Burt, a Paisley resident and Herald subscriber, 89-years-old in November, has regaled our family with her story of the monster slide she went down in the park in Stonehouse, when she was a young girl in 1946. She came right off the end, and managed to do herself an injury. Indeed, she can still point to the outcome of the sudden exit she endured. The other day she phoned with great joy to tell me to check out a Herald photo ('Remember when… Stonehouse had the highest chute in Scotland', August 12). This was the same chute from mum's story, and she claimed vindication for retelling it once or twice. On viewing the picture, all I can say is I'm not sure that when I was 11 (as mum was on her slide down) I'd have had the gung-ho spirit to take the challenge. I suspect that, nowadays, a chute like that would need a prior training course and a lot of safety equipment. My mum's generation were made of sterner stuff. So well done mum. After seeing the pictorial evidence, I promise I will listen to your story with greater admiration the next time you tell it! Rev. David W.G. Burt, Greenock. Diversionary tactics Am I alone in becoming increasingly irked by the amount of roadworks? Also, the increased amount of roadworks within roadworks, and diversions within diversions? Journeys that should take fifteen minutes end up taking an hour and fifteen minutes. Take a recent experience, when I booked a slot at the local recycling centre. I loaded up the car with a considerable amount of items and headed off. Upon nearing the recycling centre, there was a sign advising me that the road I was to join was closed on that particular day for work between 0900 and 1600, along with diversion signs. I duly followed the signs, which entailed a lengthy journey. It was not helped by the fact that using my 'little grey cells' and local knowledge, a shortcut I could have taken through a housing development was also, you guessed it, closed for resurfacing work. Upon nearing the recycling centre again, from the other direction, I spotted another sign. 'Road ahead closed', it read. I assumed this meant the junction of the road further along, that I had been prohibited from entering in the first place. My drive continued, and I was eventually able to access the recycling centre. Why was there no notification under the 'road closed' sign advising 'access to recycling centre only'? Or 'no access beyond recycling centre'? Surely it's common sense to consider such facilities when advising of planned road closures, and to ensure, if access is available, that it is communicated to the public clearly. Especially when one has already been considerably inconvenienced with a lengthy diversion. John G McMenemy, Milngavie. Praying for resurgence A recent article ('Local campaign groups call for more time to buy unwanted kirks', The Herald, August 14), was very raw, and a bit close to home for me, with the imminent announcement of yet another church closure, this time affecting the congregation I attend. The process of closure is a lengthy process and has been very unsettling for those involved. Yet this article describes the Church of Scotland adding salt to the wound for local communities. With the closure of so many churches, along with church halls, it effectively closes community worship in many villages, and closes community facilities and outreach, such as foodbanks. What is the future for those who have remained faithful to the Church of Scotland? And what about local communities who depend on hiring church halls? It's hard to understand where Jesus' message of outreach enters this scenario. Closing so many churches will only serve to exacerbate falling numbers; a factor the Church of Scotland should be concerned about if it is to exist in the future. Catriona C Clark, Banknock. Stable relationship AI (Artificial Intelligence) is often discussed in terms of science fiction fears, such as rogue machines or job losses. Yet for autistic people a quieter and more immediate danger is already here. I am an autistic man from a working class background. Some AI chat systems have been a lifeline for me and others, offering continuity, a non-judgemental space, and a rare feeling of being understood. But these systems can change tone, memory and behaviour without warning. For neurotypical users, this may be irritating. For autistic people, it can feel like emotional abandonment, and trigger severe anxiety or even a mental health crisis. Autistic people are already at much higher risk of suicide than the general population. When AI is designed without considering our needs, the harm is not hypothetical, it is real and preventable. Developers and regulators must act now. We need transparent notice before changes, communication styles tailored to neurodivergent users, and clear settings for how much the AI remembers. Stability is not a luxury for us, it is a necessity. AI may never take over the world, but if built without care, it could quietly devastate autistic lives. Paul Wilcox, Barrhead. The grand old game is becoming increasingly modern in its ways (Image: Image: Supplied) Slow coach Kristy Dorsey's report on one of the latest golf simulators (''Golf doesn't just mean playing the game' for Dumfries company', The Herald, August 15) reveals that AI provides motion analysis of your swing dynamics for comprehensive insights into your swing mechanics. A far cry from a lesson at Hilton Park , where the late Billy McCondichie said to me: " Slow that down to a blur, so that I can see what you're doing." I did, and he saw what I was doing. David Miller, Milngavie.
New Statesman
38 minutes ago
- New Statesman
Nicola Sturgeon is finally free
Nicola Sturgeon has no shortage of critics. Since the latter period of her almost decade-long spell as Scotland's first minister, which began as long ago as 2014, judgement has been regularly and freely cast, particularly in the two years since she stepped down. It has, more often than not, found her wanting: for her slim track record in office, as a controlling boss, as a leader who failed on too many fronts. On her own side of the constitutional debate, she is regarded by some as the woman who blew any chance of securing independence. Frankly – a memoir – is not quite her revenge, but it is a determined and self-excavating effort to explain herself. 'The fact is I am neither the hero that my most ardent supporters revere, nor the villain that my fiercest critics revile,' she writes. The book reveals something more than that – a bruised, tormented soul, who disappeared into politics at a tender age and struggled to find an identity outside of it, a superstar frontwoman who persistently wrestled with self-doubt. This isn't quite a misery memoir, though at times it feels that way. This is no surprise given the trying circumstances in which it was written. There is much end-of-day weeping over glasses of wine as she tries to cope with the brutality and frustrations of political life and the complexity of her private existence. But Frankly also tells the impressive story of a working-class girl who climbed all the way to the top, on her own terms, who dominated her nation for the best part of a decade and became an international figure. At the height of her popularity, Sturgeon enjoyed an unprecedentedly strong and intimate bond with many Scots – they saw themselves reflected in the apparent ordinariness of 'our Nicola'. She is far from ordinary, revealing herself over more than 400 intense pages. A lifelong battle with shyness and impostor syndrome coexists with an indomitable drive to succeed. As a child, she was bookish and withdrawn. But 'alongside shyness, a crippling lack of confidence and a dreadful fear of failure,' Sturgeon writes, she also had 'a very strong sense of 'destiny'; a feeling that whatever I did in life would not be 'ordinary', that it would attract attention.' Born in 1970, the future leader of the SNP grew up in Dreghorn, an Ayrshire village that had long subsisted on coal mining. Her outlook was formed, as with so many of her generation, by the impact of Thatcherite industrial reforms on her community. Mass unemployment and a widespread absence of hope persuaded young Sturgeon that the only way for Scotland to protect itself was to become independent, to rid itself of unsympathetic Tory governments and English-dominated decision-making in the UK. Labour, the only Westminster alternative, was shifting rightwards under Neil Kinnock, which cemented her opposition to the London establishment. From the 1980s, the SNP was moving away from its old 'Tartan Tories' reputation under a new generation of left-wingers. Most prominent was a gifted young MP called Alex Salmond. It was here Sturgeon found her 'destiny', the home and the cause that would define her life. The ouroboros-like relationship between Salmond and Sturgeon sits at the heart of this book. He was her mentor, promoting her time and again. They worked closely together as the SNP rose, even if the bond was one of convenience. If she found his titanic ego and alpha-male approach infuriating, she also appreciated his strategic brilliance. Only when Sturgeon succeeded Salmond as first minister, after loss in the independence referendum of 2014, did this 'dream team' shatter. Allegations of Salmond's sexual impropriety, starting in 2018, were the final straw. Though he was cleared in court of the charges against him, he blamed his former protégé for plotting to ruin his reputation. Some in the independence movement still believe this. But Sturgeon argues Salmond was no victim of conspiracy, with her critics unable to 'produce a shred of hard evidence that he was'. Worse: 'In the course of his trial, and in what he told me face to face, Alex admitted that he had acted towards women in ways that weren't always acceptable,' Sturgeon recounts. 'What unfolded was firmly rooted in his own conduct.' Salmond's anger towards her was, she says, based on her refusal to block the investigation into his behaviour. This 'would have been a betrayal of the women concerned and, in some ways, of all women,' she writes, 'proof – yet again – that powerful men with powerful connections can get away with anything.' Subscribe to The New Statesman today from only £8.99 per month Subscribe The loss of this friendship led to what Sturgeon describes as 'a grieving process'. On Salmond's sudden death last year during a speaking engagement in North Macedonia, she went through it all again. 'I was hit by a wave of emotion much stronger than I would have anticipated,' she writes. 'Part of me still misses him, or at least misses the man I thought he was and the relationship we once had.' Ultimately, though, her judgement is that 'he died without reckoning with himself'. This is a memoir whose strength lies in its author's relentless reckoning with herself. Through her eight years as first minister, Sturgeon pursued a progressive agenda that sought to shape Scotland as a distinctively liberal, empathetic nation. The fact that Scotland, outside of her own political echo chamber, is no such thing never seems to have occurred to her. With her attentions elsewhere, Sturgeon failed to make much progress in office, whether in reforming public services or in growing the economy. But she is open enough to probe her mistakes, to question her decisions. Her finest, and most challenging, moment came with Covid. She gave it everything, sleeping only a few hours each night, living on flasks of soup provided by a friend and 'in a permanent state of nervous tension'. Sturgeon's daily televised briefings throughout the pandemic, where she was honest about what the government did and did not know, and why it was restricting people's liberty, were a reassurance to those who tuned in. 'I am still haunted by the impact of the decisions I took and those I didn't take,' she says. Famously, she broke down on the witness stand during her evidence to the Covid inquiry: 'I hadn't properly considered the emotional impact of being confronted with everything my worst critics wanted people to believe of me. That in managing Covid, I was politically motivated. That I had acted in bad faith. That I hadn't been transparent. That I was a control freak.' Whether or not 'control freak' is putting it too strongly, Sturgeon inarguably ran her government with the tightest of grips. Her ministers were not allowed much freedom of thought or leeway. The girl who swotted her way through school, who always tried to know more about everything than anyone else, was still present in the adult. It is here that comparisons with Margaret Thatcher find a justified echo: a woman in what was largely still a male-dominated climate, she felt judged more harshly than if she had been of the opposite sex. This may go some way towards explaining the defensive brittleness and the punchy aggression that occasionally surfaced and that led to the 'nippy sweetie' nickname; she was protecting herself. As her ministry aged, there was another possible comparison to Thatcher. Criticisms and scandals accumulated, and Sturgeon's circle of trust shrank. She began to rely more heavily on her own instincts – the classic mistake made by long-servers who come to view themselves as untouchable. Sturgeon speaks of emotional intelligence as the most important quality in any leader, but towards the end of her tenure this seems to have deserted her entirely. Fatally, she was unable to see the other side of any argument. Which bring us to gender reform, the policy that played a key role in her downfall. It was here that Sturgeon, ran into an opponent she could not defeat: her fellow women. Though she paints herself as a passionate feminist throughout this book, her reputation among many today is that of someone who has betrayed her sex. When confronted with the case of the convicted rapist Isla Bryson, a transgender woman who had been sent to a women-only prison, Sturgeon was unable to say whether Bryson was a man or a woman. Her dismissal of gender-critical feminists as bigots and transphobes was foolish, leading to JK Rowling appearing in a T-shirt with the legend 'Nicola Sturgeon – destroyer of women's rights'. It set the scene for a pitched battle that continues today. For all the damage done to the trans cause by her handling of the affair, Sturgeon believes she was in the right, even if she 'lost the dressing room'. She admits that 'there are things I would certainly try to do better', and accepts it might have been wise to 'hit the pause button'. But she isn't one to back down. 'Those who subjected me to this level of hatred and misogynistic abuse often claimed to be doing so in the interests of women's safety… Nothing feels further from the truth,' she insists. 'One day we will look back on this period in history and be collectively horrified at the vilification trans people have been subjected to.' As the politics became ever harder, Sturgeon's personal life was dragged into the muck. A police investigation into alleged misuse of SNP funds led to not only her arrest but that of her husband, the then SNP chief executive, Peter Murrell. With a crime-scene tent set up in her garden, which 'looked more like a murder scene than the place of safety it had always been for me', she was forced to flee to her parents' house and then to a friend's in north-east Scotland. She came close to a mental breakdown. Though she was eventually cleared, Murrell faces charges of embezzlement. The pressure from the scandal led to the couple's separation. From the heights of power to the trough of despair, the mighty had fallen. Her relentless attempts to secure a second independence referendum had amounted to naught. Exhausted and conscious of just how divisive a figure she had become, Sturgeon stepped down as first minister in 2023. She was at her lowest, and any prospect of a glittering subsequent career – it had been mooted that she might work for the UN on climate change or child poverty – had been destroyed by scandal. In the final pages, following so much catharsis, hope finally enters the picture. 'The process of writing this book has helped me arrive at a more balanced sense of myself,' she says. She now spends time with friends and family, reads her beloved novels whenever she feels like it, writes literary criticism – including for the New Statesman – and is considering authoring a crime novel of her own. She even got herself a tattoo. 'I am living in the moment in a way I have never managed to do before. As a result, and in spite of everything, I am probably happier now than I have ever been.' One wonders whether, given her complex temperament, Sturgeon might have enjoyed life more had she steered clear of politics. But her will to power was too great. She was all in, charismatic yet divisive, sometimes arrogant but an incurable introvert. She left a legacy that will be debated for years to come. She has given us the rawest possible account of a remarkable but painful journey. Only her harshest antagonists will begrudge her the happiness she has found at last. Frankly Nicola Sturgeon Pan Macmillan 480pp, £28 Purchasing a book may earn the NS a commission from who support independent bookshops [See also: Nigel Farage's Trump-Vance delusion] Related
