Throughout my two terms in Parliament there were persistent rumours of chunks of masonry falling off the Palace of Westminster. The clock tower was reportedly in danger of toppling into the Thames. On a new members’ horror tour of the underground labyrinth, I saw electric cables, water pipes and heating ducts squeezed together in Victorian crevices. The digital infrastructure of the last thirty years had then been crudely stuffed into every remaining gap, and muddy water covered parts of the basement where it dips below the waterline. It was abundantly clear that something had to be done, and urgently.
That was in 2015.
Eleven years later, as MPs have returned from their long summer recess, the prospect of any real progress is, at best, doubtful.
‘Restoration & Renewal’ is the project which aims to stop the Palace crumbling away or burning down, as well as to create a properly-functioning building for a modern parliament. Arguments about the costs and logistics abound, but they often ignore real questions about the impact the various options might have on the workings of the legislature, the executive and the wider state machine. Does it matter if one or both Houses leave the building for ten, fifteen or twenty years while the work is carried out, or would their absence represent a fundamental threat to our democratic and constitutional processes?
The facts & figures
The project has now reached the point at which Parliament is being asked, not for the first time, to make some fairly substantial decisions. The latest formal publication is the Restoration and Renewal Annual Progress Report 2026, published in July, but the document that really matters is the prosaically-named Client Board’s Costed Proposals, released in February. That report narrowed the field to two options: a ‘full decant’, under which both Houses would leave the Palace during the main works; and ‘enhanced maintenance and improvement plus’, or EMI+, under which their Lordships leave but MPs remain and everyone works around them. The proposed programme begins, in either case, with seven years of preparatory work, currently estimated at £3 billion, with a final decision on the preferred delivery option due no later than mid-2030.
The financial difference between the two options is considerable. The Client Board’s February estimate puts the cost of full decant at £8.4 – £11.5 billion, compared with £11.8 – £18.7 billion for EMI+; those figures exclude inflation. The National Audit Office subsequently presented higher figures, £11.1 – £15.6 billion for full decant and £19.5 – £39.2 billion for EMI+, because it includes estimated inflation and other contingencies. The full decant option would take considerably less time: 19 – 24 years rather than 38 – 61 years.
On 2 July, the Leader of the House, Sir Alan Campbell, told MPs that he hoped to bring forward a motion ‘shortly’ to allow the Commons to have a ‘long overdue debate’ on the next steps. He acknowledged that although there is broad agreement on the need for restoration, there is not yet consensus on how it should be done. Then as recently as 3 September, when questioned by the Shadow Leader about the delay, Sir Alan told him ‘he should not assume that he will have to wait that much longer for this House to be given the opportunity to make a decision’. No such debate is yet scheduled.
The full decant option
There is no constitutional principle which says the Commons or Lords has to sit at the Palace of Westminster. So it is that the full decant option proposes that the Commons moves to the so-called ‘northern estate’ with a chamber at Richmond House, and the Lords to the QEII Conference Centre, while work on the Palace is carried out. (Or maybe they could all move to ‘Parliament North’, to follow the current trend?). Either way, the legislative process and formal business would carry on largely as now. What’s much harder to capture is everything that happens around the edges, and that’s where the peculiar geography of Westminster becomes constitutionally significant.
The Palace of Westminster is an ecosystem. Ministers, civil servants, MPs, peers, journalists, party officials, campaigners and staff all mingle under the same, albeit crumbling roof. People meet each other and things get done because they are all there. A backbench MP encounters a Minister and solves a constituent’s problem. A cabinet member speaks to a peer and eases the passage of a Bill. A journalist learns information which enables them to better hold the government to account. None of these things is a formal constitutional process, and yet they’re a vital part of our democracy.
That’s why we should be suspicious of the idea that there are no constitutional implications of a full decant. Of course you can reconstruct the chambers, offices and committee rooms elsewhere: a good supply of MDF and some green or red faux leather will do the job. But what’s much more difficult to reproduce is the sheer density of interaction created by having all the constituent parts of our political world in one place. Whether it’s healthy that important decisions rely on chance meetings in corridors is another matter entirely: that’s just how it works. And it would all be lost, so the argument goes, if MPs, peers and their entire infrastructure were scattered across disparate buildings around SW1.
The strength of the argument for a full decant can’t be denied. On every measure it would be relatively cheaper and quicker. It’s also the safer option, since the Grade I listed Palace almost certainly contains large amounts of asbestos which would be exposed during the works. The question is how to balance the obvious risks with the less tangible yet very real threats to the operation of the whole machine.
The EMI+ option
Under full decant, both the Commons and the Lords would leave the Palace. By contrast, under EMI+, Peers would go elsewhere for eight to thirteen years, while MPs remain where they are, apart from a temporary move into the Lords’ chamber.
But EMI+ is not a constitutionally risk-free alternative. Its attraction is obvious: the Commons remains in the Palace for most of the programme, apparently preserving the existing environment. But the current estimate is that EMI+ could take as long as 60 years. That means generations of MPs and staff living with disruption and operating around construction works for an indefinite period, rather than leaving for a theoretically set time and returning to a shiny, nearly-new Palace.
And EMI+ doesn’t address the fundamental challenge that the two Houses would still physically be in different places. Does it matter whether the Commons remains in the Palace if the Lords are to be elsewhere anyway? Both arrangements are operationally possible; the constitutional question is whether prolonged physical separation might harm the relationship between the two Houses. Much work to ease the passage of legislation is done through easy or spontaneous collaboration between the red and green ends of the Palace. Neither of the options on the table preserves this ‘two chambers, one building’ status quo; at least a full decant separates them for a shorter period, in theory.
There is another danger with EMI+. Britain has a peculiar talent for constitutional evolution by accident: a temporary arrangement becomes normalised, conventions develop around it, and eventually everyone forgets it was never meant to be permanent. The longer timescale with EMI+ compared with full decant would make those risks very real. Restoration and Renewal could become a long-term constitutional project without anyone intending it to be so.
Conclusion
The constitutional question is ultimately more important than the architectural one, and arguably more pertinent than even than the costs. The Palace of Westminster is an extraordinary building and an important symbol of parliamentary democracy, but it is not Parliament. The state will continue to function whichever option is chosen; ministers will govern, the two Houses will scrutinise and MPs and Lords will debate.
The real test is whether, under either of the options, Parliament can preserve the informal connections which are so effective at greasing the wheels of our democracy. The Palace can be emptied for a while and one or both Houses can sit somewhere else. But the Westminster ecosystem cannot simply be boxed up and put into storage in the hope that nothing’s broken when it’s eventually unpacked.
There’s one final aspect which perhaps is too often overlooked: history. During my time in the House, we had one significant vote on whether to pursue the full decant option. I voted Aye, on the basis that my scary tour of the building’s underbelly had convinced me we were all doomed. But it led to a significant falling-out with a senior parliamentary colleague. He contended that if MPs ever left the Palace of Westminster, they would never return. Centuries of history would be swept aside. The iconic building, such a potent symbol of power and democracy, would likely become a hotel and conference centre, and the House of Commons would be moved to an industrial estate on the outskirts of Leeds. I had been duped by the modernisers and property developers, he said.
I dismissed the argument at the time, and largely still do. But there is something in the thought that Parliament, our constitution and our democracy are all wrapped up in that extraordinary gothic edifice.Whatever the options, that, surely, is worth preserving.
Peter Heaton-Jones.
Peter Heaton-Jones was MP for North Devon 2015-2019 and served as parliamentary private secretary in two government departments. He now works in public affairs.
The Constitution Society is committed to the promotion of informed debate and is politically impartial. Any views expressed in this article are the personal views of the author and not those of The Constitution Society.