In five months' time, Danny Alexander's Westminster career might very well be finished. If Scotland votes yes to independence in September, Alexander will be out of a job, for his Highlands constituency will effectively cease to exist. However, it's also entirely possible that 13 months from now he will be the Liberal Democrats' new leader. If his party fails to secure a second term of coalition government, Clegg will go, and Alexander is hotly tipped to be his successor. Both scenarios feel faintly incredible but no more so, perhaps, than the fact that he is currently second-in-command of the nation's finances. Only five years before he was made chief secretary to the Treasury, Alexander had been a press officer for the Cairngorms. It's hard to think of any other politician who has rocketed to the top so dramatically, and yet made so little personal impression upon the public consciousness.
How did he do it? It's been puzzling me for years. But now that I've met him, I think I can see why Nick Clegg and David Cameron are so keen to have him around. By temperament, Alexander appears almost freakishly well suited to coalition politics. He radiates an air of dependable calm, which must be a joy for colleagues accustomed to dealing with tantrums and psychodramas, and is attributed by admirers to a laudable absence of ego. His critics, on the other hand, say he's only easy to work with because he has no burning principles. Either way, one unfortunate side effect seems to be a horror of saying anything bold. He's happy to deliver asinine platitudes with great conviction "I believe strongly in universities" but whenever he says anything really interesting he looks panicky, and quickly tries to backpedal. This may work well for him in cabinet, but I don't think he realises how boring it makes him look to the public.
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