Nicola Sturgeon’s Frankly Is No Memoir, more A Self-Pitying Rewrite Of A Wasted Decade

There was a revealing moment in Nicola Sturgeon’s BBC2 interview with Adam Fleming last night. Revealing not because Fleming skewered her with tough questions — he didn’t — but because the whole thing was an exercise in soft-soaping. The BBC, usually keen to posture as fearless inquisitors, seemed to decide that Sturgeon deserved a primetime sympathy session. No forensic interrogation, just a velvet cushion for her to peddle her memoirs.

And what Frankly revealed is exactly what many of us suspected: it isn’t autobiography, it’s airbrushing. It’s Sturgeon trying to re-stitch her reputation before the historical record finally sets in concrete.

We keep hearing about her “golden legacy.” Let’s be blunt: she squandered it. She inherited an SNP at the height of its power, with a unionist opposition in total chaos, Brexit about to convulse Westminster, and support for independence supposedly within reach. And what did she achieve with all that? Absolutely nothing. The Union stands, Brexit was delivered, and the SNP is a husk compared to the disciplined machine she inherited. Some “legacy.”

Yes, she racked up electoral wins. But given the state of the opposition, a dog in a yellow rosette could have walked it. She sent 56 MPs to Westminster and still managed to walk away empty-handed. Northern Ireland bagged concessions on Brexit with fewer MPs and less leverage. Scotland got nothing. That’s not political genius, that’s political impotence.

Her “policy hits” don’t impress either. Baby boxes? A Finnish import dressed up for Instagram. The Scottish Child Payment? An idea she originally rubbished when Alex Neil suggested it years earlier, before dusting it off later and slapping her name on it. Meanwhile, ferries lie unfinished, schools are sliding, the NHS is on its knees, and £600k of indyref cash vanished while her husband faces charges. That’s the legacy she doesn’t want written down.

So, instead of owning up, she goes for the cheap option: battering Salmond’s reputation. Bigot, leaker, confessor-by-proxy — she throws every insult at him she can, knowing full well he’s not around to swing back. Even drags up whether he read a White Paper cover to cover, as if anyone outside a debating society gives a toss. It’s playground stuff, not statesmanship.

And the funniest part? Some folk are already lapping it up. Colleagues in the commentariat are cooing about her “personal journey” like it’s some kind of inspirational Netflix doc. It’s not. It’s a political wash cycle. Same dirty laundry, just spun faster. But that’s the “woke” wing all over — mistaking self-pity for substance.

The hard truth is simple: Nicola Sturgeon wasted the best shot her party ever had. She divided her own side with gender dogma, blew her credibility on indyref2 that never came, and walked away without warning. The Union survives, Brexit is a done deal, and the SNP is broken.

Frankly isn’t a memoir. It’s the bitter ballad of wasted years, sung off-key by a leader who still can’t admit she blew it.