Holyrood sketch

A GOOD dictionary will tell you consensus is defined as "agreement of various parts; agreement in opinion; unanimity". At Holyrood, it's not half as fancy. It just means they've all stopped shouting.

You can spot consensus, equally, in those occasional did-I-just-hear-that? moments. As in: "Did I just hear Jack McConnell thanking Tommy Sheridan?" Yesterday - do not adjust your preconceptions - that's exactly what we heard.

Another clue to a sudden outbreak of consensus is when politicians promise to desist from "political point-scoring". How does that work, exactly? What is a politician if not someone who makes political points? And who keeps score? This isn't University Challenge, mercifully.

There was every reason for a truce yesterday, however. The MSP who decided to misbehave during a discussion of airguns and their victims would have sounded like a drunk in church.

The mother of Andrew Morton, the little boy killed by one of the weapons, was in the gallery at Sheridan's invitation. Our representatives can be crass but they are human, too, mostly. No-one had to tell them to be on their best behaviour.

Their best behaviour isn't bad, as it happens. Here was the SNP's Nicola Sturgeon reminding the First Minister that, despite recent legislation, there is still nothing to stop people over 18 owning a powerful weapon. The airgun that killed young Andrew was possessed by a person - we'll call him that - who was over 18. Not good enough, Nicola said.

Jack agreed. Such a thing has happened before, but not often. For now, he explained, he was being guided by police advice, but if matters did not improve he would consider an outright ban.

Consensus did not break down exactly but Nicola had a political point - was anyone keeping score? - to make. We have, she said, a "duty to act and act now"

if the law is inadequate and if two-thirds of gun crimes are due to air weapons. An SNP administration - the one she expects after the election no-one was supposed to mention - will legislate.

If that was bait, though I doubt it, the First Minister wasn't rising. His answer was dull. It might put sketch-writers out of work but we would all sleep better if more politicians were reliably dull.

"The immediate challenge is for the police forces of Scotland to enforce those laws," said Jack. Now that's what they call a fact.

Consensus reared its benign head again later when McConnell and Dennis Canavan - yes, you did just read that - found common ground over international aid and development. True, they joined in a spirit of amity and comradeship merely to give BBC journalism a thorough kicking, but it was a high-minded sort of kicking.

Recently, the corporation's Frontline programme has claimed that upwards of 30% of Scottish aid to Malawi is going on administration. Canavan invited Jack to offer a rebuttal. Let's just say that Dennis didn't have to ask twice.

It was a "scandalous misrepresentation". It was "untrue". Those involved should be "ashamed" and - we read between the First Minister's lines for this one - given a right good slap. In the spirit of consensus, obviously.

Canavan, who will be missed when he takes his leave of Holyrood, nicely captured the difference between a wee legislature that thinks big and a wee legislature content to know its place. "World poverty should be the business of every member of this parliament and of every person in Scotland," he said. No-one argued: consensus.

It won't last, of course. Yesterday's participants seemed almost glad of a break from the election tag-match. Very soon, we might all be praying for such a respite.