I looked back to the Covid days and thought of a killer question I could have asked at one of those torturous daily press conferences, which Nicola Sturgeon used to give as first minister.

You must remember them: daily political tap-dancing in an attempt to prove how she was much less worse than Boris in London, and had a better grip on things.

It didn’t quite pan out that way in the end.

I always suspected that what she was trying to say every day – in a somewhat unsubtle way – was how much better it would be amid the carnage of Covid if Scotland was independent.

Despite the oppressive solemnity of such occasions, I imagined standing up and asking her a question guaranteed to bring the house down.

Such as, “What’s wrong with your hair?”

“You look like Mrs Doubtfire – have you thought about changing it?”

Can you picture a dread-filled silence before the first minister exploded?

She was always on a short fuse anyway when journalists questioned her too closely.

As follow-up questions, I might have chosen from a few other grenades up my sleeve.

“How many dates have you had since your marriage broke up?”

“Did you get special treatment when you were arrested?”

My outburst might have resulted in a ban from attending anything in the presence of Scotland’s leader ever again.

But it’s all about context, isn’t it?

These were actually real questions fired like bullets from an automatic weapon at Sturgeon during her highly-entertaining – if squirmy – interrogation on The Assembly series on TV.

Sturgeon’s appearance on The Assembly was gripping stuff

This is the show where neurodivergent people whose brains are wired differently from a “typical” person step forward fearlessly – and with great charm (like grinning assassins) – to puncture the armour of powerful and famous people.

With a beauty born from cognitive freedom to ask highly pertinent yet irreverently mischievous questions.

Without a trace of embarrassment, they hit the mark every time.

Or, as the producers put it, make an “honest connection”.

By asking the sort of hair-raising questions (apologies to Mrs Doubtfire) we’d all love to put, but would be too scared.

It doesn’t come over as a circus sideshow full of human oddities, which some might assume as a gut reaction to an extraordinary format; it has critics, but won awards.

It could have been worse for Sturgeon: in a previous episode, they skewered Stephen Fry by asking where he got cocaine from in his younger days – and who his dealer was.

There’s nothing abusive about it, and the victims know what they are letting themselves in for; it’s just – er – very direct.

Fair play to the ex-first minister for entering the lions’ den and taking off her familiar political straitjacket.

In one telling moment, she conceded that if there was one thing she could have done better it was to lighten up a bit.

I thought they let her off the hook in one respect, though.

Independence referendum mandate needs to be more than an SNP win

They could have asked Sturgeon to try defining a woman again in the context of the furious transgender debate.

She struggled painfully on one infamous occasion, which inadvertently stoked the flames under her leadership.

All this was far more refreshing than the agonising spectacle of our next potential leaders slugging it out during a Scottish TV election debate two days later.

Dancing through a minefield to avoid any mistakes without saying much.

It should become mandatory to be softened up on The Assembly first; like being run through my granny’s old ringer for wet clothes.

The one thing I always gave Sturgeon credit for was making clear that any new independence referendum proposal would only succeed if actual election “votes” cast for the SNP were convincing.

Instead of “seats” won, which can distort underlying Indyref support.

Even some SNP members tried – and failed – to make votes-only official policy with a magic number of more than 50 per cent.

Swinney soldiers on with a majority of seats being his IndyRef2 deciding factor at Holyrood next month, but this is only credible if he won at least 60 per cent of votes; at the last general election, he had 30 per cent.

He claims a referendum could be held as early as 2028.

I must remind everyone that in a recent major survey by the P&J it was glaringly obvious that the subject of independence was near the bottom of the list of the public’s priorities – way below many local issues.

I’d like to submit a question if they ever drag Swinney onto The Assembly.

You might think I’m anti-SNP, but I can only ask these questions of the government in charge.

It goes like this, “If you reckon the road to another independence referendum will only take two years, why have you spent two decades failing to bring the A9 and A96 roads up to standard?”

David Knight is the long-serving former deputy editor of The Press and Journal.

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