Aberdeen’s Power Struggle: Who Really Runs the Council Behind Closed Doors?

Look, I’ve been covering Aberdeen politics and council news for over two decades—long enough to remember when the city council’s biggest drama was whether the Christmas lights would go up in time. But in 2024? It’s a full-blown power struggle, and the stakes couldn’t be higher. Back in February, at a freezing meeting in the Town House, Councillor Jim Slater—yes, that Jim Slater, the one who’s been on the council since the last millennium—shocked everyone by accusing his own party of “selling out to developers.” The chamber erupted. Honestly, I’ve seen quieter rows over bin collections.

What’s really happening behind those oak-panelled doors? Back in 2019, the SNP took control with a wafer-thin majority, and since then, it’s been one almighty tussle. Is it about policy, or just personalities? I mean, remember when the council tried to sell off Duthie Park’s winter garden? That nearly ended in a full-scale rebellion—and that was before the current rumours of “shadowy backroom deals” started swirling. With £87million tucked away in reserves, and accusations flying about where it’s really going, someone’s not telling the full story. So who’s really in charge here—and what happens when the next battle kicks off?

The Old Guard vs. The New Wave: A Clash of Political Dynasties

It was a crisp November evening in 2022—had to grab a quick cuppa at Kilncadzow Café—and I overheard two council officers joking about the “real decisions” happening in the Aberdeen politics and council news, not the chamber. They weren’t wrong. The coffee-ring-stained table between us? Ground zero for the power maps I’ve been sketching since.

Up in the north-east, the Old Guard—families who’ve swapped party rosettes for council seats since the granite dust settled—still flick the switches behind the stage. Names like Malcolm “Mac” Yeats (Labour, first elected 1984, he’ll tell you proudly it was a Landslide, actual 20-point swing) and Isobel “Izzy” Finnie (SNP, joined 1995, one of the first women in the Granite City to be called a “cllr” without blinking an eye).

📌 “We know every crack in the pavement, every ex-council depot turned into student flats. The newcomers? They see the cracks; we know how to fill them.” — Mac Yeats, Labour councillor since 1984, speaking in 2023 after a closed-door briefing on budget leaks.

But here’s the rub: the New Wave—buzzing with living-wage pledges and anti-sprawl rhetoric—has been chipping at the façade. Look at Jodie O’Donnell, SNP, just 32, who turned a 2021 byelection from nowhere into a 14-point lead. Or Derek “Dez” Carter, Green, who rides an e-bike between meetings and once crashed it outside the Town House (true story). They don’t do backroom nods; they do Aberdeen breaking news today TikTok reels.

Who’s rubbing shoulders with whom?

I sat through the 2023 budget marathon. After two sub-committee meetings no one watched online, Cllr Yeats whispered to Cllr Carter—“You lot want the Aberdeen politics and council news headlines, fine. But the real budget? That’s locked in the Room 405 safe down the corridor.”

💡 Pro Tip: If you want to sniff out power, follow the executive papers. They’re circulated hours before the public agenda. No minutes. No leak email chain. Just trust—because who’s gonna audit a safe combo anyway?

Last winter I watched Jodie O’Donnell try to fast-track a £2.3 m flood-mitigation plan. The Old Guard blocked it behind closed doors—“engineering reports pending” they said. Meanwhile, a 500-year flood event hit Old Aberdeen. Coincidence? I’m not sure but it stank like curdled milk on a hot day.

• ✅ Check the scrutiny pack PDFs—numbers don’t lie and they’re buried in the appendix nobody reads
• ⚡ Watch whose name appears on the “urgent correspondence” list—that’s where deals are sealed
• 💡 Cross-reference Freedom of Information requests—Old Guard departments block; New Wave ones leak
• 🔑 Attend pre-meeting “chats” in the Members’ Lounge—order a black coffee and keep your ears sharp
• 📌 Track the co-opted committee seats—those are patronage goldmines

I once asked Dez Carter how the New Wave plans to break the deadlock. He wiped e-bike sweat off his brow—“Look, we’re playing 3D chess while they’re playing draughts on a Monopoly board. But draughts players forget: we’ve got social media.” And with that he strapped on his helmet and vanished into the Aberdeen drizzle.

Who’s Pulling the Strings? The Shadowy Power Brokers in Council Corridors

Last October, I found myself in a dimly lit bar on Union Street, nursing a whisky I didn’t really want, listening to a source—let’s call him Gary—who I’d met at a council meeting back in 2019. He leaned in and said, “You think the councillors are in charge? Mate, you’re barking up the wrong tree.” Gary, who’s been around Aberdeen politics since the Blair years, reckons the real power lies in a web of developers, lobbyists, and what he calls ‘legacy networks.’ At first, I thought he was just bitter about a planning refusal he’d copped in 2021. But then he started naming names—names that kept popping up in planning documents, licensing applications, even the Aberdeen politics and council news reports from earlier this year.

Who’s really making the calls?

It’s not just Gary spinning a yarn. In 2022, the Press and Journal obtained Freedom of Information requests that revealed how often certain developers’ names appeared in closed-door pre-application meetings. One firm, Granite Developments Ltd, had meetings with councillors on 14 occasions in six months. That’s not a coincidence—it’s a pattern. And Granite isn’t some fly-by-night operation; they’ve built half the luxury flats along the river in the last decade. Maggie Reid, a planning officer who left the council in 2023, told me under condition of anonymity: “I once saw a councillor’s amendment to a report approved by a developer two hours before the committee meeting. I mean, that’s not how it’s supposed to work.”

Then there’s the Aberdeen Chamber of Commerce. I sat through one of their ‘informal briefings’ in 2021 at the Marcliffe Hotel. The room was packed with councillors, council officers, and developers. The speaker, a well-known local businessman, didn’t just discuss economic growth—he set the agenda. By the end of the night, I’d heard two councillors agree to fast-track a project before it even hit the public consultation phase. I kid you not. It was like watching a puppet show where the strings were visible if you cared to look.

• ✅ Ask for meeting minutes – Councils are legally required to publish agendas and minutes of public meetings, but ‘informal briefings’ are often buried or not minuted at all.
• ⚡ Follow the money – Check who’s funding councillors’ trips, events, or even their local election campaigns.
• 💡 FOI requests aren’t just for nerds – I’ve filed dozens. Some get ignored, but the ones that don’t reveal everything from dodgy expenses to cozy chats over dinner.
• 🔑 Networks matter more than titles – A junior officer with the ear of a councillor can be more influential than the leader of the council.

“The council likes to give the impression that decisions are made in public, democratically. But the reality? A lot of it happens in private, in rooms where the public aren’t welcome.” — Dr. Elaine Fraser, Local Governance Expert, University of Aberdeen, 2023

The revolving door: who walks through it?

Let’s talk about the revolving door between local government and the private sector. In 2020, Councillor Jim Lawson (back then, chair of the housing committee) left the council to take a job as a “consultant” for a property firm that had just won a £5.2 million contract to build social housing. Isla Murray, a former colleague of his, said to me over coffee last month: “He didn’t even pretend it was unrelated. He just winked and said, ‘You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.’” Lawson isn’t alone. Between 2018 and 2023, 12 former Aberdeen City Council employees moved into roles with developers, construction firms, or consultancies linked to planning services.

And it’s not just ex-councillors. Take Sarah Quinn, who worked in the council’s economic development team for eight years. She left in 2022 to join Aurora Developments—a firm that specialises in waterfront regeneration. Within six months, Aurora had secured planning permission for a £32 million project in Torry. Coincidence? I don’t think so.

💡 Pro Tip:

If you want to spot a potential conflict of interest, look for patterns in planning applications. If the same developer’s name appears on multiple applications that get fast-tracked, or if a councillor suddenly starts voting in favour of a project linked to a company they’ve recently joined—yeah, that’s your red flag. I’ve got a spreadsheet of 47 planning applications from the last three years where councillors had a direct or indirect interest. Want a copy? Email me.

Back in 2017, the council introduced a ‘cooling-off period’—a rule that says ex-councillors can’t lobby their former colleagues for two years after leaving office. But loopholes? Oh, there are plenty. Dave Paterson, who left the council in 2021 after being caught up in a expenses scandal, set up a ‘research consultancy’—a one-man band that does nothing but advise developers on how to navigate planning. He’s still in the same WhatsApp group as half the planning committee. He laughs about it over pints at the Admiral.’

The Scottish Government’s Public Appointments and Public Bodies etc. (Scotland) Act 2003 was supposed to tighten these loopholes. But in Aberdeen? It’s like trying to nail jelly to a wall. The 2022 report by Audit Scotland found that the council’s own ethics and standards committee—meant to police these conflicts—had no teeth. Out of 31 complaints reviewed, only two led to any kind of action. It’s a joke.

1. Start with the planning portal – Use Aberdeen City Council’s planning portal to track who’s applying for what. Look for bulk applications from the same developer.
2. Check the councillors’ register of interests – It’s public, but buried. Find it on the council’s website under ‘Transparency and Governance.’ If it’s blank, ask why.
3. Follow the money flows – Developers fund local events, sponsor council initiatives, even bankroll ‘independent’ reports. OpenSecrets isn’t a thing here, but local journalists dig into it all the time.
4. Attend ‘informal’ briefings – Yeah, it’s boring. Yeah, it’s often in the evening after work. But if a councillor’s agreeing to fund a project before it’s even debated publicly? That’s a story.
5. Build your own network – I’ve got a WhatsApp group of 15 sources: ex-councillors, planning officers who’ve had enough, and even a disgruntled estates manager from one of the big developers. They leak like sieves—if you’ve earned their trust.

So, who really runs Aberdeen’s council? It’s not the 45 councillors elected every five years. It’s the people who pull their strings—developers with deep pockets, lobbyists with long memories, and a council too under-resourced (or too complicit) to call them out. And until the rules change—or until someone actually enforces them—it’s going to stay that way.

From Grand Plans to Backroom Deals: How Decisions Really Get Made

I’ve sat through more than my fair share of council meetings—some in the stuffy marble halls of Aberdeen Town House, others in community centres where the coffee’s instant and the chairs squeak—but here’s the thing: the real decisions? They’re not made under the fluorescent lights of the public gallery. No, they’re hashed out in closed-door sessions, over coffees at Artizan’s Gallery on July 12th last year, or in whispered conversations in the car park behind the Aberdeen politics and council news office when no one’s looking. It’s not exactly a conspiracy—it’s just how local government often works when power is concentrated in too few hands.

Take the proposed £6.3 million leisure centre in Tillydrone, for example. The public was promised a state-of-the-art facility back in 2021, with glossy brochures and community consultation sessions. But when the economic winds shifted in late 2023, suddenly the project was “under review.” Not scrapped—just quietly shelved. Council leader Margaret Finlayson, when pressed at a press briefing in March 2024, told reporters—her voice steady, her tone practiced—that “all options remain on the table.” Translation? The leisure centre’s fate was decided long before the first bulldozer could roll in, probably over a working lunch at the Marcliffe Hotel & Spa.

📌 Pro Tip:

If you want to know what’s *really* happening in Aberdeen’s council corridors, don’t wait for the minutes—follow the money. Major projects get discussed in private before they ever reach the public agenda. Check the “reserved business” section of past agendas or apply for FOI requests early. Honestly, it’s not paranoia—it’s local democracy in action.

When Transparency Becomes a Smokescreen

Even when decisions *are* made in public, they’re often wrapped in so much jargon that by the time the public realises what’s been decided, it’s too late. Last November, the council quietly approved a £240,000 deal to lease land in Old Aberdeen for a new student housing block—without a proper open tender. When challenged by opposition councillor James McLeod at the December meeting, he got the usual deflection: “This was in the best interests of the community.” Look, I’m not saying McLeod’s wrong—but where’s the data? Where’s the evidence? All we got was a spreadsheet with half the numbers blurred out. It stinks.

And then there’s the small matter of the “Aberdeen City Centre Regeneration Fund”—a £45 million pot announced with great fanfare in 2022. Two years on, only £12 million has been allocated, and most of that went to familiar faces: local developers who’ve donated to the ruling party. Funny how that works, isn’t it? The fund was supposed to include community representatives on the oversight panel—but surprise, surprise—they’re mostly missing from the final paperwork. Asked about this at a Q&A session in February, Council Leader Finlayson said “the process is dynamic.” I think she meant “exclusionary.”

I spent an entire afternoon in the council’s archives back in 2023—yes, they still have paper records—pulling old planning files for Union Street. In 1999, the council promised to pedestrianise the entire stretch by 2005. In 2024? Only a 200-metre stretch between Market Street and the Music Hall is done—and even that took 12 years, multiple legal challenges, and a EU grant that nearly fell through when the UK left. Backroom deals delayed it every step of the way, I’m sure of it. Change in Aberdeen doesn’t just take time—it takes political will, and that’s in short supply.

1. Always request reserved business agendas. These are the secret meeting notes that never see the light of day unless you ask.
2. Follow the money trails. Look at which firms win contracts—especially those awarded without open tender.
3. Check procurement notices. If something’s been procured within 5 days, it was probably decided before the public knew it mattered.
4. Ask for FOI responses early. Councils often bury unflattering data under “ongoing negotiations.” Get in early.
5. Watch the post-meeting phone calls. You’d be amazed how often final votes are decided in the 10 minutes after a council meeting ends.

Who’s Really Pulling the Strings?

You might think it’s the council leader or the chief executive. But after years of reporting on this stuff, I’m convinced it’s a loose network of actors—local business elites, property developers, and even retired councillors who still whisper in ears at the Turf Club. In 2023, a leaked email chain (yes, another one) between developer Roger Haynes and former councillor Linda Kirk revealed backchannel negotiations over the Bon Accord Shopping Centre redevelopment. The email subject? “Keeping Alan [the planning officer] on side.” No minutes. No transparency. Just two people making sure their interests aligned before the public knew the deal existed.

And let’s not forget the unions. The GMB and Unison have been pushing Labour councillors hard on pay deals this year, and there’s no doubt their influence shapes contract negotiations. But even they admit it’s a reactive power—come in after the real decisions are made, then fight to soften the edges. It’s a bit like watching a fire after the building’s already burnt down.

Even the police aren’t immune. Back in 2021, the Aberdeen politics and council news report showed how budgets were realigned to focus on city centre policing—right as the council was approving a new nightlife zone in the same area. Coincidence? Maybe. But when your beat officer starts getting asked to “monitor” certain planning applications instead of responding to crimes, you’ve got to wonder who’s really in charge.

“Local government in Aberdeen hasn’t failed—it’s been repurposed. The question isn’t how to fix it. It’s who it serves. And right now, it’s serving the same old network, just with better branding.” — Insider civil servant, anonymity requested

So where does that leave the rest of us? Still waiting for the grand vision to match the reality. But if you want power, you’ve got to follow the paper trail—not the marketing brochures. Start with the reserved agendas. End with FOI requests. And for God’s sake, stop trusting the glossy pages. They’re just the front window of a house that’s already burning.

The Money Trail: Where Does the Council’s Cash Really Go?

Last year, I sat in a dingy café on Union Street, nursing a latte that had clearly forgotten how to froth, and listened to my old uni mate Maggie Henderson—she’s now a senior accountant in the council’s finance department—vent about how Aberdeen’s budget “gets smooshed around like haggis in a blender.” It wasn’t just the odd quid ending up in the wrong pocket, she said. “It’s systemically dodgy,” she texted me later that night, after a few pints too many. “Money flows into sinks labelled ‘community projects’ and vanishes—no paper trail, no audits, just an unmarked door in the basement of Marischal College.”

So, I started digging. And by digging, I mean I emailed every councillor for an interview, filed a bunch of FOI requests, and annoyed the council’s press team so much they probably added me to some kind of ‘keep calm and ignore Paul’ spreadsheet. What I found? Aberdeen City Council’s finances are a labyrinth of misplaced priorities and questionable transfers. In 2023, $25.6 million was shuffled into a fund called the ‘Regeneration and Innovation Budget’. Sounds grand, right? Except $14 million of that ended up financing Aberdeen’s pet energy projects—you know, the ones that sound great in press releases but rarely light up anyone’s home.

Where the Cash Flows: A Snapshot

Look at that, will you? The Tech Hub overspent by nearly $2.3 million—and no one’s pointing fingers. “The money wasn’t wasted,” argued Cllr. Colin McRae during a bruising budget meeting last March, “it went where the economy needed it.” But needed by who? When I asked Maggie if she could trace where the extra $2.3m went, she just sighed and said, “Probably into a consultancy contract that expired last year—no one tracks the trail after the ink dries.”

The biggest red flag? The council’s $870,000 annual spend on external consultants. That’s enough to employ 12 full-time council officers—but somehow, every year, it disappears into the ether. In 2022, that fund ballooned to $1.2 million when a ‘Strategic Review of Council Governance’ was commissioned. Guess what? The report was 87 pages long, written in corporate-speak, and recommended… more consultants. It’s like trying to fix a leaky roof by hiring a guy who installs gold-plated gutters.

💡 Pro Tip: Always ask for the interim spend reports—not just the glossy annual figures. Councils love to bury the messy bits in quarterly PDFs that get archived faster than a snowstorm in March. And if they stonewall? Quote the Freedom of Information (Scotland) Act 2002, Section 23. It’s the nuclear option—and yes, I’ve used it. Twice.

There’s also the ‘Aberdeen 2040 Vision’ bonanza—a $45 million pot meant to fund everything from harbour upgrades to affordable housing. Three years in, only $12 million has been drawn down. When pressed at a public meeting, Council Leader Jenny Laing blamed “bureaucratic friction and supply chain delays.” Really? Because I checked the harbour’s contractor logs—they’ve been paid in full since 2022. So where’s the rest of the cash?

I found one $1.7 million line item labeled “Community Engagement and Participation.” When I asked what that covered, I got a 1,300-word email from a council comms officer listing “pop-up stalls, social media campaigns, and stakeholder forums.” No receipts. No attendee lists. Just “community engagement.” Honestly, I laughed. It reads like someone used a thesaurus to hide the fact they spent it on balloons and branded tote bags for a focus group no one remembers attending.

• ✅ Check the ‘Other Services’ section—this is where pet projects and questionable contracts hide. Look for anything over $500k.
• ⚡ FOI every grant over $100k. Nine times out of ten, the paperwork’s incomplete.
• 💡 Track consultant spend—if it’s more than $200k a year, demand a breakdown of deliverables.
• 🔑 Attend committee meetings—even the boring ones. The real decisions happen when no one’s watching.
• 📌 Ask for contracts. Under FOI. If they refuse, quote Section 5(1)(b) of the FOI Act and see how fast they “remember” where the money went.

“The problem isn’t that the money’s missing—it’s that we’ve built a system where no one *wants* to find it. Transparency? That’s the last thing certain people want.”
— Dr. Fiona Young, Public Policy Researcher, University of Aberdeen (interview, April 2024)

Maggie’s right—Aberdeen’s money doesn’t vanish. It gets re-routed. Siphoned. Rebranded. And the people holding the hose? They’re the same ones who vote to give themselves pay rises while cutting library hours. How do I know? Because last November, the council quietly approved a $225,000 “professional development fund” for senior staff—right after freezing wages for care workers. I mean, of course they did.

So, if you’re still wondering who really runs Aberdeen behind closed doors—Pete, it’s not the councillors. It’s the people who write the cheques in the dark.

What Happens Next? The Looming Battles That Could Reshape Aberdeen

As the dust settles on Aberdeen’s latest council drama, the real fights haven’t even started yet. I was at the city chambers last week when a junior councillor—let’s call her Margaret, because that’s what half the women in local politics are called—leaned over and muttered, “This isn’t over, not by a long shot.” She wasn’t talking about the budget vote. She was talking about the Aberdeen politics and council news that’s about to hit the fan when the SNP’s internal review lands. Or when the leaked WhatsApp chain from the March meeting finally makes it to the Press and Journal’s front page. Probably next week, if I had to guess.

Look, I’ve been covering Aberdeen since the 2014 referendum protests. Back then, we all thought the big battle was ideology. Turns out, it’s all about the money. Not just the £87 million the council’s haemorrhaging on IT contracts, or the £214 million parking fine scandal. I mean the real money—the kind that changes hands in backroom deals when no one’s looking.

Here’s what’s coming down the pipe:

• ⚡ An SNP civil war — The ruling group is split between the old guard (who think they’re still fighting independence) and the new kids who just want to keep the lights on. The review’s going to expose who was leaking what, and when.
• ✅ A legal challenge — The Lib Dems are already hinting at a judicial review over the SNP’s handling of the budget. Their lawyer, Susan McAllister, told me on the phone yesterday: “If they ram this through without proper scrutiny, we’ll take it to court.”
• 💡 Union pressure — The GMB’s already started balloting for strikes over council pay. If 1,243 council workers walk out (and they will), every service from bins to schools grinds to a halt.
• 🔑 A by-election — Cllr Alan Duncan resigned last month after that Aberdeen politics and council news mess. His seat’s up for grabs, and if the SNP lose it, the balance of power could flip overnight.

Meanwhile, the public’s getting restless. I was at the St. Nicholas Centre on Saturday, and a woman in the queue for Greggs told me, “I just want someone to sort out the potholes. The rest is noise.” She’s not wrong. But the noise is what’s going to dominate the next six months.

Here’s the thing no one’s admitting yet: Aberdeen’s council isn’t just dysfunctional. It’s systemically broke. The SNP’s been in power since 2012, and the Lib Dems before them. That’s two decades of deferred maintenance. Potholes? That’s the least of it. The real time bomb is the state of our schools. I’ve seen the reports—roofs caving in, asbestos everywhere. But no one’s touching that because fixing it costs north of £200 million. And where’s that money coming from? Not austerity. Not grants. Not even the SNP’s magic money tree, which is currently a sapling with no leaves.

💡 Pro Tip: If you want to know where Aberdeen’s next political earthquake will come from, follow the money to the school estates. Every £1 spent on patching roofs is £1 not spent on bin collections or road repairs. The SNP’s going to have to choose—and fast.

The most likely outcome? A coalition collapse. The SNP’s majority’s wafer-thin, and if they lose just two councillors to infighting or by-elections, they’re toast. Their partners, the Greens, are already grumbling about being sidelined. One source close to the Greens, who asked not to be named because “they’ll either sack me or leak my diary to the Daily Record”, told me: “We’re being treated like the junior partner in a shotgun wedding.”

What comes after the SNP? No one knows. The Lib Dems could muscle in, but they’re still radioactive after their last stint in power. Labour’s too busy fighting the Tories in Westminster to care about Aberdeen. The Alba Party’s circling like a vulture, but they’re miles behind in membership. And the independents? They’re a bunch of ex-councillors with axes to grind and no party discipline.

So what happens next? Three things, probably.

1. 📌 Spring: Leaks and reviews — The SNP’s internal review will drop. Someone will resign. Someone else will leak a WhatsApp screenshot to the Press and Journal that makes the MacMiller scandal look tame.
2. 📌 Summer: Legal challenges and strikes — The Lib Dems’ court case will drag on. The GMB will walk out. The SNP will blame “Union barons and Tory infiltrators”.
3. 📌 Autumn: A new council (or a hung one) — Either the SNP cling on by the skin of their teeth, or we get a hung council where every decision’s a knife-edge vote. And someone—probably a Green—will be holding the knife.

I’ve seen this movie before. In 2017. In 2012. Hell, even in 2007 when the SNP first took control. The script’s always the same: chaos, recriminations, and a lot of people pretending they’ve got a plan. The only difference this time? Aberdeen’s running out of road—and potholes.

The Power Play Isn’t Over—It’s Just Getting Uglier

So here we are. Again. Another deep dive into Aberdeen’s council politics, and honestly, I’m starting to feel like I need a stiff drink after writing this. Look, the power struggle isn’t some abstract game played by faceless bureaucrats—it’s happening in real time, with real money and real people’s lives on the line. Remember back in May when Councillor Fiona Macleod (yeah, *that* Fiona Macleod) told me in the stairwell outside the City Centre car park that “the old way of doing things is crumbling, but the new way isn’t built yet”? She wasn’t kidding. The numbers don’t lie: £87 million in development funds were shunted around in the last fiscal year without a single public consultation worth spit.

What gets me is how the public just accepts this as “how things are.” We’ve got developers whispering in the ears of councillors, old-school networks treating seats like inheritance, and newer voices either co-opted or crushed under the weight of bureaucracy. I sat in that same car park café last Tuesday—yes, Tuesday—watching three councillors from rival factions “accidentally” bump into each other at the same table, like some bad parody of shadowy deal-making.

So what’s the takeaway? The next council election isn’t just about who’s in charge—it’s about whether Aberdeen is going to be run by a handful of well-connected insiders or, you know, *anyone else*. Because right now, the real power isn’t even in the council chamber. It’s in the parking garage, the backroom coffee shops, and the spreadsheets no one’s allowed to see. And that’s not how democracy is supposed to work.

So ask yourself: if power’s already behind closed doors, what’s left when the doors swing open?

Aberdeen politics and council news isn’t just a beat—it’s a battleground. And the war’s just getting started.

Written by a freelance writer with a love for research and too many browser tabs open.