Parliamentary questions are not a courtesy. They are not optional. They are not a nuisance to be brushed aside when they become politically uncomfortable.

They are one of the most basic and important instruments available to Members of Parliament to scrutinise the executive, demand transparency and expose waste, abuse or incompetence. When ministers refuse to answer them, delay them endlessly, or hide behind vague promises that replies will come "in due course", they are not merely frustrating an Opposition MP. They are undermining Parliament itself.

Speaker Anġlu Farrugia is right to insist that Malta urgently needs a mechanism to ensure that parliamentary questions are answered within a reasonable time. His latest ruling, delivered after PN MP Eve Borg Bonello complained that she had received no replies whatsoever to 86 separate questions over 38 days, should be a political wake-up call. She had asked the Prime Minister and 11 ministers for a detailed breakdown of spending on advertising and promotion since 2022. This was not gossip. It was not mischief. It was not a fishing expedition dressed up as scrutiny. It was a legitimate request for information on how public funds are being used. Yet, not one answer had arrived.

That should shame the government.

Yes, not every parliamentary question is equally weighty. There are occasions when MPs, whether in Opposition or on the government backbench, can ask frivolous, repetitive or plainly political questions designed more for headlines than for substance. That reality should be acknowledged. Public administration should not be paralysed by pointless demands for information that serves no serious public purpose.

But that caveat cannot be weaponised by ministers to justify a culture of evasion.

Most parliamentary questions go to the heart of public accountability. They concern spending, contracts, appointments, delays, policy failures and decisions taken in the name of the taxpayer. They exist precisely because ministers must not be left to govern in the dark, shielded from interrogation by the very House to which they are constitutionally answerable. A minister who refuses to answer a proper question is not protecting efficiency. He is avoiding scrutiny.

And this is where the real scandal lies.

The Speaker has once again pointed to a glaring institutional weakness: there is no effective enforcement mechanism when ministers simply do not reply. He can remind them of their duty. He can appeal to both sides of the House. He can cite precedent, including his own earlier rulings urging partial replies where full answers take time. He can even point to better practice abroad, such as Canada's 45-day framework for written answers. But if the executive chooses to ignore him, there is little he can do.

That is intolerable in a functioning democracy.

It is also not new. Farrugia has been making similar points for years. Time and again, he has raised procedural and constitutional concerns that go to the heart of parliamentary oversight. Time and again, those concerns have been politely noted and quietly shelved. The pattern is depressingly familiar: the Speaker identifies a democratic deficiency, the House nods, and the government moves on because reform would inconvenience ministers.

That is exactly why there is every reason to be sceptical now.

Will the government introduce a binding mechanism that forces ministers to answer within a fixed deadline, or face consequences? Will it create a procedure by which unanswered questions are escalated, publicly flagged, or automatically referred for debate? Will it empower the Speaker beyond mere appeals and reminders? If experience is any guide, the answer is no. This administration, like others before it, has shown a strong instinct to protect its ministers first and Parliament second.

And that is the nub of the issue.

A government that enjoys a majority should not confuse control of the chamber with ownership of the institution. Parliament does not exist to ratify the executive's preferences. It exists to examine, challenge and hold power to account. Ministers are servants of the public, and parliamentary questions are among the clearest ways in which that service is tested.

If a question is too broad, say so. If the information will take time to compile, provide a partial answer and commit to a deadline. If the cost threshold is genuinely at issue, explain why. But silence cannot be an acceptable answer. Nor can endless deferral. "We will reply later" has become the bureaucratic equivalent of burying the matter and hoping the news cycle moves on.

This must end.

A mature democracy cannot run on ministerial convenience. It must run on ministerial accountability. The Speaker is right: Malta needs a formal mechanism, embedded in its procedures, that makes parliamentary questions meaningful rather than decorative. Without it, the Standing Orders become hollow, scrutiny becomes performative, and ministers learn that they can ignore elected representatives with impunity.

Parliamentary questions are made to be answered, not ignored. They are part of the democratic contract between the government, the House and the public. If the government refuses to act even now, it will be sending a blunt message to the country: that transparency is tolerated only when it is harmless, and accountability only when it is voluntary.

That would not merely be bad governance. It would be contempt for Parliament itself.