During the devolution campaign of 1998, then Prime Minister Tony Blair was overheard expressing his opinion of Scotland’s political journalists. The Caledonian press pack was comprised, he said, of “unreconstructed w*****s”. Oh, the outrage among my older colleagues. How dare Blair come up here and say such hurtful, hateful – and accurate – things? Back then, Nicola Sturgeon was a 28-year-old rising star of the SNP, known to the unreconstructed w*****s of the Scottish lobby as “Nippy Sweetie”, a soubriquet awarded after she was seen repeatedly committing the offence of being an unclubbable young woman. Following her election to the Scottish Parliament on the Glasgow regional list in 1999, Sturgeon’s profile rose sharply, but the connection with voters that was to make her the “selfie queen” was yet to be forged. The Nicola Sturgeon of the early noughties was awkward and defensive. In her drab black trouser suits, she blended in with the Scottish Parliamentary background and, while willing to put herself out there on behalf of her party, she could not conceal her unease in the spotlight. The official version of the Sturgeon story is that, when Alex Salmond decided in 2004 to return for a second spell as SNP leader following the resignation of John Swinney, she agreed to step aside and give him a free run. But Sturgeon’s decision was far from selfless. In fact, she was on course to lose the leadership contest to fellow MSP Roseanna Cunningham when Salmond decided to act. Nicola Sturgeon didn’t become Salmond’s running mate in 2004 for the good of her party but for the good of her own career. Her options 21 years ago were either continue to fight and lose to Cunningham or back Salmond and become the second most powerful politician in the SNP. Of course she chose the latter. She’s not a complete fool. For almost three years, Sturgeon held the fort at Holyrood. With Salmond then sitting at Westminster, it was Sturgeon who led opposition attacks on Jack McConnell’s Labour-Liberal Democrat coalition between September 2004 and the Holyrood election of 2007. She rose to the challenge. McConnell, now a Labour peer, was something of a Sturgeon admirer. He thought her focused in debate and (privately) considered her a fellow traveller when it came to many policy objectives aimed at reducing poverty. During this period, Sturgeon transformed herself. Not only did she learn to conceal her natural shyness in the Holyrood chamber, she underwent – with the aid of stylists – a dramatic makeover. She replaced the black suits with brightly coloured outfits which made her stand out from the crowd. Yes, I am aware that a man writing about a female politician’s appearance isn’t ideal but it’s impossible to ignore the way in which Sturgeon remodelled herself on the path to becoming what seemed to be the epitome of the modern politician. Look at any photo of SNP politicians taken after 2004 and she really stands out, her bright designer outfits contrasting with the sea of blue and grey serge surrounding her. Crucial to Sturgeon’s success was the contrast she provided with Salmond who, while adored by devoted nationalists, remained a divisive figure until his death last year. For a time, Sturgeon seemed the more reasonable of the two. Sturgeon’s announcement last week that she wouldn’t stand for re-election next year was greeted with various versions of “good riddance” from unionist politicians but, in the foreign land of 2007, she was considered the nationalist with whom they could do business. The independence referendum campaign of 2014 was to change that forever. Mobbed wherever she went, Sturgeon became a one-name politician. Voters lined up for selfies with Nicola. The Yes campaign may have lost the referendum but, in its aftermath, Sturgeon’s stock grew higher than ever. There was always something weird about the stadium tour on which Sturgeon embarked after she succeeded Alex Salmond as SNP leader and First Minister. She was greeted like a rock star by nationalists who’d just suffered a crushing defeat. As far as SNP members were concerned, Sturgeon could do no wrong – and it certainly looked like she agreed. That reputation has been in the trash for a long time. Sturgeon treated her supporters like fools for the eight years she served as SNP leader. She repeatedly promised a second independence referendum she had no power to deliver and became increasingly obsessed with crank gender ideology, pushing for a change in the law to allow anyone to self-identify into the legally-recognised sex of their choice. Yes, she won plaudits for her leadership during the Covid pandemic but her monomaniacal focus on gender swept away much of the goodwill she’d build up during periods of lockdown. Sturgeon’s cherished reform of the Gender Recognition Act did not proceed after to was blocked in 2023 by then Tory Scottish Secretary Alister Jack on the grounds that it would undermine the UK-wide Equality Act. Interviewed after announcing her decision not to stand for election next year, Sturgeon said that, in years to come, the country would feel “a sense of collective shame at the way in which trans people have been vilified”. If you needed proof that the former First Minister has fully lost touch with reality, there it was. Last weekend, Sturgeon was booed by feminist campaigners as she attended an event in Edinburgh to mark International Women’s Day. Those protestors we weren’t vilifying trans people, they were vilifying a politician who thinks them “bigots” for wishing to protect their important rights. Nicola Sturgeon began her political career as the victim of sexism from a bunch of unreconstructed w*****s. She ends it as a hate figure for feminists, her reputation as a champion of women’s rights shredded. A period of silence from the former First Minister would be most welcome.