There is something to both of these arguments. Even so, the process creates a serious problem of perception. Independence from political influence was supposed to be the cardinal virtue of public inquiries; sending drafts of a report to politicians does not look good. Perhaps these concerns mean future inquiries should not go through the procedure. But Chilcot made clear from the start that potential witnesses would be given the opportunity to comment on criticisms. It would be wrong to go back on that promise.
Could he have completed Maxwellisation sooner? It is difficult for an outsider to be sure.
Either way, the criticism of Chilcot’s management of the Maxwellisation process is largely baseless. It was, for example, widely alleged that he failed to set a deadline for responses.
But everyone was given a time limit — and they stuck to it. Does it erase lots of justified criticism? An outsider cannot be sure.
The process is confidential: although we know some of the individuals who have gone through it, we do not know what the provisional criticisms were, what the responses were, or what changes they prompted.
That is necessarily the case: Maxwellisation is supposed to protect reputations by weeding out unfair criticism. It couldn’t do this if those criticisms were aired.
What matters now is the report, not its history. It will be complex. It will warrant care and attention. Tread carefully with summaries. Beware soundbites. Seven years is a long time — but the lessons of the past cannot be learned in haste.
Frederick Wilmot-Smith is a fellow in law at All Souls College, Oxford