THE ARTS went to Westminster last week. Representatives of all four UK arts councils "brought art into the heart of parliament", to quote the blurb. Which particular indigenous artform do you suppose our own dear Scottish Arts Council selected to represent Scotland's £4 billion creative economy? Let me put you out of your suspense: it was basket-weaving.

Don't get me wrong - I have nothing against basket-weavers. But I am beginning to wonder how an organisation thatsees them as emblematic of its work is going to transform itself into "the leading national development agency for the arts and creative industries in Scotland" in a little less than a year's time. That is what Creative Scotland, the new organisation to be formed out of a merger between the Scottish Arts Council (SAC) and Scottish Screen, wants to be. The people who are setting it up say so, in their submissions to the parliamentary committee scrutinising the bill that will give Creative Scotland life.

It will be "an organisation fit for the 21st century, working across the spectrum of the arts and creative industries", with "both a cultural and economic remit in how it supports individual artists, organisations, projects and companies". The creative industries include "advertising, architecture, crafts, design, designer fashion, film, interactive leisure software, music, performing arts, publishing, TV and radio and visual arts".

It all sounds marvellous - a creative powerhouse for Scotland, which, from the Edinburgh makers of Grand Theft Auto to the National Theatre, is actually quite good at ideas and creativity.

But there are problems the basket-weaving enthusiasts have yet to resolve. They don't know anything about industry (apart from the notoriously atypical film "industry") and, as things stand, they have no resources to employ anyone who does. No wonder serious players such as Janice Kirkpatrick and her multi-million pound design agency Graven Images, are growing alarmed at the prospect of having to deal with Creative Scotland and the culture minister instead of Scottish Enterprise and the industry minister.

This all became embarrassingly obvious when the government officials piloting the Creative Scotland bill through parliament and those involved in the transition process came before the education, lifelong learning and culture committee last week.

The officials were so short of answers that they were reprimanded by the committee chair for being poorly prepared. The chief executives of SAC and Scottish Screen, plus Richard Holloway, chairman of the joint boards, and Anne Bonnar, the transition director, were a bit more fluent. But under questioning they too were long on good intentions and woefully short on specifics.

Would they have more resources? Holloway said they would need more resources if they were going to have a bigger job. In fact, he said, it was "a no-brainer." When the committee MSPs pressed whether any of these resources or expertise had been identified, the former bishop replied: "I have no doubt our glorious spiritually led government will sort it all out for us."

Touching faith, Richard, but judging by the glum face Linda Fabiani, the normally ebullient culture minister, has been wearing recently, I wouldn't be too sure.

After all, it was in this government's election manifesto that the creative industries part of Scottish Enterprise would be transferred to Creative Scotland. But Scottish Enterprise has undergone a root-and-branch re-organisation in the past few months. Some of its responsibilities and resources, notably for small business start-ups (such as basket-weaving), have indeed been transferred - but to local authorities. There is a lot of talk about ongoing meetings between the putative Creative Scotland and various partners, but in public at least Scottish Enterprise says it has no plans to transfer any more money or personnel.

Far from transferring its responsibilities, Scottish Enterprise is busily talking up its commitment to at least one lucrative creative sector, "digital content and enabling technologies". Doesn't that sound a bit like the "interactive leisure software" that Creative Scotland expects to take charge of?

There is much talk of finding new ways of thinking, of advocacy, of innovative financing from banks and venture capitalists. But the thought of Jim Tough, acting chief executive of SAC, telling Sir Fred Goodwin at RBS how to spend his money is funnier than most shows on the Fringe will be this summer.

Bonnar, the ferociously clever woman in charge of the transition process, is far too sophisticated an operator not to know all this and a lot more.

It may be that her agenda is to annex the territory first and then present the government with a bill it will have little option but to accept. I suspect the parliamentary finance committee may have rumbled this, which is why it has decided to give the bill, which outlines transition costs of £1.4 million an additional level of scrutiny. But someone is going to have to break cover soon.

Creative Scotland is basically a good idea and keenly awaited in some parts of the creative economy (generally the subsidised bit). The worst thing that could happen after years of governmental paralysis and endless reports would be for it to raise expectations it is then unable to fulfil.