They’re all at it! Have they no shame? It’s taxpayers’ money – sofa beds, wide screen televisions, adult films, bathplugs ... bathplugs? Er, OK, bathplugs it is.
Now, as a freelance worker getting round to settling this year’s accountant’s bill, or to describe it in the appropriate “speak”, fee note, I might be thought of as one of those baying for blood at the parliamentary expense business. After all, Gordon Brown was at 11 Downing Street when IR35 came to plague us all. The temptation is certainly there. But I am also trying to think the whole thing through – Andy Coulson would hate voters like me, trying to think before acting.
Once upon a time, MPs didn’t get a salary. So it is hardly surprising that those prepared to serve had another income, whether by work or inheritance. David Lloyd George – yes, him again – changed that, quite possibly speeding up the decline of his own Liberal Party in the process. Do we want to go back to the time before LG’s action? Erm, not really. Neither, I suspect, do we want to have “your member of parliament sponsored by MegaCorp (tm)”.
But they’re claiming all those expenses! Yes, yes, I got that one. Because that’s what they’re allowed to do. There’s no mystery about it. MPs get into parliament, and they get told that they can claim for this, that and t’other. They then claim for them. And have been doing so for decades. So why is all the froth being generated now?
Ah well. Now we not only have Freedom of Information, we also have hacks who have figured out how to use FOI, and whose bosses need to keep up their circulation. And nothing keeps up the circulation like a little sleaze. Or even a lot of sleaze. And do the proprietors care about the fallout? Bears, woods, you get the picture.
So I’m not going to join the baying mob. Sure, there may be a need to give the whole system a good shaking. That can’t happen overnight. In the meantime, I would commend the wise words of Churchill. That’s the dog on the adverts, not Winshton.
Steady now.
Tuesday, 7 April 2009
Grenade in Crowded Room Horror
An issue that will not go away, mainly because politicians across the spectrum cannot or will not address it, is that of currently illegal drugs. And, demonstrating that we need these kinds of newspapers (who else will allow the airing of such subjects and their debate?), today’s Guardian has lobbed the grenade into the room, with this article.
And why won’t politicians face up to the D-word? Step forward the legendarily foul mouthed Paul Dacre, editor of the Daily Mail. Any politico putting his or her head above the parapet on this one knows that the Mail will be there to shoot it off. More, the screaming denunciation will be backed up by sufficient personal intrusion and the nastiest kind of attacks to shut up anyone who steps out of line.
Why is this? Dacre could do the country a substantial service by admitting the obvious: that present policy on drugs doesn’t work. Decriminalisation, together with regulation, has the potential to lower crime rates and therefore the cost of policing. Moreover, there is also a potential revenue benefit to the Treasury. Would more folks use the stuff? We don’t know – but what we do know is that Paul Dacre also doesn’t know. And he’s got nothing better to offer, bar more screaming denunciation.
The status quo has come about because the size of the industries involved with legal drugs – including tobacco and alcohol – means that their lobbying has kept them legal. That, more or less, is all there is to it. Illegal drugs can do all sorts of nasty things to a user’s wellbeing. And so can legal drugs.
It’s all very well sneering at the Guardian. At least one newspaper is grown up enough to have the debate – it’s just a pity that others are not.
And why won’t politicians face up to the D-word? Step forward the legendarily foul mouthed Paul Dacre, editor of the Daily Mail. Any politico putting his or her head above the parapet on this one knows that the Mail will be there to shoot it off. More, the screaming denunciation will be backed up by sufficient personal intrusion and the nastiest kind of attacks to shut up anyone who steps out of line.
Why is this? Dacre could do the country a substantial service by admitting the obvious: that present policy on drugs doesn’t work. Decriminalisation, together with regulation, has the potential to lower crime rates and therefore the cost of policing. Moreover, there is also a potential revenue benefit to the Treasury. Would more folks use the stuff? We don’t know – but what we do know is that Paul Dacre also doesn’t know. And he’s got nothing better to offer, bar more screaming denunciation.
The status quo has come about because the size of the industries involved with legal drugs – including tobacco and alcohol – means that their lobbying has kept them legal. That, more or less, is all there is to it. Illegal drugs can do all sorts of nasty things to a user’s wellbeing. And so can legal drugs.
It’s all very well sneering at the Guardian. At least one newspaper is grown up enough to have the debate – it’s just a pity that others are not.
Monday, 6 April 2009
Wrong Sort of Baked Beans
Or chips. Or burgers, or breakfast cereal: maybe there really is a difference, or perhaps it’s the influence of the Mad Men, of peer pressure or pester power. Kids demand the brand, and no other. Human beings can be horribly irrational, not that the manufacturers able to charge a premium for their products are complaining. Unlike some economists, they live in the real world.
Sad to say, the demands of childhood never go away for some. This has been understood very well by the legendarily foul mouthed Paul Dacre, editor of the Daily Mail, as Nick Davies’ excellent Flat Earth News shows. Mail readers want to have their world view confirmed; Dacre gives them a product that gives them that confirmation. Further, the Mail delivers the flip side: it doesn’t frighten its readers with stories they don’t want to hear. It’s a comfort blanket.
As for the Daily Mail, so for the blogosphere. It’s not necessary to read many blogs before you realise that there is an often desperate desire to push views and stories that chime with a particular political viewpoint: whether the author is left or right wing, whether Labour, Tory, Lib Dem or any other affiliation.
So what? Isn’t it all harmless froth?
Ah well. Yes and no. Because it’s not so long a journey from the idea of hearing what you want to, to dismissing the stories you don’t want to hear as being biased or downright untrue.
And this mindset has one easy victim: any media organisation that is compelled to apply even handedness, or one that is not so compelled, but which works towards that end.
No prizes for identifying the targets: in broadcast media, the BBC, and in print media, the Guardian.
Are these organisations so horribly biased, or is it simply that they are selling the wrong shape of pasta, the wrong thickness of chips, or the wrong brand of baked beans?
Not that I’d want a little serious thought to remove the comfort of that blanket, of course.
Sad to say, the demands of childhood never go away for some. This has been understood very well by the legendarily foul mouthed Paul Dacre, editor of the Daily Mail, as Nick Davies’ excellent Flat Earth News shows. Mail readers want to have their world view confirmed; Dacre gives them a product that gives them that confirmation. Further, the Mail delivers the flip side: it doesn’t frighten its readers with stories they don’t want to hear. It’s a comfort blanket.
As for the Daily Mail, so for the blogosphere. It’s not necessary to read many blogs before you realise that there is an often desperate desire to push views and stories that chime with a particular political viewpoint: whether the author is left or right wing, whether Labour, Tory, Lib Dem or any other affiliation.
So what? Isn’t it all harmless froth?
Ah well. Yes and no. Because it’s not so long a journey from the idea of hearing what you want to, to dismissing the stories you don’t want to hear as being biased or downright untrue.
And this mindset has one easy victim: any media organisation that is compelled to apply even handedness, or one that is not so compelled, but which works towards that end.
No prizes for identifying the targets: in broadcast media, the BBC, and in print media, the Guardian.
Are these organisations so horribly biased, or is it simply that they are selling the wrong shape of pasta, the wrong thickness of chips, or the wrong brand of baked beans?
Not that I’d want a little serious thought to remove the comfort of that blanket, of course.
Fixing The Roof – Part 1
The Chileans have, apparently, embarrassed Pa Broon by talking about putting money aside in the good times. Music to the ears of David Cameron.
The Tories have put out what sound like straightforward, common sense messages on the economy: “fix the roof while the sun is shining” and the Thatcher hand-me-down of “living within our means”. But what do these snappy soundbites mean for Joe and Joanne Public?
The concept of “living within our means” carries an implicit criticism of the level of public spending: that Labour is doing too much of it, and the Cameron Tories would do less. So what does public spending buy, and what would it therefore buy less of under the ideas floated by the Tories?
Consider a middling size town like Crewe. Here, public spending provides places like Leighton Hospital: buildings, equipment, facilities are all provided. But most of all – and you just need a walk through the place for the point to register – that spending buys people. Put directly, it provides jobs. If there is to be significantly less of this spending, then less jobs will be provided. And, to paraphrase Calvin Coolidge, when many people are out of work, unemployment results.
Those doubting the result of public spending cuts need look no further than the early Thatcher years. Unemployment increased massively: the true maximum number is difficult to ascertain, as the basis on which the figures were calculated was changed, producing numbers lower than by using pre-1979 methods. Even with the revised basis for calculating jobless figures, that number peaked at well over three million.
What, then, of the concept of “fixing the roof while the sun is shining”? This makes an attractive soundbite, but the reality, in the immediate term at least, is a greater amount of unemployment. To “fix the roof” means that public spending – unless bolstered by higher borrowing and/or taxation – would have to be foregone. So the employment of those whose jobs would be bought by that public spending would also be foregone. The result, then, is less employment.
So these two ostensibly attractive Tory slogans have one direct and clear consequence: more people out of work. It would be refreshing to hear David Cameron admit this directly, but it is equally unlikely. Also, that reduction in jobs does not just affect the public sector, a subject to which I will return.
The Tories have put out what sound like straightforward, common sense messages on the economy: “fix the roof while the sun is shining” and the Thatcher hand-me-down of “living within our means”. But what do these snappy soundbites mean for Joe and Joanne Public?
The concept of “living within our means” carries an implicit criticism of the level of public spending: that Labour is doing too much of it, and the Cameron Tories would do less. So what does public spending buy, and what would it therefore buy less of under the ideas floated by the Tories?
Consider a middling size town like Crewe. Here, public spending provides places like Leighton Hospital: buildings, equipment, facilities are all provided. But most of all – and you just need a walk through the place for the point to register – that spending buys people. Put directly, it provides jobs. If there is to be significantly less of this spending, then less jobs will be provided. And, to paraphrase Calvin Coolidge, when many people are out of work, unemployment results.
Those doubting the result of public spending cuts need look no further than the early Thatcher years. Unemployment increased massively: the true maximum number is difficult to ascertain, as the basis on which the figures were calculated was changed, producing numbers lower than by using pre-1979 methods. Even with the revised basis for calculating jobless figures, that number peaked at well over three million.
What, then, of the concept of “fixing the roof while the sun is shining”? This makes an attractive soundbite, but the reality, in the immediate term at least, is a greater amount of unemployment. To “fix the roof” means that public spending – unless bolstered by higher borrowing and/or taxation – would have to be foregone. So the employment of those whose jobs would be bought by that public spending would also be foregone. The result, then, is less employment.
So these two ostensibly attractive Tory slogans have one direct and clear consequence: more people out of work. It would be refreshing to hear David Cameron admit this directly, but it is equally unlikely. Also, that reduction in jobs does not just affect the public sector, a subject to which I will return.
Sunday, 5 April 2009
Nul Points
Yes, the conclusion of today’s Malaysian Grand Prix was a tad shambolic. No more 1700 hours local time starts for that one, I suspect. But Jenson’s doing well. Back to back victories for a driver with only the one previous win.
But where were Ferrari? Two races, no points. As the Hitch-Hikers’ Guide has told us, Don’t Panic. It’s been worse: within living memory, the Prancing Horse has been withdrawn for several races of a Formula 1 season – well, for those of us of A Certain Age, it has.
Ferrari started the seventies with some purpose: Mauro Forghieri gave them the legendary flat-12 engined 312B car, and they were competitive. But by the end of 1972 they had ended a season with just one victory, and both preparation and reliability were poor. They were trying to keep two operations going: F1 had to share with the team’s commitment to sportscars. The three litre sportscar of that year was not dissimilar to the F1 car: ostensibly they had two seats, but for practical purposes, were single seaters with the driver’s position off centre. The sportscar had its wheelarches covered, and the engine tuned to last the longer distance – 1,000 kilometres, six hours, or the full 24 of Le Mans.
Push came to shove in 1973. F1 rule changes meant a new chassis, but Ferrari’s commitment to sportscars meant that the new car was short of development. By the time of the French GP, it was obvious that they were not competitive. So they didn’t show. This continued at the British race, and that soon after in the Netherlands. By the time of the German GP, Ferrari number one Jacky Ickx had had enough and appeared in a third McLaren (rules were different then) to take third place.
Ferrari did reappear later in the season, but to little effect: Ickx left, and they had to start over before 1974. And they lost the sportscar title to Matra, so ended up with nothing. They then had to choose. And, as did Indiana Jones, they chose wisely.
The 1974 Ferrari sportscar never did get an outing. They chose F1, and having focused the team on that one championship, they started once more to win.
Ferrari is the one link that runs through F1 from its beginning over half a century ago to the present day. Today’s F1 Fans may not know how close that link once came to breaking.
But where were Ferrari? Two races, no points. As the Hitch-Hikers’ Guide has told us, Don’t Panic. It’s been worse: within living memory, the Prancing Horse has been withdrawn for several races of a Formula 1 season – well, for those of us of A Certain Age, it has.
Ferrari started the seventies with some purpose: Mauro Forghieri gave them the legendary flat-12 engined 312B car, and they were competitive. But by the end of 1972 they had ended a season with just one victory, and both preparation and reliability were poor. They were trying to keep two operations going: F1 had to share with the team’s commitment to sportscars. The three litre sportscar of that year was not dissimilar to the F1 car: ostensibly they had two seats, but for practical purposes, were single seaters with the driver’s position off centre. The sportscar had its wheelarches covered, and the engine tuned to last the longer distance – 1,000 kilometres, six hours, or the full 24 of Le Mans.
Push came to shove in 1973. F1 rule changes meant a new chassis, but Ferrari’s commitment to sportscars meant that the new car was short of development. By the time of the French GP, it was obvious that they were not competitive. So they didn’t show. This continued at the British race, and that soon after in the Netherlands. By the time of the German GP, Ferrari number one Jacky Ickx had had enough and appeared in a third McLaren (rules were different then) to take third place.
Ferrari did reappear later in the season, but to little effect: Ickx left, and they had to start over before 1974. And they lost the sportscar title to Matra, so ended up with nothing. They then had to choose. And, as did Indiana Jones, they chose wisely.
The 1974 Ferrari sportscar never did get an outing. They chose F1, and having focused the team on that one championship, they started once more to win.
Ferrari is the one link that runs through F1 from its beginning over half a century ago to the present day. Today’s F1 Fans may not know how close that link once came to breaking.
Nothing Much Changes
Well, that’s the G20 over. The circus moves on. Today is, as ever, not very different to yesterday. Will it be any different after a General Election?
Let’s cut directly to the short answer: no.
Not even after the fullest exercising of the democratic process? Nope.
So why all the cheerleading behind the various parties? It’s true, there are good people out there who believe that they can make a difference, and that their parties can too. It’s as true now as it was in May 1997: after that date, and that victory, there was only one way that Labour Party membership was going to go: down. Some stayed on; others realised that there wasn’t going to be change, or not as much as they hoped. If the Tories win next time round, they will suffer in the same way.
More, they will find the probing of the various media organisations will not abate just because of the change of stripe. The spin, leaks, investigations, FOI requests, public disillusionment – all will continue.
On a quiet day at the office last year, I was flicking through the feedback to an article on Guardian Online – whoops, that’s me bang to rights – and there was much adverse comment directed towards Pa Broon. Then, further down the comments, someone put forward the original thought of how long after a Tory victory it would take for David Cameron to be hated equally strongly.
The unusually unanimous view was not just that this state would be reached, but reached in short order.
With this I have to agree: Cameron is good at soundbites, slick presentation, at opposing the government. What he would do when gifted the levers of power I have little idea. What is more, I remain unconvinced that he and his party have much more.
Plus ça change, and all that.
Let’s cut directly to the short answer: no.
Not even after the fullest exercising of the democratic process? Nope.
So why all the cheerleading behind the various parties? It’s true, there are good people out there who believe that they can make a difference, and that their parties can too. It’s as true now as it was in May 1997: after that date, and that victory, there was only one way that Labour Party membership was going to go: down. Some stayed on; others realised that there wasn’t going to be change, or not as much as they hoped. If the Tories win next time round, they will suffer in the same way.
More, they will find the probing of the various media organisations will not abate just because of the change of stripe. The spin, leaks, investigations, FOI requests, public disillusionment – all will continue.
On a quiet day at the office last year, I was flicking through the feedback to an article on Guardian Online – whoops, that’s me bang to rights – and there was much adverse comment directed towards Pa Broon. Then, further down the comments, someone put forward the original thought of how long after a Tory victory it would take for David Cameron to be hated equally strongly.
The unusually unanimous view was not just that this state would be reached, but reached in short order.
With this I have to agree: Cameron is good at soundbites, slick presentation, at opposing the government. What he would do when gifted the levers of power I have little idea. What is more, I remain unconvinced that he and his party have much more.
Plus ça change, and all that.
Friday, 3 April 2009
Eternal Flame
Top Ten competitions abound. Rail enthusiasts have had another to discuss recently: most beautiful stations. Brits can feel proud: St Pancras International, as it now calls itself, won.
Further down the list was Madrid’s Estacion de Atocha. This entry can only be for the conversion of the old station’s train shed into an open space – the “palm house”. For most who transit Atocha on a daily basis, the idea of the place as top ten material will be seen with a mixture of disbelief and grim humour: those travellers are commuters using the Cercanias, or suburban, station, its low level platforms covered over by the long stay car park and lending a dark and stygian atmosphere. It was here that some of the March 2004 bombs were detonated.
The following year, we in the UK became the next target for the Al Qaeda franchise. Here, too, were underground explosions, terrible loss of life, worlds disrupted. Here we have had the debate, and it still rumbles on: how do we remember our loss?
In Madrid, the problem was straightforward: any idea of a memorial or place for reflection in the station area at Atocha was out. This is where people are on the move, and even at the stand up snack bars you don’t linger for long. There is no space for quiet reflection. But the need to remember was there. After all, 192 lives had been lost.
The solution you will find in the nearby Parque del Retiro. Here, between the Porta Angel Caido and La Chopera, is a newly formed green hill – yes, a green hill without a city wall – surrounded by water, lovingly tidied and constantly guarded, called Bosque del Recuerdo. That’s “Forest of Remembrance” in English.
King Juan Carlos and Queen Sofia inaugurated this area of remembrance a year on from the bombings, accompanied by many other dignitaries, but there were no speeches, just five minutes of unbroken silence.
Every victim is remembered here: there are 192 trees, 22 olives and 170 cypresses. Each day, many from Madrid and elsewhere visit, making the short climb to the top of the hill, there to pause and remember.
I am happy to admit that I am one of them.
[The inscription in front of the Bosque del Recuerdo can be seen here, and there is a general view here]
Further down the list was Madrid’s Estacion de Atocha. This entry can only be for the conversion of the old station’s train shed into an open space – the “palm house”. For most who transit Atocha on a daily basis, the idea of the place as top ten material will be seen with a mixture of disbelief and grim humour: those travellers are commuters using the Cercanias, or suburban, station, its low level platforms covered over by the long stay car park and lending a dark and stygian atmosphere. It was here that some of the March 2004 bombs were detonated.
The following year, we in the UK became the next target for the Al Qaeda franchise. Here, too, were underground explosions, terrible loss of life, worlds disrupted. Here we have had the debate, and it still rumbles on: how do we remember our loss?
In Madrid, the problem was straightforward: any idea of a memorial or place for reflection in the station area at Atocha was out. This is where people are on the move, and even at the stand up snack bars you don’t linger for long. There is no space for quiet reflection. But the need to remember was there. After all, 192 lives had been lost.
The solution you will find in the nearby Parque del Retiro. Here, between the Porta Angel Caido and La Chopera, is a newly formed green hill – yes, a green hill without a city wall – surrounded by water, lovingly tidied and constantly guarded, called Bosque del Recuerdo. That’s “Forest of Remembrance” in English.
King Juan Carlos and Queen Sofia inaugurated this area of remembrance a year on from the bombings, accompanied by many other dignitaries, but there were no speeches, just five minutes of unbroken silence.
Every victim is remembered here: there are 192 trees, 22 olives and 170 cypresses. Each day, many from Madrid and elsewhere visit, making the short climb to the top of the hill, there to pause and remember.
I am happy to admit that I am one of them.
[The inscription in front of the Bosque del Recuerdo can be seen here, and there is a general view here]
French Bad, French Good
Eurosceptics are an interesting bunch. They are invariably ready with the usual battery of soundbites: unelected bureaucrats, federal drift, Brussels diktat, all are deployed against the perceived array of dreadful foreigners telling us free spirited Brits what to do. And as for the French, well, for them a particularly strong scorn is reserved: we have to put up with all the directives, so the tale goes, but the French can just please themselves and get away with it. Thus the EU is portrayed as being biased against the UK, a playing field that will never be level – or not as level as some would like.
And then along comes the G20.
The medium term, sustainable, prudent defender of the colour Broon is perceived here as wanting further “fiscal stimulus” – for which read more government spending – from other participants in the proceedings. In this he is further perceived as allied to new White House incumbent Barack Obama. Not all Eurosceptics resist any idea of further government intervention – or even any government intervention – but there is, as the average statistician might say, a strong correlation between the two.
So, when German chancellor Angela Merkel and French president Nicolas Sarkozy came out against further government intervention, with Sarko even suggesting that he might not sign the end of conference communiqué, Eurosceptics were in new territory. They’re suspicious of the Germans, and dislike the French, but hate Pa Broon even more. So the French go from dastardly zero to financially sound hero in one bound.
Now, all it needs to tie the silly beggars up in knots properly is for Jean-Claude Trichet to signal the adoption by the European Central Bank (ECB) of a sound money policy. Again, not all Eurosceptics are paid up members of the Freddie Hayek Glee Club, but there’s another of those strong correlations.
Of course that won’t happen. Which is good for your average Eurosceptic: too many about turns and folks might wonder where you really stand.
[Postscript: It was no surprise to me that the spoiling chucker of the Microsoft product used to put this post together managed Obama and Merkel, but not Sarkozy]
And then along comes the G20.
The medium term, sustainable, prudent defender of the colour Broon is perceived here as wanting further “fiscal stimulus” – for which read more government spending – from other participants in the proceedings. In this he is further perceived as allied to new White House incumbent Barack Obama. Not all Eurosceptics resist any idea of further government intervention – or even any government intervention – but there is, as the average statistician might say, a strong correlation between the two.
So, when German chancellor Angela Merkel and French president Nicolas Sarkozy came out against further government intervention, with Sarko even suggesting that he might not sign the end of conference communiqué, Eurosceptics were in new territory. They’re suspicious of the Germans, and dislike the French, but hate Pa Broon even more. So the French go from dastardly zero to financially sound hero in one bound.
Now, all it needs to tie the silly beggars up in knots properly is for Jean-Claude Trichet to signal the adoption by the European Central Bank (ECB) of a sound money policy. Again, not all Eurosceptics are paid up members of the Freddie Hayek Glee Club, but there’s another of those strong correlations.
Of course that won’t happen. Which is good for your average Eurosceptic: too many about turns and folks might wonder where you really stand.
[Postscript: It was no surprise to me that the spoiling chucker of the Microsoft product used to put this post together managed Obama and Merkel, but not Sarkozy]
Thursday, 2 April 2009
A Little More Joy
An email arrives from Simon Latham, who is secretary of CREAM, set up to focus opposition to the frankly potty Network Rail (NR) plan to move Crewe station south to a greenfield site at Basford. CREAM’s blog site can be found here, along with contact details.
And if you check out that site, you’ll see that the group is still focused on the now urgent need to update the station on its present site. The plans have been there for some time, and money had apparently been made available, so why wait? For starters, the removal of the ageing overall roof structures in favour of new canopies – as has already been done over on Platform 12 – should be going ahead.
Personal observations suggest that NR are merely patching and mending existing roof and canopy structures. This is not good enough. A station of this size, with a user base that can only grow in the longer term, needs the work doing sooner rather than later.
At least the long stay car park is to receive some attention. The good news is that, over the Easter holidays, there will be resurfacing and “a new pedestrian walkway”, whatever that may be.
It’s a start. But we need to go further, and faster.
[Those checking out the CREAM site will see that there has even been an Early Day Motion in Parliament on the issue. And as to why this matter is still not being seriously addressed by the area’s MP, I will return]
And if you check out that site, you’ll see that the group is still focused on the now urgent need to update the station on its present site. The plans have been there for some time, and money had apparently been made available, so why wait? For starters, the removal of the ageing overall roof structures in favour of new canopies – as has already been done over on Platform 12 – should be going ahead.
Personal observations suggest that NR are merely patching and mending existing roof and canopy structures. This is not good enough. A station of this size, with a user base that can only grow in the longer term, needs the work doing sooner rather than later.
At least the long stay car park is to receive some attention. The good news is that, over the Easter holidays, there will be resurfacing and “a new pedestrian walkway”, whatever that may be.
It’s a start. But we need to go further, and faster.
[Those checking out the CREAM site will see that there has even been an Early Day Motion in Parliament on the issue. And as to why this matter is still not being seriously addressed by the area’s MP, I will return]
Crikey and Yikes – I’m off, Readers!
The eyes of the world are on the G20, which may be a relief for the Tories, particularly in London. Because, while in mid-answer before the Commons’ Transport Select Committee this afternoon, Mayor of London Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson declined to continue his appearance and walked out.
This Mayor business is proving rather taxing on Boris. He’s shipped several deputies already, there’s been backpedalling on Congestion Charging zones, the Cross River Tram’s been binned, and now the Transport Select Committee has had the temerity to suggest that his handling of the disruption to transport following recent snowfalls might not be up to scratch.
It’s not as if he wasn’t warned. Ken Livingstone – who might just know about the demands of the job, having done it for two full terms – warned that Boris would need to be a full time Mayor. But Johnson’s continuing to write regular columns for the Telegraph suggests he is allocating some of his time elsewhere.
Just what is driving the Johnson mayoralty? What are the big themes? Are there any? The cancelling of the Cross River Tram is one particularly worrying development: London is the one city in the UK that can point to a half decent and reasonably integrated public transport offering. Improving that offering – getting good quality services into areas that need them – is an essential part of giving Londoners an alternative to the private car. As other cities have shown – Madrid and Barcelona being two recent examples – there are times when a full blown Metro system can’t be justified, but you need something better than buses. Thus the modern tram.
Ken Livingstone realised that, in London, even the tram would need planning and commitment. He also realised that buses could be done much more quickly, and the next best people mover after a tram is a bendy bus. Johnson’s decision to phase out these vehicles on the flimsiest of pretexts would make matters worse. And his idea of developing a “new Routemaster” is just potty. No safety regime anywhere in the western world would countenance the development of such a vehicle, and London isn’t going to be an exception. It isn’t going to happen.
Quit farting around, Boris. Take this job seriously – shape up, or ship out.
This Mayor business is proving rather taxing on Boris. He’s shipped several deputies already, there’s been backpedalling on Congestion Charging zones, the Cross River Tram’s been binned, and now the Transport Select Committee has had the temerity to suggest that his handling of the disruption to transport following recent snowfalls might not be up to scratch.
It’s not as if he wasn’t warned. Ken Livingstone – who might just know about the demands of the job, having done it for two full terms – warned that Boris would need to be a full time Mayor. But Johnson’s continuing to write regular columns for the Telegraph suggests he is allocating some of his time elsewhere.
Just what is driving the Johnson mayoralty? What are the big themes? Are there any? The cancelling of the Cross River Tram is one particularly worrying development: London is the one city in the UK that can point to a half decent and reasonably integrated public transport offering. Improving that offering – getting good quality services into areas that need them – is an essential part of giving Londoners an alternative to the private car. As other cities have shown – Madrid and Barcelona being two recent examples – there are times when a full blown Metro system can’t be justified, but you need something better than buses. Thus the modern tram.
Ken Livingstone realised that, in London, even the tram would need planning and commitment. He also realised that buses could be done much more quickly, and the next best people mover after a tram is a bendy bus. Johnson’s decision to phase out these vehicles on the flimsiest of pretexts would make matters worse. And his idea of developing a “new Routemaster” is just potty. No safety regime anywhere in the western world would countenance the development of such a vehicle, and London isn’t going to be an exception. It isn’t going to happen.
Quit farting around, Boris. Take this job seriously – shape up, or ship out.
Wednesday, 1 April 2009
Quality Street Again
I’m not too hot on toffee pennies. And there are always more of them than the purple ones, or the green triangles. Yes, Quality Street is a bit like the EU. We want the bits that appeal to us, and hate the ones that don’t. But if we buy into it, we have to have both. And that takes us back to Spain.
Or France. Or Italy, Greece or Portugal. But in Spain we get the largest numbers – of expat Brits. More than three quarters of a million of them. With most living in what are effectively Anglophone ghettos, making no attempt to learn one of Spain’s main languages, or otherwise integrate into the wider society. Many also work in Spain – a direct benefit of EU membership. Many more take advantage of the route network of the low cost airlines to keep holiday homes – both the right to own property elsewhere in the EU, and the liberalisation of air travel are, again, direct benefits of EU membership.
There are benefits at home: Nissan, Toyota, Honda – all have set up production facilities in the UK to enable them to sell into the wider EU marketplace. Were we not in the European club, there would be no point in them staying. Anyone for a rather more permanent “production holiday”? And there should be no need to mention the financial services industry, and the potential loss of business arising from losing EU membership.
But countries outside the EU are also able to trade with those inside, aren’t they? Yes they are. But consider this: it’s one thing negotiating from inside a club, where you’ve got a say, but quite another being outside, where you ultimately have to do business on terms decided by others.
So what is our problem with the EU? Perhaps it’s a language thing?
If so, that would be strange, especially as the main working language of the EU is, as I’m sure is universally known, English. For that, we have the much derided Neil Kinnock to thank.
That’s two facts that the Murdoch and Rothermere press won’t be stressing any time soon. Unfortunately, many politicians and commentators have also developed a blind spot on the positive aspects of EU membership. And that’s a pity.
Or France. Or Italy, Greece or Portugal. But in Spain we get the largest numbers – of expat Brits. More than three quarters of a million of them. With most living in what are effectively Anglophone ghettos, making no attempt to learn one of Spain’s main languages, or otherwise integrate into the wider society. Many also work in Spain – a direct benefit of EU membership. Many more take advantage of the route network of the low cost airlines to keep holiday homes – both the right to own property elsewhere in the EU, and the liberalisation of air travel are, again, direct benefits of EU membership.
There are benefits at home: Nissan, Toyota, Honda – all have set up production facilities in the UK to enable them to sell into the wider EU marketplace. Were we not in the European club, there would be no point in them staying. Anyone for a rather more permanent “production holiday”? And there should be no need to mention the financial services industry, and the potential loss of business arising from losing EU membership.
But countries outside the EU are also able to trade with those inside, aren’t they? Yes they are. But consider this: it’s one thing negotiating from inside a club, where you’ve got a say, but quite another being outside, where you ultimately have to do business on terms decided by others.
So what is our problem with the EU? Perhaps it’s a language thing?
If so, that would be strange, especially as the main working language of the EU is, as I’m sure is universally known, English. For that, we have the much derided Neil Kinnock to thank.
That’s two facts that the Murdoch and Rothermere press won’t be stressing any time soon. Unfortunately, many politicians and commentators have also developed a blind spot on the positive aspects of EU membership. And that’s a pity.
Attribute Export Strategy
How does a political party rid itself of less than flattering descriptions that have inconveniently lodged in the public mind? Simple – dump them on the opposition.
I’ve already mentioned the Tory painting of Labour as “stupid”. This reverses the impression of the last years of John Major, with an incumbent Prime Minister seen as not quite up to the task, and a sharp, clever young challenger. But why stop there?
Why indeed. And here, yet again, the Tories have seen the Class issue coming over the horizon and acted swiftly. What the electorate might conclude when offered a party whose new stars went to very good schools, took the best kind of degrees, and had a rather good time on the way, is that they might just be out of touch with ordinary people. You might not empathise with the checkout staff at Asda when someone else does the shopping.
The solution is straightforward: dump that one on Labour. So we have the sight of the Rt Hon Gideon George Oliver Osborne, heir to the seventeenth Baronet, and someone who has little experience of the world outside politics, telling us that Pa Broon – or any other minister in the news at the time – is out of touch with the electorate. It’s industrial strength drivel. Osborne might represent Tatton, but the thought of him soiling his hands popping into Booth’s to do the shopping does not enter. And neither will the regulars at the Red Cow be seeing him any time soon.
Osborne is also in the vanguard when it comes to dumping yet another key attribute on Labour: that of what then chairman Theresa May called the idea that they were the “nasty party”. So Osborne simply labels Pa Broon as “cruel”. Another one crossed off the list.
This is also drivel, as anyone who “enjoyed” the effects of over reliance on monetary policy, and savage budgets, of the early Thatcher years will know. So best not to give the electorate time to think – just keep up the assault.
And the Shadow Chancellor isn’t through with this tactic yet. Just to underline the deliberate use of the idea, he clumsily fielded a question on whether his grasp of minutiae showed a slight autism by, you guessed it, accusing Pa Broon of being autistic.
Here, in summary, is the politics of the playground: “No, that’s you”. It might keep opposition minds occupied, but that kind of approach in government would not do.
I’ve already mentioned the Tory painting of Labour as “stupid”. This reverses the impression of the last years of John Major, with an incumbent Prime Minister seen as not quite up to the task, and a sharp, clever young challenger. But why stop there?
Why indeed. And here, yet again, the Tories have seen the Class issue coming over the horizon and acted swiftly. What the electorate might conclude when offered a party whose new stars went to very good schools, took the best kind of degrees, and had a rather good time on the way, is that they might just be out of touch with ordinary people. You might not empathise with the checkout staff at Asda when someone else does the shopping.
The solution is straightforward: dump that one on Labour. So we have the sight of the Rt Hon Gideon George Oliver Osborne, heir to the seventeenth Baronet, and someone who has little experience of the world outside politics, telling us that Pa Broon – or any other minister in the news at the time – is out of touch with the electorate. It’s industrial strength drivel. Osborne might represent Tatton, but the thought of him soiling his hands popping into Booth’s to do the shopping does not enter. And neither will the regulars at the Red Cow be seeing him any time soon.
Osborne is also in the vanguard when it comes to dumping yet another key attribute on Labour: that of what then chairman Theresa May called the idea that they were the “nasty party”. So Osborne simply labels Pa Broon as “cruel”. Another one crossed off the list.
This is also drivel, as anyone who “enjoyed” the effects of over reliance on monetary policy, and savage budgets, of the early Thatcher years will know. So best not to give the electorate time to think – just keep up the assault.
And the Shadow Chancellor isn’t through with this tactic yet. Just to underline the deliberate use of the idea, he clumsily fielded a question on whether his grasp of minutiae showed a slight autism by, you guessed it, accusing Pa Broon of being autistic.
Here, in summary, is the politics of the playground: “No, that’s you”. It might keep opposition minds occupied, but that kind of approach in government would not do.
Wheelered Out The Door
Like poor old Dusty Bin, Stuart Wheeler has been rejected by the Tory Party. He can’t say it wasn’t coming to him, and neither can he have any complaints. You want to support UKIP? Fine. Just don’t expect to remain as a member of another party at the same time.
David Cameron knows that he must be not only decisive, but consistently so. Having dealt with Derek Conway and Giles Chichester, he had no alternative with Wheeler: anything that smacks of “a party within a party” summons up visions of Militant, and Neil Kinnock faced them down. To appear less strong and decisive than Kinnock just would not do. That is all there is to it. Those who have been accusing the likes of Iain Dale (and there is no blogger greater than he) of having some kind of other agenda on this issue miss the obvious point: Dale has been following politics, particularly Tory ones, for long enough to know that Cameron would have Wheeler expelled. He was therefore in a win-win situation: he could call for Wheeler’s head, knowing that expulsion would follow, then be able to say that he told us so. Job done!
But however decisive Cameron is, the E-word, and the spectre of UKIP, continues to hang over the Tories, aided and abetted by the screaming Europhobia of the Murdoch and Rothermere press. You want examples? Let’s pick a Euro-issue, any Euro-issue ... I know – Working Time Directive! 48 hours? How dare those foreigners tell us how many hours a week we can put in?
Of course, the 48 hours is not an EU diktat. Nobody is being told they can’t work more than 48 hours a week - if they want to. And there’s the rub: this is about personal freedom. So where’s David Davis when you need him? Fancy a byelection on a freedom issue, Dave? You wouldn’t want to come over all inconsistent, just because it’s a Euro-issue, would you?
But, say anti-Europeans, there’s more to it than that. What about all those unelected bureaucrats? What indeed. So we’ve started to put the Civil Service up for regular election, have we? We haven’t? So what makes our unelected bureaucrats different to the ones in Brussels?
Third time lucky, Eurosceptics? Here’s another common idea: we’re drifting into some kind of uniform Euro-state. If so, then riddle me this: in Germany, your income tax is collected by what we would call local government. After Margaret Thatcher’s vindictive demonisation of local government in the 1980s, and the subsequent centralisation of power – maintained by all her successors – there is little likelihood of the UK going down that road.
The idea of strong regional identity has also been pursued in Spain, and during its period of EU membership. I will return to matters Anglo-Spanish (in a European context, of course) later.
David Cameron knows that he must be not only decisive, but consistently so. Having dealt with Derek Conway and Giles Chichester, he had no alternative with Wheeler: anything that smacks of “a party within a party” summons up visions of Militant, and Neil Kinnock faced them down. To appear less strong and decisive than Kinnock just would not do. That is all there is to it. Those who have been accusing the likes of Iain Dale (and there is no blogger greater than he) of having some kind of other agenda on this issue miss the obvious point: Dale has been following politics, particularly Tory ones, for long enough to know that Cameron would have Wheeler expelled. He was therefore in a win-win situation: he could call for Wheeler’s head, knowing that expulsion would follow, then be able to say that he told us so. Job done!
But however decisive Cameron is, the E-word, and the spectre of UKIP, continues to hang over the Tories, aided and abetted by the screaming Europhobia of the Murdoch and Rothermere press. You want examples? Let’s pick a Euro-issue, any Euro-issue ... I know – Working Time Directive! 48 hours? How dare those foreigners tell us how many hours a week we can put in?
Of course, the 48 hours is not an EU diktat. Nobody is being told they can’t work more than 48 hours a week - if they want to. And there’s the rub: this is about personal freedom. So where’s David Davis when you need him? Fancy a byelection on a freedom issue, Dave? You wouldn’t want to come over all inconsistent, just because it’s a Euro-issue, would you?
But, say anti-Europeans, there’s more to it than that. What about all those unelected bureaucrats? What indeed. So we’ve started to put the Civil Service up for regular election, have we? We haven’t? So what makes our unelected bureaucrats different to the ones in Brussels?
Third time lucky, Eurosceptics? Here’s another common idea: we’re drifting into some kind of uniform Euro-state. If so, then riddle me this: in Germany, your income tax is collected by what we would call local government. After Margaret Thatcher’s vindictive demonisation of local government in the 1980s, and the subsequent centralisation of power – maintained by all her successors – there is little likelihood of the UK going down that road.
The idea of strong regional identity has also been pursued in Spain, and during its period of EU membership. I will return to matters Anglo-Spanish (in a European context, of course) later.
I Want You to Drink All of That, Eric
A disturbance behind the Speaker’s chair is nothing new, as Neil Kinnock and Norman Tebbit will know. So there was a scuffle in the corridor last night. So what? Ah well. We have the conjunction of “drinks party” and the Karl Rove of the Tory Party, Eric Pickles, that’s what.
If Labour didn’t know what to expect from today’s Tory party in general, and Fat Eric in particular, before the Crewe and Nantwich byelection, they certainly knew afterwards. As I’ve shown, the Tories have hit on a simple tactic: take your own negative attributes and dump them on Labour. In Crewe and Nantwich, the negative was racism. The Tories, after all, were the party of Smethwick, of John Enoch Powell, even of the internal undermining of the unfortunate John Taylor in Cheltenham. Best avoid having any of that kind of thing sticking to you.
The Tories’ opportunity was gifted to them by a Labour election leaflet early in the campaign – early enough to get traction and do damage – which mentioned the idea of ID cards for foreign nationals. As with so much of the waste paper doing the rounds at the time, I glanced at it and sent it on its way to the recycling container. Heard it all before.
But Crewe, in particular, has a large population of migrants from other EU countries, notably Poland. Thus the Tory opportunity. The Labour leaflet was perhaps clumsy, and certainly unhelpful. But racist? I doubt that there was any intent in that direction, but the Tories were off and running. They had been gifted an opportunity to dump one of their most severe and enduring negatives on Labour, and did not hold back. Fat Eric, who prides himself on his anti-racism, trowelled on the righteousness, lecturing his opponents that “we’ve all got to rub along together after this election”.
Labour could not clean off that particular stain, no matter how much senior firepower they deployed in their defence, before polling day. All the Tory visitors were, of course, up to speed on the issue and piled in behind Fat Eric. What a joy, to be able to dump the race issue on another party – any other party!
But what goes around, comes around. Fat Eric’s “righteous Yorkie” approach has not made him popular outside the Tory party. It was no surprise to see on the face of Lib Dem MP Ed Davey, during Pickles’ less than assured Question Time performance recently, a look not so much of dislike, but of downright detestation. Pickles has been more than a little abrasive towards the Lib Dems over local government matters, and his elevation to party chairman means that any suggestion that David Cameron could do deals with Nick Clegg has one big fat roadblock in its way.
Labour, too, with Prince of Darkness Peter Mandelson back in harness, will be looking to exploit any weakness in the Tory armour, and with the desire to pay Fat Eric back with interest over his suggestion of racism.
If Labour didn’t know what to expect from today’s Tory party in general, and Fat Eric in particular, before the Crewe and Nantwich byelection, they certainly knew afterwards. As I’ve shown, the Tories have hit on a simple tactic: take your own negative attributes and dump them on Labour. In Crewe and Nantwich, the negative was racism. The Tories, after all, were the party of Smethwick, of John Enoch Powell, even of the internal undermining of the unfortunate John Taylor in Cheltenham. Best avoid having any of that kind of thing sticking to you.
The Tories’ opportunity was gifted to them by a Labour election leaflet early in the campaign – early enough to get traction and do damage – which mentioned the idea of ID cards for foreign nationals. As with so much of the waste paper doing the rounds at the time, I glanced at it and sent it on its way to the recycling container. Heard it all before.
But Crewe, in particular, has a large population of migrants from other EU countries, notably Poland. Thus the Tory opportunity. The Labour leaflet was perhaps clumsy, and certainly unhelpful. But racist? I doubt that there was any intent in that direction, but the Tories were off and running. They had been gifted an opportunity to dump one of their most severe and enduring negatives on Labour, and did not hold back. Fat Eric, who prides himself on his anti-racism, trowelled on the righteousness, lecturing his opponents that “we’ve all got to rub along together after this election”.
Labour could not clean off that particular stain, no matter how much senior firepower they deployed in their defence, before polling day. All the Tory visitors were, of course, up to speed on the issue and piled in behind Fat Eric. What a joy, to be able to dump the race issue on another party – any other party!
But what goes around, comes around. Fat Eric’s “righteous Yorkie” approach has not made him popular outside the Tory party. It was no surprise to see on the face of Lib Dem MP Ed Davey, during Pickles’ less than assured Question Time performance recently, a look not so much of dislike, but of downright detestation. Pickles has been more than a little abrasive towards the Lib Dems over local government matters, and his elevation to party chairman means that any suggestion that David Cameron could do deals with Nick Clegg has one big fat roadblock in its way.
Labour, too, with Prince of Darkness Peter Mandelson back in harness, will be looking to exploit any weakness in the Tory armour, and with the desire to pay Fat Eric back with interest over his suggestion of racism.
Monday, 30 March 2009
A Unique Serving
The pub or bar, it is sometimes suggested, needs to continually re-invent itself to stay in business. Move with the times. Stay in the past and wither away.
It ain’t necessarily so.
Revisiting places gives two kinds of opportunities: finding new haunts, and seeking out old ones. So it was last week in Madrid.
The old area of the city north of Calle de las Huertas, home to many bars, restaurants and clubs, is not looking good nowadays. Many establishments have closed, and others seem quiet compared to the first time I visited back in 2001. But one bar, specialising in one tipple, and only one tipple, is standing room only.
At the north end of Calle de Echegaray, and with a frontage so narrow that to walk past too quickly might mean missing it altogether, is La Venencia. And here the drink is solely sherry. And that’s sherry as in Jerez, not some feeble fortified wine produced in the UK from imported concentrate.
Most punters stand at or near the bar: the measures are served along with a simple tapa – most recently of very green and very good olives – with the cost chalked up on the bar top. The clientele is a genuine mix of locals and tourists, young and old, male and female, singles and groups.
I can find only one word of warning: that La Venencia is more than moderately smoky. There has, I believe, been a smoking ban in Spain, but with the proviso of an opt-out. Allow smoking in Spain? Now there’s a surprise – not. So your shirt might have a tobacco aura the next day.
But the idea that cities are becoming uniform and bland, and that nothing stays the same, do not stand serious examination in this corner of old Madrid.
It ain’t necessarily so.
Revisiting places gives two kinds of opportunities: finding new haunts, and seeking out old ones. So it was last week in Madrid.
The old area of the city north of Calle de las Huertas, home to many bars, restaurants and clubs, is not looking good nowadays. Many establishments have closed, and others seem quiet compared to the first time I visited back in 2001. But one bar, specialising in one tipple, and only one tipple, is standing room only.
At the north end of Calle de Echegaray, and with a frontage so narrow that to walk past too quickly might mean missing it altogether, is La Venencia. And here the drink is solely sherry. And that’s sherry as in Jerez, not some feeble fortified wine produced in the UK from imported concentrate.
Most punters stand at or near the bar: the measures are served along with a simple tapa – most recently of very green and very good olives – with the cost chalked up on the bar top. The clientele is a genuine mix of locals and tourists, young and old, male and female, singles and groups.
I can find only one word of warning: that La Venencia is more than moderately smoky. There has, I believe, been a smoking ban in Spain, but with the proviso of an opt-out. Allow smoking in Spain? Now there’s a surprise – not. So your shirt might have a tobacco aura the next day.
But the idea that cities are becoming uniform and bland, and that nothing stays the same, do not stand serious examination in this corner of old Madrid.
Class Act
The chamber of the House of Commons is small – too small, in fact, to comfortably accommodate all 650 MPs. This intimacy gets the protagonists close to one another. Compared to other parliaments and assemblies around the world, this place is a bear pit. Here, being on top of your brief is not an option.
And here it is that David Cameron is making his mark. Many see a nimble and spontaneous performer in him. I do not. Cameron has rehearsed to perfection, learnt his lines. The appearance of his anger at his Labour opponents is just that: this is faux anger, play acting – but it’s very good play acting.
The giveaway comes when his questioning technique is analysed. Whatever the answer from Pa Broon to Cameron’s first question, the second question has been prepared and is delivered regardless. Even the allegedly witty asides will have been scripted – supervised no doubt by Andy Coulson – so the Lord Myners jibe at Dennis Skinner wasn’t off the cuff, but the product of a “give me some ammunition to shut Skinner up” demand.
This is not to suggest that preparation is a bad thing. It is not. What is suggested is that Cameron as presented to the public is just that: a presentation for public consumption. And it is not a new idea: Blair was here first.
One thing that is genuine, however, is when the baying starts on the Tory benches, and anyone who has experienced even the most minor of public schools will recognise the attitude behind it. Here is the very real disdain for Brown and Labour: it is the sound of those who believe that they are born to rule – after all, it must be true as they had it drilled into them at school - and the oiky scholarship boy on the other side ought to know his place.
This is a key part of the Tory attack on Brown: they’re clever and sharp; he’s slow and stupid. Hence the swift Wikipedia edit to back up Cameron’s jibe on Titian: look Sir, the stupid boy over there can’t even get his dates right!
Anyone needing confirmation of the Tory attitude need look no further than the comments by MP Mark Field over Jacqui Smith’s expenses: “If she doesn't recognise that I think she's really a bit too stupid to be Home Secretary” he says, reported by the BBC here.
Some commentators talk of class war in politics. On the subject, I agree with them. It is on identifying the class waging the war that we diverge. And to the Tory party’s attempts to deflect the class issue, and shed its less agreeable past attributes, I will return.
And here it is that David Cameron is making his mark. Many see a nimble and spontaneous performer in him. I do not. Cameron has rehearsed to perfection, learnt his lines. The appearance of his anger at his Labour opponents is just that: this is faux anger, play acting – but it’s very good play acting.
The giveaway comes when his questioning technique is analysed. Whatever the answer from Pa Broon to Cameron’s first question, the second question has been prepared and is delivered regardless. Even the allegedly witty asides will have been scripted – supervised no doubt by Andy Coulson – so the Lord Myners jibe at Dennis Skinner wasn’t off the cuff, but the product of a “give me some ammunition to shut Skinner up” demand.
This is not to suggest that preparation is a bad thing. It is not. What is suggested is that Cameron as presented to the public is just that: a presentation for public consumption. And it is not a new idea: Blair was here first.
One thing that is genuine, however, is when the baying starts on the Tory benches, and anyone who has experienced even the most minor of public schools will recognise the attitude behind it. Here is the very real disdain for Brown and Labour: it is the sound of those who believe that they are born to rule – after all, it must be true as they had it drilled into them at school - and the oiky scholarship boy on the other side ought to know his place.
This is a key part of the Tory attack on Brown: they’re clever and sharp; he’s slow and stupid. Hence the swift Wikipedia edit to back up Cameron’s jibe on Titian: look Sir, the stupid boy over there can’t even get his dates right!
Anyone needing confirmation of the Tory attitude need look no further than the comments by MP Mark Field over Jacqui Smith’s expenses: “If she doesn't recognise that I think she's really a bit too stupid to be Home Secretary” he says, reported by the BBC here.
Some commentators talk of class war in politics. On the subject, I agree with them. It is on identifying the class waging the war that we diverge. And to the Tory party’s attempts to deflect the class issue, and shed its less agreeable past attributes, I will return.
Sunday, 29 March 2009
A Tale of Two Cities
The comparison I’m about to make will not make comfortable reading for politicians and planners in the UK, mainly because the shortcomings of the British approach have not gone away over the years. Here is what happened in two large, proud and thriving cities a thousand miles apart: Manchester and Valencia.
In the 1980s, both cities had a number of local rail services which came close in to the city centre, but didn’t serve the very heart of the city. In both cities, there were proposals to join the lines up using cross-city tunnels. In Valencia it happened; in Manchester, the tunnel didn’t happen, and Metrolink came instead. And here’s the problem. Valencia also brought in trams running at street level, but the tram and metro lines were entirely separate. Manchester’s Metrolink tried to be both metro and tram.
The result, in Manchester, is a solution done on the cheap. Metrolink crosses the city centre on the level, like a tram, but uses the high platforms it inherited from the rail routes that run out to Altrincham and Bury. So the city centre is strewn with elephantine street furniture to accommodate it. Also, the recently opened extension of the system to Eccles has the tracks leaving the public roadway to go into “refuges” at stops, requiring a wait at traffic signals to get back into the traffic. Progress is slow, and this in turn encourages deregulated buses to run in competition.
The lesson – that you either run a smaller version of a proper railway with high floor vehicles, or a street tram with low floor ones, but never mix them – has not been learned in Manchester, where extensions to Metrolink look set to continue the ideas that make the Eccles extension slow, and open to being picked off by the bus bandits.
Nowhere else in the UK has introduction of modern light rail systems copied the Metrolink template. Sheffield, Birmingham, Croydon, Nottingham – all have used partly or wholly low floor trams. The only scheme to use high floor vehicles is the Tyne and Wear Metro, which – surprise, surprise – runs as a smaller version of a proper railway, and underground in Newcastle city centre. Even then, the system has an image problem: the impression is given that it’s not safe to ride, especially at night. Who’s behind this? No prizes there: the bus bandits who’ve set up competing bus services.
Manchester’s Metrolink may start further expansion soon, but so much waits on the government in Westminster. Meanwhile in Valencia, another cross city tunnel is going ahead to accommodate further expansion of the now thriving metro system. The Valencianos have the commitment, Spain’s regional policy means that the decision making process does not wait on what Madrid thinks – and bus deregulation does not apply.
Thus the tale of two cities.
In the 1980s, both cities had a number of local rail services which came close in to the city centre, but didn’t serve the very heart of the city. In both cities, there were proposals to join the lines up using cross-city tunnels. In Valencia it happened; in Manchester, the tunnel didn’t happen, and Metrolink came instead. And here’s the problem. Valencia also brought in trams running at street level, but the tram and metro lines were entirely separate. Manchester’s Metrolink tried to be both metro and tram.
The result, in Manchester, is a solution done on the cheap. Metrolink crosses the city centre on the level, like a tram, but uses the high platforms it inherited from the rail routes that run out to Altrincham and Bury. So the city centre is strewn with elephantine street furniture to accommodate it. Also, the recently opened extension of the system to Eccles has the tracks leaving the public roadway to go into “refuges” at stops, requiring a wait at traffic signals to get back into the traffic. Progress is slow, and this in turn encourages deregulated buses to run in competition.
The lesson – that you either run a smaller version of a proper railway with high floor vehicles, or a street tram with low floor ones, but never mix them – has not been learned in Manchester, where extensions to Metrolink look set to continue the ideas that make the Eccles extension slow, and open to being picked off by the bus bandits.
Nowhere else in the UK has introduction of modern light rail systems copied the Metrolink template. Sheffield, Birmingham, Croydon, Nottingham – all have used partly or wholly low floor trams. The only scheme to use high floor vehicles is the Tyne and Wear Metro, which – surprise, surprise – runs as a smaller version of a proper railway, and underground in Newcastle city centre. Even then, the system has an image problem: the impression is given that it’s not safe to ride, especially at night. Who’s behind this? No prizes there: the bus bandits who’ve set up competing bus services.
Manchester’s Metrolink may start further expansion soon, but so much waits on the government in Westminster. Meanwhile in Valencia, another cross city tunnel is going ahead to accommodate further expansion of the now thriving metro system. The Valencianos have the commitment, Spain’s regional policy means that the decision making process does not wait on what Madrid thinks – and bus deregulation does not apply.
Thus the tale of two cities.
Eddie’s Balloon Filler
Another free paper arrives on the doormat. In Crewe you get at least two of them a week: occasionally I see the delivery bod and say hello. They’re agreeable folk, but on one subject they’re not for moving: one copy of what they’re delivering is going through your letter box, whether you want it or not.
And last week, we had the face we see too often, with the headline we know won’t result in anything changing. Once again, it’s Edward Timpson (the man with marginally more charisma than a Burton’s dummy), and he tells us it’s “Time to get Tough”.
On “yobs” this time, so the thinly veiled reheated press release tells us. There will, in the new Tory utopia, be no more namby-pamby “moving on” of these people. The police will instead escort them to the nearest cop shop, where “new curfew orders could ‘ground’ persistent troublemakers at night after school hours”. Also there would be more “robust” enforcement of the licensing laws. And, guess what, there’s the old chestnut about “cutting police paperwork and bureaucracy”.
Call me sceptical, because I am sceptical. What’s the difference between a Labour ASBO and an all new Tory “Curfew Order”? And what about the ones who aren’t at school? And just what lies behind the present level of police paperwork? Here’s something I found on the Home Office website:
“Police and Criminal Evidence Act 1984 (PACE) and accompanying Codes of Practice
The Police and Criminal Evidence Act (PACE) and the PACE Codes of Practice provide the core framework of police powers and safeguards around stop and search, arrest, detention, investigation, identification and interviewing detainees.”
Just exactly who was prime minister in 1984? Margaret Thatcher. So if Eddie, and any of the other Tories who love to rabbit on about “paperwork and bureaucracy”, are suggesting that their own legislation was wrong, how about they say so straightforwardly and unequivocally?
And, Eddie, when you’ve figured that one out, tell us how you’re going to pay for this. Don’t forget that you’re releasing this attempt to sound tough at the same time as Council Tax bills – with the police charges itemised – are, like the free paper, dropping onto doormats across the constituency.
Because, until and unless you stop flannelling and start doing (I will return to the growing list of areas where Eddie is doing either very little or nothing at all later), then all you’re producing is more balloon filler.
And that’s just hot air.
And last week, we had the face we see too often, with the headline we know won’t result in anything changing. Once again, it’s Edward Timpson (the man with marginally more charisma than a Burton’s dummy), and he tells us it’s “Time to get Tough”.
On “yobs” this time, so the thinly veiled reheated press release tells us. There will, in the new Tory utopia, be no more namby-pamby “moving on” of these people. The police will instead escort them to the nearest cop shop, where “new curfew orders could ‘ground’ persistent troublemakers at night after school hours”. Also there would be more “robust” enforcement of the licensing laws. And, guess what, there’s the old chestnut about “cutting police paperwork and bureaucracy”.
Call me sceptical, because I am sceptical. What’s the difference between a Labour ASBO and an all new Tory “Curfew Order”? And what about the ones who aren’t at school? And just what lies behind the present level of police paperwork? Here’s something I found on the Home Office website:
“Police and Criminal Evidence Act 1984 (PACE) and accompanying Codes of Practice
The Police and Criminal Evidence Act (PACE) and the PACE Codes of Practice provide the core framework of police powers and safeguards around stop and search, arrest, detention, investigation, identification and interviewing detainees.”
Just exactly who was prime minister in 1984? Margaret Thatcher. So if Eddie, and any of the other Tories who love to rabbit on about “paperwork and bureaucracy”, are suggesting that their own legislation was wrong, how about they say so straightforwardly and unequivocally?
And, Eddie, when you’ve figured that one out, tell us how you’re going to pay for this. Don’t forget that you’re releasing this attempt to sound tough at the same time as Council Tax bills – with the police charges itemised – are, like the free paper, dropping onto doormats across the constituency.
Because, until and unless you stop flannelling and start doing (I will return to the growing list of areas where Eddie is doing either very little or nothing at all later), then all you’re producing is more balloon filler.
And that’s just hot air.
Buyer’s Market
Car production in the UK is down substantially on the same period last year. Partly we’re not surprised: temporary plant closures have been well signposted, and with a plant closed, there is no production. But what is spooking some is the idea that large numbers of the motoring public can so easily defer – perhaps for a long time – that new car purchase. We had recessions before – why didn’t this happen then?
I saw two MGBs yesterday. So what, you might say. Ah well. This is something exceptional – had I seen two Golfs or Fabias, there would have been no point in the mental note. But seeing products of the 60s and 70s still out and about is unusual, even cars like the MGB with its large following of enthusiasts (aficionados?). And the MGB was more solidly put together than many of its contemporaries.
In those times, you couldn’t defer car replacement for long. The thing would ultimately have fallen apart. The engines didn’t last as long as today, maintenance was progressively more expensive, and bodywork rotted, sometimes seriously and often dangerously. Then there was the concept of “this year’s model”.
True, that idea was something that was honed by the real Mad Men and preached to the target audience in the USA more than in the UK, but the cars there also rotted away, and few lasted more than five years. Those few included the VW Beetle, something celebrated briefly by Woody Allen in his film Sleeper. But regular replacement became an entrenched norm.
Meanwhile, car build quality improved. And it improved not only in the Volkswagen plants. Progressively higher safety standards drove stronger vehicles, and more strength meant more metal. More metal then treated to keep its integrity longer meant less rotting. Engine technology also improved to give better fuel economy and lower maintenance costs – and longer life.
So, by the end of the millennium, routine car replacement was still done, but did not need to be done.
Thus a plethora of new models, or niche variants of models, available to give us more choice, appeal to our vanity, and most of all keep us buying. Then came the downturn, with more and more motorists forced to prioritise their outlays.
If you haven’t got the money, and you aren’t going near the idea of borrowing it, then no end of advertising, flash televisual promotion, or peer pressure will move you. The car can manage another year. Or two. Or more.
Thus the fall in demand. And if the punters aren’t buying, why keep producing?
I saw two MGBs yesterday. So what, you might say. Ah well. This is something exceptional – had I seen two Golfs or Fabias, there would have been no point in the mental note. But seeing products of the 60s and 70s still out and about is unusual, even cars like the MGB with its large following of enthusiasts (aficionados?). And the MGB was more solidly put together than many of its contemporaries.
In those times, you couldn’t defer car replacement for long. The thing would ultimately have fallen apart. The engines didn’t last as long as today, maintenance was progressively more expensive, and bodywork rotted, sometimes seriously and often dangerously. Then there was the concept of “this year’s model”.
True, that idea was something that was honed by the real Mad Men and preached to the target audience in the USA more than in the UK, but the cars there also rotted away, and few lasted more than five years. Those few included the VW Beetle, something celebrated briefly by Woody Allen in his film Sleeper. But regular replacement became an entrenched norm.
Meanwhile, car build quality improved. And it improved not only in the Volkswagen plants. Progressively higher safety standards drove stronger vehicles, and more strength meant more metal. More metal then treated to keep its integrity longer meant less rotting. Engine technology also improved to give better fuel economy and lower maintenance costs – and longer life.
So, by the end of the millennium, routine car replacement was still done, but did not need to be done.
Thus a plethora of new models, or niche variants of models, available to give us more choice, appeal to our vanity, and most of all keep us buying. Then came the downturn, with more and more motorists forced to prioritise their outlays.
If you haven’t got the money, and you aren’t going near the idea of borrowing it, then no end of advertising, flash televisual promotion, or peer pressure will move you. The car can manage another year. Or two. Or more.
Thus the fall in demand. And if the punters aren’t buying, why keep producing?
Speak up Nick!
One little discussed element of Crewe and Nantwich concerns the Liberal Democrats, and it needs addressing by “Shagger” Clegg and his team in swift order if they are to have any chance of holding their ground at the next General Election.
Despite the best efforts of Chris Rennard, and the presence of World’s Most Agreeable Politician (tm) Vince Cable, Lib Dem candidate Elizabeth Shenton made little impression on the contest. Swing voters went for Edward Timpson (the man with marginally more charisma than a Burton’s dummy) and the Tories romped home.
With an increasingly red-top style to Tory campaigning (see earlier post “How the Tory approach works”), and Labour turning their efforts to countering it, there is a real risk that the Lib Dems will struggle to make themselves heard. And if they repeat the Kennedy business in any way, they won’t even struggle.
Let’s consider the Lib Dems since the 2005 Election.
At that election, they won 62 seats. More even than the 58 won by David Lloyd George in 1929, after he had been prevailed upon to open his wallet a little wider (actually, the Liberals won 59 seats that year, but the member for Shipley jumped ship straight afterwards). Ten times as good as the dark days when Jo Grimond carried the flame of Liberalism with perhaps five others.
So what did the Lib Dems do to show off their good fortune? They dumped the unfortunate Charles Kennedy, rather than rally round him at a time of personal difficulty. They looked to have caught Big Party Disease (tm), but they weren’t a big party. Signs of delusional behaviour?
How do the electorate respond to a party fighting like ferrets in a sack? They treat them like Siberia – everyone knows where it is, but nobody wants to go there.
When the next General Election comes round, there is the strongest chance since 1929 of a hung parliament – although this comes with a big if: that chance only remains strong if Corporal Clegg can knock some discipline into his motley platoon and at least retain those 62 seats.
And make himself heard.
Despite the best efforts of Chris Rennard, and the presence of World’s Most Agreeable Politician (tm) Vince Cable, Lib Dem candidate Elizabeth Shenton made little impression on the contest. Swing voters went for Edward Timpson (the man with marginally more charisma than a Burton’s dummy) and the Tories romped home.
With an increasingly red-top style to Tory campaigning (see earlier post “How the Tory approach works”), and Labour turning their efforts to countering it, there is a real risk that the Lib Dems will struggle to make themselves heard. And if they repeat the Kennedy business in any way, they won’t even struggle.
Let’s consider the Lib Dems since the 2005 Election.
At that election, they won 62 seats. More even than the 58 won by David Lloyd George in 1929, after he had been prevailed upon to open his wallet a little wider (actually, the Liberals won 59 seats that year, but the member for Shipley jumped ship straight afterwards). Ten times as good as the dark days when Jo Grimond carried the flame of Liberalism with perhaps five others.
So what did the Lib Dems do to show off their good fortune? They dumped the unfortunate Charles Kennedy, rather than rally round him at a time of personal difficulty. They looked to have caught Big Party Disease (tm), but they weren’t a big party. Signs of delusional behaviour?
How do the electorate respond to a party fighting like ferrets in a sack? They treat them like Siberia – everyone knows where it is, but nobody wants to go there.
When the next General Election comes round, there is the strongest chance since 1929 of a hung parliament – although this comes with a big if: that chance only remains strong if Corporal Clegg can knock some discipline into his motley platoon and at least retain those 62 seats.
And make himself heard.
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