by Stephen Tall on March 8, 2016
Warning: spoilers follow
Well, I gave ‘Spin’ (Les Hommes de l’ombre) — the French political drama broadcast by More4 in its Walter Presents strand — a decent chance. An entire series, in fact. But I’ve now officially given up. Here’s why.
One of my pet-hates always used to be TV dramas which mocked-up newspaper front pages in an appallingly amateurish way. It’s bizarre that directors who will take every care with set designs and costumes seem not to care if they splash the screen with a ‘Daily News’-type tabloid with a badly written, badly spaced headline that looks like a Year 6 kid’s ‘write your own newspaper’ English project.
That still happens. But there’s a new irritation that’s been added — dramas deciding to ignore how social media is used because it would spoil their dramatic tension. And that brings me to ‘Spin’. Two incidents stood out in its first series:
* News breaks of French presidential hopeful Anne Visage’s affair with the recently blown-up former President. Her campaign manager is issued with the urgent warning… “this story will hit the news-stands in just a few hours’ time!”. Because, obviously, we’re all ignorant of what the newspapers are saying til we walk past les kiosques in the morning and Twitter stops at the white cliffs of Dover.
* A key witness — the one person who can testify to the motives of the President’s assassin — is being hunted by the French authorities desperate to ensure their state-sanctioned lie of terrorism isn’t challenged. Tensely, he hunkers down for a couple of days until a journalist with a TV camera can arrive and film his evidence. On tape. Seriously. No suggestion is made that he might tell his story using the smart-phone he’s carrying and post it to the Internet. Or even tweet his testimony.
It’s hard to take seriously a drama which ignores the real world. And then, when the first episode of the second series opened with a laughably contrived cover-up involving the new French president which will, inevitably and tediously, unravel over the next five hours, I thought: enough, this simply wouldn’t be taken seriously if it didn’t have subtitles.
The Economist on the success of the Pupil Premium: “A pricey education policy looks like money well spent”
by Stephen Tall on March 3, 2016
I’ve said before that I think the Pupil Premium – £2.5 billion of extra money given to schools to support children and young people from disadvantaged backgrounds — is one of the most progressive government policies of the last decade, an achievement of which the Lib Dems can be well proud.
This week’s Economist takes a look at it and gives the policy the thumbs-up:
How to raise the attainment of children from poor backgrounds is now a focus for educators. Before the premium, 57% of school leaders said they aimed support at their most disadvantaged pupils; 94% now do, says the [National Audit Office]. With such a wide gap in attainment between children from rich and poor families, that is no bad thing.
Which backs up something I suggested in 2014 about the Pupil Premium:
What I suspect it has done is focus schools’ attention on the attainment gap and to address it in ways that go beyond, and do not depend on, the value of the Pupil Premium itself.
Full disclosure: I work for the Education Endowment Foundation, cited by the Economist in its article:
… the government has poured funding into studies looking at how best to spend money, providing the Educational Endowment Foundation (EEF), a charity, with £137m. It collates evidence from abroad and funds studies at home: around one-quarter of English schools are involved in randomised control trials run by the charity.
Schools increasingly turn to the research for guidance: two-thirds now consult the EEF’s advice, up from one-third in 2012, according to a report by the National Audit Office (NAO), which scrutinises government spending. Surveys by the National Foundation for Educational Research, a charity, found that the most common interventions in the first years of the pupil premium were to reduce class sizes and increase numbers of support staff—neither of which are judged to be effective by the EEF. Now schools are more likely to put in place one-to-one tuition and pupil feedback—both of which are highly rated.
by Stephen Tall on March 3, 2016
Bang!: A History of Britain in the 1980s by Graham Stewart
The ’80s are suddenly back, at least for the Labour party which has regressed to them. I was two years old when they began, so I recall a fair amount, but through the inevitably unreliable and partial lens of a child. So I thought it was about time I revised what I had lived through.
Graham Stewart’s Bang!: A History of Britain in the 1980s is, overall*, an excellent guide. He’s as comfortable writing about monetarism as he is about Madness, as informative about the SDP as he is Sloane Rangers.
What’s most startling is how much society has changed, mostly for the better – indeed, reading about the rampant sexism, racism and homophobia which prevailed at the time, re-inforced by the stodgily white, male trade unions, might shock those Corbynistas who appear to think that simply turning back the clock to pre-Thatcher would right all wrongs.
We think of the 1979 election as a turning point, with Mrs Thatcher’s victory a decisive pivot away from the soggy, consensus ‘Butskellism’ politics of the 1950-70s. Yet that wasn’t necessarily how it appeared at the time. In 1955, 74% of those polled by Gallup believed there were important differences between the Conservatives and Labour; in 1979, only 54% did so.
Some things don’t change, though. Labour’s chancellor Denis Healey described finding Tory costings in their 1979 manifesto as “like looking for a black cat in a dark coal cellar” — a simile which will resonate with anyone who’s tried to identify where the Tories’ £12bn welfare cuts in their 2015 manifesto will be found.
As for the idea that the Tories are the party to trust with cracking down on welfare spending, well… try squaring that with the ’80s’ reality: ‘after the effects of inflation are taken into account, the state still spent nearly 13 per cent more at the end of the eighties than it had done at the end of the seventies’.
There are some great lines, exposing the hypocrisies which history has a habit of laying bare, and some fascinating facts, including:
Interesting, too, is Stewart’s take on the SDP’s phosphorescent explosion into British politics. He rightly rejects the old leftist canard that the SDP split from Labour was to blame for Mrs Thatcher’s decade of dominance: ‘it was only the intercession of the SDP that stopped the Conservatives beating Labour by even greater margins in the 1983 and 1987 general elections’.
And he is pretty scathing of its intellectual contribution, invoking Ralf Dahrendorf’s famous quip that the SDP offered “a better yesterday”. After all, the ‘Gang of Four’ renegades were ‘committed not to radical change but to the preservation of the post-war consensus’, with their Limehouse Declaration showing they believed the settlement as per 1979 about right — for example, that a state-regulated incomes policy should be core to the government’s anti-inflationary strategy.
If anything, the SDP was more left-wing than Jeremy Corbyn. It’s a moot point who would be most offended by that realisation.
* I say “overall” because my confidence in Stewart’s account was knocked by his lazy peddling of the myths about the infamous 1983 Bermondsey by-election in which Labour’s Peter Tatchell was defeated by the Liberals’ Simon Hughes. He refers to ‘the smear tactics of local Liberal activists’ without mentioning the really virulent campaign against Tatchell came from homophobic Old Labour-ites. (See this Wikipedia entry for a succinct and mostly accurate summary.) It’s only a half a page, but unfortunately it does make me wonder how many other parts of the book rely on press cuttings.
by Stephen Tall on February 22, 2016
By Lib Dem standards, I’m something of a Eurosceptic. That is, I accept the EU is less than perfect. A lot less than perfect.
I’m not alone. When I polled party members for LibDemVoice a couple of years ago, I was surprised to discover less than half wanted Britain to integrate further. Indeed, an estimated one-in-six Lib Dem voters will choose Leave on 23 June.
In reality, Lib Dem policy is a lot less starry-eyed than some activists. For example, the party has been campaigning for years to bring an end to the European Parliament’s monthly travel between Brussels and Strasbourg, a move – or, more accurately, non-move – that would save £150m a year (and almost 20,000 tonnes of CO2 emissions).
Vince Cable once (rightly) branded the protectionist Common Agricultural Policy “a complete disgrace”. The EU’s decision-making is as opaque as it is sclerotic, as Nick Clegg acknowledged: “When I worked in the European Union I remember it took 15 years to decide the definition of chocolate and a chocolate directive. Anything that takes a decade and a half to define what chocolate is is in need of reform”.
Yet the party is widely perceived, and I understand why, to be slavishly obeisant to the EU. Too often we have mistaken being pro-internationalist, pro-Europeans as requiring us to be overly defensive of the EU establishment. The party’s position has too often been defined by dislike of the Tory right and frothing Europhobe press than by the liberal principles we should apply: open, transparent, accountable government of the people, by the people, for the people.
The Lib Dem approach to David Cameron’s re-negotations have compounded this problem.
For years, the party opposed holding an in/out referendum altogether (unless required by treaty change), latterly simply as a bargaining chip for future coalition negotiations with the Tories. Unlike the Tory PM.
Then Mr Cameron put forward his shopping list of EU reform demands. These were either modest or irrelevant or both but they achieved their aim of showcasing his willingness to fight for national interests.
By contrast, the Lib Dems have stayed schtum. We should have been setting out our own renegotiation ideas – more democratic accountability, greater transparency, anti-tariff, etc – so that we could fight for Remain on the basis we were “in the EU to improve it”.
But because it was reckoned this might undermine Mr Cameron’s renegotiations – and they are reckoned to be the key to referendum victory – that was ruled out. Leaving the Tory PM to claim sole bragging rights and the Lib Dems left looking, again, like slavish adherents to all things Brussels.
I know many of my fellow Lib Dems are looking forward to the campaign. I’m not. I’m reminded of something I wrote two years ago about the Scottish in/out referendum, which has parallels:
If I were a Scot with a vote in September, I’m not sure which side I would favour. I see no reason why an independent Scotland wouldn’t do quite well out of new arrangements, but it would of course be a risky venture into the unknown (which is why I don’t think the SNP’s bid will succeed). As that great liberal Ludovic Kennedy once rhetorically asked, “I still believe that if Denmark can run its own affairs, why can’t Scotland?”
It is, of course, ironic that so many (Tory) unionists who argued Scotland would be dead and buried if it struck out on its own believe that the UK can and will thrive in similar circumstances.
I’m not a unionist. Nor am I a separatist. I’m a federalist (my definition: accountable power distributed locally, nationally and supranationally, operated at the lowest level possible).
I’m sure the UK would do just fine as an independent country… eventually. But, as a certain well-known Tory MP argued a couple of weeks ago – before U-turning at the weekend – I am concerned “that leaving would cause at least some business uncertainty, while embroiling the Government for several years in a fiddly process of negotiating new arrangements, so diverting energy from the real problems of this country – low skills, low social mobility, low investment etc – that have nothing to do with Europe”.
Boris was right then. He’s not right now. And ultimately, that’s the problem with Euroscepticism: the Eurosceptics. Somehow the subject brings out the worst in them, with even sober, intelligent, mild-mannered folk like Times commentator Tim Montgomerie transformed into irrational obsessives: English cybernats, nationalist Corbynistas. As JS Mill so nearly remarked, “I did not mean that Eurosceptics are generally weird; I meant, that weird persons are generally Eurosceptics”.
Considered on its own merits, Brexit isn’t such an appalling conclusion. But then you look at who that means winning. And I know I’m going to be sticking with Remain.
by Stephen Tall on February 16, 2016
I suspect if Peter Tatchell and I ever sat down to talk about the economy we’d be poles apart. He’s a far-lefty, I’m not.
But he happens also to be one of my political heroes, a fearless champion of equality, whose bravery in standing up for the human rights of the oppressed around the world is an inspiration. He was my 50th Liberal Hero in my series for CentreForum for supporting free speech and its positive use.
To the NUS’s Fran Cowling, though, he’s a racist and a transphobe (or at the very least an ally of those who are). Plenty of people have already taken down the absurdity of this gross distortion. But it was a paragraph in Brendan O’Neill’s scathing Spectator article that had me nodding most:
The turn against Tatchell speaks to a worrying trend among today’s young radicals: fury with the very people who fought to make their lives freer and easier. … They have disappeared so far up the fundament of identity politics that they bristle at any argument that smacks of universalism, which emphasises the sameness and the shared capacity for autonomy of all human beings.
It’s that divisive aspect of identity politics – the deliberate segregation of society into homogenised groups and sub-groups – which turns me off.
I fully recognise (who couldn’t?) that there are categories of people who have been discriminated against, and too often still are, on the basis of their gender, race, sexual orientation, religion, caste, age, etc. Much has been done to break down these barriers, to move society forward. Much more still needs to be done. I hope an awareness of how this may have impacted on those from such groups is imprinted on all our minds.
But it is an inherently backward-looking and reductive approach. Yes, we’re shaped by our histories. We don’t have to be defined by them, though. Let me put it this way: whose shoes would you prefer to walk in – those of a child from a poor, disadvantaged background with loving and supportive parents; or of a child from a rich, privileged background whose parents neglected and abused them?
Group identities matter, but they aren’t everything. We are individuals with our own unique life experiences, good and bad, which have made us what we are today. And we are individuals with agency, able to re-make our own futures.
The moment we start looking at a person and see only our perception of their group identity, rather than who they are as an individual, we make a hell of an assumption – and lose a bit of our humanity.
by Stephen Tall on February 4, 2016
Much deserved mockery greeted the Daily Mail’s portentous front page plea for a plucky patriot to take up cudgels on behalf of Brexit:
Today the Mail asks a question of profound significance to our destiny as a sovereign nation and the fate of our children and grandchildren. Who will speak for England?
To which there is only one answer, and it’s an answer as uncomfortable to the right-wing Mail as it is to the right-on Twitter crowd: David Cameron speaks for England. And I say that as someone who views his re-negotiations as, largely, a sham.
Like most of the rest of the voting public I’ve been quite busy with Real Life this week, and so haven’t followed the ins and outs of the Prime Minister’s deal. I’ve heard snippets about “red card vetoes” and “emergency brakes”. My basic impression is that he’s not got an awful lot out of it, but probably got as good as he was going to.
And I suspect that’s how it’ll end up being viewed by most of the British public, too.
(As an immigration-lover I deprecate his efforts to strike a tough pose on an issue like migrant benefits he knows is a near-irrelevance; after all, immigrants pay in to this country far, far in excess of what they take out. But I understand I’m in a small minority of voters who thinks like this, and so I also understand why Mr Cameron did it.)
The closest Gordon Brown ever got to defining his Britishness in a way that wasn’t cringey was in his his first speech as Prime Minister when he quoted, with endearing awkwardness, his school motto, ‘I will try my utmost’. What it lacked in inspiration it made up for in genuineness.
We like our leaders to try their best, be seen to try their best. Their actual achievements are pretty secondary as long they’re basically competent and the economy’s ticking along.
Mr Cameron’s decaffeinated negotiations are, it feels, an insipid, British version of what Greece’s Alexis Tsipras attempted last year: issue an ultimatum to try and bluff your opponents into thinking you might actually dare to torpedo the entire Euro project in the hope they might concede more than they otherwise would. And then sell that deal, no matter how far short it falls, as the best possible.
In fact, Mr Cameron has triangulated himself into the ideal position. As he very smartly remarked after the televised Clegg-Farage Euro debate in March 2014: “Nick thinks there’s nothing wrong with Europe and we shouldn’t have a referendum, and Nigel thinks there’s nothing right with Europe and we should just get out and leave. They’re both wrong.”
Cameron’s the leader who’s gone out and batted for Britain. He might not have scored a century but it was a useful knock. Like it or not, those of us who support ‘Bremain’ are lucky he’s on our team.
The chap did what he could, tried his damnedest. And you can’t get more British – sorry, Daily Mail: English – than that.