Monthly Archives: July 2009

The one and only Bob Ainsworth

Bob AinsworthThe remarkably Eeyorish Bob Ainsworth, who is still Secretary of State for Defence, has today given a suitably defensive interview to the Telegraph.

After admitting that Labour did not do enough to support troops on the front line in the first years of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan – which I am sure will go down really well in Downing Street – Mr Ainsworth answers the accusation that he is not up to the job of running the Ministry of Defence:

A civilian with no direct experience of military service, he said he could bring a “unique dimension” to the job of Defence Secretary.

“I don’t try to second guess decisions that are quite properly taken in the military chain of command. I don’t try to pretend I am cleverer than a general or the Chief of the Defence Staff,” he said. “But I can bring something else, a knowledge and understanding of Parliament, and of civilian life.”

With enormous respect to Mr Ainsworth, “knowledge of civilian life” would not appear to be one of the more compelling qualifications for being put in charge of the nation’s defences.

Furthermore, given that it is a quality shared with the entirety of the rest of the British population, it would, in terms of uniqueness, appear to be somewhat toward the lower end of the scale.

Broken teeth – faded smile

The continuing impact of the recession, and the fact that there is unlikely to be a fast route to recovery, is illustrated in a report published yesterday by the Local Data Company, a leading supplier of retail sector data.

The report, entitled Broken teeth – faded smile, reveals that around 12,000 independent shops and 7,000 branches of major chains have closed so far this year.  The average retail vacancy rate across Britain has increased from 4 per cent twelve months ago to almost 12 per cent today.

Of the 800 Woolworths branches that closed last winter, only about 200 have been sold, leaving large gaps in the prime retail pitches of town centres throughout the country.  Of those that have been sold, many have been acquired by “pound shop” retailers, generally driving down the overall quality of the retail sector.

The report summarises the significance of its findings succinctly:

Economically, there are few sadder sites than an empty shop. Just as thriving town centres demonstrate vitality, empty shops lay bare weakness and failure…  Empty shops have a corrosive effect upon the confidence of any area – and their numbers are growing.

Empty shops are the most visible indicator of the fragility of the economy.  The report observes that, although there are also some optimistic indicators, longer-term prospects are far from certain:

A heat wave and a new round of sales brought shoppers out in June. An increase in retail sales volume of 2.9% over June 2008, the largest annual gain since December, was way above expectations and could set the scene for a stronger than expected second half of the year. However this has to be balanced against continued rises in unemployment and therefore less spending power overall.

Pressure on the High Street will  continue as a consequence of  the growing popularity of online shopping, which, despite the downturn,  is growing at an annual rate of over 12 per cent.   

One must, therefore, wonder whether there will ever be a complete recovery for the traditional retail sector in this country, in which case one of the challenges for government may be to reassess the uses to which we put our town centres. 

Blair on the rack

tony blairThe Chilcot inquiry into the Iraq war may yet blow up in the face of Gordon Brown, with collateral damage to his predecessor.

It has been revealed today that the inquiry will take evidence on live television from “all key decision-makers in the different phases of the Iraq affair”.

This may prove a significant embarrassment not only to Mr Brown himself, but also to Tony Blair, just at the time when he is likely to be making his ever-so-discreet pitch for the European presidency (if, of course, Lisbon is ratified by the Irish).

William Hague has today expressed wholly justifiable concerns that “wriggle room” may be afforded to Mr Blair by virtue of Sir John Chilcot’s indication that evidence sessions may be held in private, not just when national security is at issue, but also when there is a “need for candour”.

One must hope that Sir John takes the robust view that simply sparing Blair’s blushes does not fall into either of those categories.

Why Cameron did not make a twat of himself

David Cameron’s use of the word “twat” in an interview yesterday on Absolute Radio has provoked considerable outrage, most of it ersatz, in this morning’s press.   Why, it has even incurred the opprobrium of no less a figure than the magisterial Stephen Pound.

A number of points need to be made about what is, in reality, just another silly season story:

  1. Most people, unless they are astonishingly virtuous, tend to swear from time to time.  They usually do so in times of stress.  Since politics is a particularly stressful occupation, it tends also to be a fairly sweary one;
  2. Nevertheless, there is swearing and swearing.  What is taboo to one generation can become acceptable to the next.  When I was a boy, for example, the words “bloody”, “bastard” and “bugger” were unrepeatable; now it can be a term of endearment to call someone a “bloody old bastard”, particularly if you happen to be Australian;
  3. The word “twat” has evolved over recent years and has lost most of its anatomical connotations.  Nowadays, it tends to be considered a slightly stronger form of “twit”, which is still in use, or the wartime RAF “twerp”, which is not.   Cameron was consciously alluding to this when he said that “too many twits might make a twat” (which is, in any case, rather funny);
  4. That the word has become reasonably acceptable is evidenced by the fact that almost all this morning’s papers quote Cameron verbatim, which would not have been the case had he used the f- or c- words (which, of course, he never would);
  5. The partial exception to 4 above is an article by Richard Dixon, chief revise editor of the Times, who quotes the word in full only once, but otherwise uses asterisks or refers to it as the t-word; it is, says Mr Dixon, classified by the Thunderer as “taboo/vulgar slang”;
  6. It may be, however, that one day even the Times will feel it appropriate to relent and allow the unexpurgated t-word to be used in extenso in its hallowed columns.  Don’t hold your breath, though.  It was only last December that it decided to cease referring to the capital of the state of Maharashtra as “Bombay” and to start calling it “Mumbai” – at least a decade after most other national newspapers.

Ainsworth should throw in the towel

Bob AinsworthBob Ainsworth, who is presently the Defence Secretary, has cut short his annual holiday to announce that he is bringing forward a review of the Armed Forces Compensation Scheme – a development, I’m sure, wholly unconnected with yesterday’s Sun front page, highlighted  by Tim Montgomerie.

After attempting, remarkably squalidly, to salvage a scrap of political advantage from the débâcle by making the astonishingly tasteless observation that “the world-class medical care that we provide on operations means that more people are surviving very serious injuries than before” (somebody please sack that press officer), Mr Ainsworth promises that the new arrangements will benefit troops with claims under the existing scheme:

“The underlining principle of the scheme, that those most seriously injured should receive the most compensation, is an important one that we will maintain.

“I can offer an assurance, however, that new arrangements will benefit those with claims under the existing scheme, including those mentioned in the current court case.”

If that is indeed the case, perhaps he could instruct counsel to inform the Court that he is abandoning his appeals against the tribunal awards in favour of Corporal Anthony Duncan and Royal Marine Matthew McWilliams, so that those two brave men may be spared further, unnecessary distress.

Beyond Heffer’s understanding

I have become so used to the monotonous virulence of Simon Heffer’s attacks on the Conservative party in general and its leader in particular that I have now arrived at the point where I shrug my shoulders and mutter to myself: “There goes Heffer again.”   

Mr Heffer has developed such a hatred for the party that one has the impression that even if it were to conduct a coup against the leader, install Heffer in his place and then give Heffer carte blanche to pursue, unfettered, his own agenda, it would still not be good enough for him.

Heffer’s bilious outpourings have now become such everyday events that most Tory MPs deal with them much in the way that a dentist deals with the noise of his drill: as an irritating, but  unavoidable, concomitant of the job.

In today’s Telegraph, however, Heffer has overstepped the mark by a considerable margin.  Referring to the party’s refusal to pledge itself to scrapping the new 50p tax band (which would be a considerable folly at this stage, given that we will not know until after the election precisely how bad is the state of the nation’s finances), he writes:

One of [the party’s] spin doctors said last Friday that the retention of the 50p band would serve to remind people how bad Labour had been at managing the economy. I am surprised, on that basis, that we did not keep Belsen open for a few years after the last war, just in case people ever forgot how evil Hitler was.

I don’t think I need to explain to most sensible people why a prudent, or even an imprudent, refusal to rule out reversing a tax increase ought not reasonably to be compared to the greatest crime against humanity of the twentieth century.

I won’t begin trying to explain it to Mr Heffer.

Letting us down gently

Rain in London

The Met Office has revised its forecast for 2009, amid criticism that its prediction earlier in the year of a “barbecue summer” was more than a tad off beam.  Now we are told that we can expect the current unsettled weather to continue well into August.

Given that weather is such a rich and abundant British natural resource – we have considerably more of it than other, less fortunate nations, who have to make do with a climate – it is hardly surprising that we spend so much time talking about it.  What is surprising is that the Met Office, after more than 150 years’ experience, should continue to lead with its chin by making such dogmatic predictions, when, in all probability, they are likely to be proved wrong.

Now the Office is seeking to explain away its over-bullish prognostication by pointing out that the estimate of a “scorching summer” was only 65 per cent; there was consequently a 35 per cent chance of its being not quite so tropical.  It says that it coined the phrase “barbecue summer” only to help journalists’ headlines.

But perhaps the Met Office knew exactly what it was doing.  No one, after all, likes a Jeremiah; if it had told us back in April what we already knew – that we would have a cool, unsettled summer, with quite a lot of rain at weekends, and sunshine only on days when work commitments require us to be indoors – we would have been dreadfully upset.  Far better to let us down gently, even if that prompts a bit of grumbling later on.

Jerome K Jerome summarised the risks inherent in predicting the British weather in Three Men in a Boat:

But who wants to be foretold the weather? It is bad enough when it comes, without our having the misery of knowing about it beforehand. The prophet we like is the old man who, on the particularly gloomy-looking morning of some day when we particularly want it to be fine, looks round the horizon with a particularly knowing eye, and says:

“Oh no, sir, I think it will clear up all right. It will break all right enough, sir.”

“Ah, he knows”, we say, as we wish him good-morning, and start off; “wonderful how these old fellows can tell!”

And we feel an affection for that man which is not at all lessened by the circumstances of its not clearing up, but continuing to rain steadily all day.

“Ah, well,” we feel, “he did his best.”

For the man that prophesies us bad weather, on the contrary, we entertain only bitter and revengeful thoughts.

“Going to clear up, d’ye think?” we shout, cheerily, as we pass.

“Well, no, sir; I’m afraid it’s settled down for the day,” he replies, shaking his head.

“Stupid old fool!” we mutter, “what’s he know about it?” And, if his portent proves correct, we come back feeling still more angry against him, and with a vague notion that, somehow or other, he has had something to do with it.

Jerome published Three Men in a Boat in 1889; little, it seems, has changed since.

Urban myths

Political stories are relatively thin on the ground at the moment, principally for the very good reason that most MPs are away on holiday, or are at least taking a longed-for breather after what was a particularly gruelling term.

Cue the usual crop of silly season offerings, including this one about a Swedish couple who thought they had set their car’s satnav system to take them to Capri, but instead ended up in the northern Italian industrial town of Carpi.  I feel for them, having had some difficulties of my own with satnavs.

The Scottish panther story, an old favourite, has also made a remarkably early appearance this year.

Before the summer is over, we will also have the great white shark off the coast of Cornwall story, the escaped alligator in Leeds story and the cat that hitches a ride from Inverness to Croydon story.

And, of course, in the United States we will have the Barack Obama isn’t really an American story. 

Hang on a second; I hear that one’s running early.

A review is needed, not an appeal

Given that the Ministry of Defence is represented by very eminent leading counsel, I’m sure that there are cogent legal grounds for the appeal it has commenced against tribunal awards made to two injured soldiers under the Armed Forces Compensation Scheme.

Ethically, however, the decision is questionable and politically it is inexplicable.  The public, appalled at the increasing numbers killed and wounded in Afghanistan, will understandably be incensed that the MoD has decided to cause yet more distress to the servicemen.

The compensation scheme is flawed and does not do justice to our armed forces.  It is long overdue for review. 

The new Defence Secretary, Bob Ainsworth, would have been wise to accept the tribunals’ decisions, forgo the appeals and start the review process without further delay.

The death of Sir Humphrey

twitter_logoHaving decided, despite previous misgivings, to give Twitter a go, I must say that I really am finding it a tremendously useful tool for political communication.

I’m not the only one to do so, either.  HM Government has, it appears, now embraced Twitter in a big way, so much so that the Cabinet Office has just issued a Template Twitter strategy for Government Departments.

The strategy is a full 20 pages long and includes among its principles:

Timely: in keeping with the ‘zeitgeist’ feel of Twitter, our tweets will be about issues of relevance today or events/opportunities coming soon.  For example it will not be appropriate to cycle campaign messages without a current ‘hook’.

That admonition would seem to have been infringed by a tweet I received only yesterday from DowningStreet (which I have decided to follow, on the “know your enemy” principle) which referred me to a letter to the public from the Prime Minister on the Number 10 website

This  turned out to be a pure propaganda piece entitled I’m fighting hard for you – PM, the only apparent “hook” being that it was written by Gordon “before taking his summer break”.  Presumably, he will write a similar one when he gets back at the weekend, exhausted after all that enforced relaxation.

The strategy has been published by one Neil Williams, head of corporate digital channels at (surprise, surprise) Peter Mandelson’s Department for Business, Innovation and Skills.  Mr Williams introduces the document in a post on the Cabinet Office blog, in which he concedes that:

You might think a 20-page strategy a bit over the top for a tool like Twitter.

Well, yes, now you mention it, I think I do, actually.

But Mr Williams is clearly an enthusiast.  If one is to tweet, one must tweet properly:

Having held back my JFDI inclinations long enough to sit down and write a proper plan for BIS’s corporate Twitter account, I was surprised by just how much there is to say – and quite how worth saying it is, especially now the platform is more mature and less forgiving of mistakes.

JFDI?    Yes, I was stumped by that one, too.  So I Googled it and was told by the Urban Dictionary that it stands for: “Just F***ing Do It!”

I confess I was a bit surprised, not to say shocked, to learn that that is the way they communicate these days in the upper-middle ranks of the civil service; they’ve clearly moved on a bit since the age of Sir Humphrey. 

Mr Williams, in his spare time, also authors a blog called Mission Creep.  A brief visit to it confirmed the demise of the era of “your obedient servant”.  The blog’s most recent post, for example, is entitled: Seriously dude, WTF is social media? The NSFW presentation one year on

I suggest you visit the Urban Dictionary to learn what WTF stands for, although the worldly-wise among you may know, or have guessed, already.  I blush to admit that I did.

But NSFW?  After much fevered speculation, I was relieved to discover that it stands for Not Safe for Work.

It could have been a lot worse.

Mrs Beamish would approve

Further to my post about the impact of swine flu on worship in Colwyn Bay, a correspondent has suggested to me that Richard Stilgoe’s Mrs Beamish wouldn’t be entirely displeased at the loss of physical contact when giving the sign of peace:

Don’t you dare shake hands with me, or offer signs of peace;
You lay a finger on me and I’ll call for the police.
Don’t whisper ‘Peace be with you’; this is the C of E,
So bend the knee, say thou and thee,
And keep your hands off me.

Try not to do it in public

I am relieved to hear that President Sarkozy has been pronounced none the worse after collapsing yesterday whilst jogging through the park of the Palace of Versailles.

The incident, however, does tend to highlight how careful men of a certain age – particularly politicians – should be about engaging publicly in vigorous sport.  A carefully cultivated reputation for physical prowess can be destroyed in an instant.

In 1979, US President Jimmy Carter collapsed whilst running in a road race in Catoctin Mountain Park, Maryland.  He had to be supported by secret service officers and the TV pictures looked dreadful.

Carter lost the presidential election to Ronald Reagan the following year, although the Iran hostage crisis may have had a little to do with it.

For my own part, I used to jog regularly until I learned that Jim Fixx, the man reputed to have “invented” jogging and its most enthusiastic proponent, had died suddenly at the early age of 52 – shortly after jogging.

Basic intinct

Swine flu has finally made its presence felt in Colwyn Bay.

At morning service yesterday, we were told that our parish priest had decided to follow the guidance given by the Archbishops of Canterbury and York, and to abandon the sharing of the chalice at Holy Communion until the pandemic was over.  Instead, the Host would be “intincted” in the chalice by the presiding priest, “whose hands have been washed with alcohol-based rub”, before Communion was administered. 

This, when announced, appeared to be accepted by the congregation, most of whom nodded gravely.  Glummer faces, however, were produced when the curate told us that the sign of peace had to go, too.  The curate tentatively suggested that we might, instead, press our hands together and bow our heads when acknowledging our neighbours. 

I and most of my fellow communicants clearly decided that this seemed a rather exotic, un-Anglican greeting and opted, instead, to give a little, self-conscious wave.  This had the unexpected benefit of enabling us to exchange the sign of peace with people on the other side of the very large church, who were normally out of range.

The coffee and chat after the service were accompanied by the sight of members of the congregation rushing forward to greet one another, extending their hands, hastily withdrawing them, and substituting a lot of embarrassed head-nodding.  Some of us forgot and shook hands anyway, immediately apologising for doing so. 

Nobody knows how long the country will be afflicted by the H1N1 virus, but some say the outbreak could last for years.  I’m far from sure that the good people of St Paul’s will be able to keep this up.

Tribute to a lost generation

Following the death of Harry Patch, No 10 has announced that a national service, to be attended by HM the Queen, will be held at Westminster Abbey to commemorate the sacrifice of those who fought in World War I.

This is entirely the right decision and I applaud the Prime Minister for it.

Mr Patch’s funeral will take place at Wells cathedral; Henry Allingham’s funeral, with military honours, will be held at Brighton next Thursday.

LabourList: despair, confusion and paranoia

I hadn’t visited LabourList since shortly after the Damian McBride affair and Derek Draper’s resignation as editor.  Suffering last night from a touch of insomnia, I thought I’d check it out to see how it was faring under the new direction of Alex Smith.

First impressions, frankly, weren’t good.  The site still has the intensely boring red-type-on-white-background layout inherited from Draper.  It looks dreary and unappealing, and if there is one thing that Smith should do, and urgently, it is to give it a makeover.  He could do worse than take a gander at ConservativeHome to see how it should be done.

Subsequent impressions were no better, either.  If LabourList (“Where Labour Minded People Come Together”) is anything to go by, the Labour state of mind at present is one of despair, confusion and paranoia.

First, the despair.  That is made pretty clear by an article written by Alex Smith himself in the wake of Norwich North.  The tone is that of Dad’s Army’s Private Frazer:

The magnitude of this defeat shows that this was more than just a protest vote and it was more than simply a reaction to the expenses crises – that excuse did not wash after June 4 and it will not wash this time.

Indeed, this was more than a response to the apparently unjust deselection of Ian Gibson. He, too, would have lost.

No, a swing of this proportion – not unlike the one to Labour in the Wirral in 1997 – is a sign of embedded culture change. It shows that the country is ready and willing – if not craving – to vote for a Tory government in substantial numbers.

Aye, we’re all doomed. Frankly, if it really is as bad as that, there’s not much point in Mr Smith carrying on.

 But what can be done to turn things round?

There must be, Smith declares, a “full recalibration of our party’s policies and our party’s message” and a “more coherent and cohesive narrative” if Labour is to avoid a “huge and self-inflicted defeat”.   In other words, he hasn’t a clue.

This provokes a variety of comments, possibly the bluntest (and most entertainingly perceptive) coming from Ricardo’s Ghost:

Brown’s paralysis (it’s beyond dithering) and cack-handed approach to policy (witness the humiliation of his reform package for MPs being ripped to shreds on the floor of the Commons) is having a debilitating effect on Labour. Nobody knows what Labour is about any more, what it wants to do for the country, what a vote for Labour gets you – and when I say nobody that includes the Ministers in the government. The great clunking fist is stumbling around and swinging wildly in the air.

Next, the confusion.  This is provided by a blogger called “Societarian”, who is, in fact, a blogging collective comprised of “university graduates from non-selective state schools”, hence ethically impeccable, environmentally-friendly and probably  gluten-free.

“Societarian” asserts that what Labour needs at this trying time in the party’s history is nothing less than a “new Clause IV”. 

Clause IV of the Labour Party’s constitution, readers will recall, committed the party:

To secure for the workers by hand or by brain the full fruits of their industry and the most equitable distribution thereof that may be possible upon the basis of the common ownership of the means of production, distribution and exchange, and the best obtainable system of popular administration and control of each industry or service.

Tony Blair, after assuming Labour’s leadership, correctly identified the clause, which had been drafted by Sidney Webb in 1917, as incongruous in the modern, post-soviet era and a major obstacle to progress for the party.  After considerable travails, horsetrades and negotiations, it was scrapped in 1995.  Blair never looked back.

However, “Societarian” seems to think that that was, on reflection, a bit of a mistake:

In the past, one of the cornerstone (sic) which separated the Labour party from the others was the ideology wrapped up in Clause IV that set out the party‘s values and the methods by which we would achieve those values. Back then the goal of Labour was to secure the “full fruits” of what society produced as a whole for everyone within our society. And the means of obtaining that goal (or fruit) was the redistribution of the wealth produced by that society.

I have to say that, given the current state of disarray of the Labour party, the last thing it needs at the moment is a debate about what it stands for.  The response of the average voter would very likely be: “If you don’t know that after twelve years in government, why should you expect us to take you seriously and vote for you?”

And finally, the paranoia.  And I use the word advisedly.

This is provided in an extraordinary article by a Mr Dan McCurry, entitled Cameron’s Watergate (yes, really), which commences:

I’m never short of admiration for David Cameron as a campaigner. He has no policies, but he is a brilliant man for the way he has pulled his party around and made them so electable. But it just seems strange the way this rash of thefts and bugging has been happening since he’s been around.

No, honestly, I’m not pulling your legs.  Do take a look at the entire, barmy piece and wonder at the sort of personality that could compose such conspiracy-theorising claptrap.  And the judgment of an editor who could allow it to be published.

LabourList is an online distillation of the malaise that afflicts the wider Labour party at present.  It is tired, bad-tempered and a bit weird.  Whoever is funding it (itself an interesting question) should take a hard look at it and consider whether, under its present direction, it really is a suitable vehicle to help improve the party’s prospects of recovery.