The fags and booze crackdown that wasn't: or why we need a register of lobbyists

Why can’t we see how much is being spent by private healthcare companies to push for NHS reform, why can’t we see which companies thought the Work Programme was a good idea?

Senior Tories are determined to axe the “Lib Dem hobbyhorse” of a statutory register of lobbyists . . . one Tory source said the proposal was effectively dead as ministers focused on “big issues” instead of devoting resources to an idea cherished only by the Liberal Democrats.

“We need to tackle the issues that the country cares about such as immigration, benefits and the economy,” he said. “It is ironic that Nick Clegg is gunning for the lobbying industry when he was a lobbyist once upon a time.”
 
Now, about this “next big scandal waiting to happen”. Bluntly, one has to wonder at what point our Prime Minister will deem said scandal to have happened. The Queen’s Speech of 2013 was most notable not for what was in it, but for what wasn’t. 
 
For a start, lobbying reform wasn't there. But that wasn't the thing which caused a stink: that was the issue of plain cigarette packaging. It seems a pretty obvious policy to adopt. Rightly, the government is keen to make smoking a frowned-upon, niche activity on a par with watching hentai porn or Morris dancing, and having upped taxes and hidden the packets in supermarkets, this seemed the next logical step. I’m certainly OK with it, and I speak as an enthusiastic social smoker. (I only smoke when I'm out drinking. And quite often when I'm not. Anyway.)
 
Maybe you don't like the idea, but that's not the point. The point is that it was suddenly binned. Why? Because Ukip had been selling itself as the pro-smoking, or if you prefer, pro-lung cancer party? Or was it more to do with lobbying from the tobacco industry? Department of Health minutes show that lobbyists had met government officials in January and February and told them that the industry would have to source its packaging from abroad, resulting in job losses. Other arguments included the contention that it would boost the trade in illicit cigarettes - although commercial sensitivity laws mean we can’t actually see the workings behind this.

Fine. The tobacco lobbyists have as much of a right to put forward their view as anyone else. (For more on this, Thank You For Smoking is a brilliant film, by the way). But then the links between the Prime Minister’s aide, Lynton Crosby, and tobacco firms were exposed - and challenged by a Tory MP, no less. The PM’s spokesman said Crosby had no impact on the decision, but don’t the quotes in that FT story sound rather like his lines in this Mirror piece about “getting the barnacles off the boat”? This, incidentally, is the old lie that we should forget about this - and lobbying reform itself, and gay marriage for that matter - because the Government’s like me trying to walk and send a message on its phone: it can't try to do too many things at once or it'll end up inadvertently sending its mother a sex text before walking into a lamppost.

And of course, it wasn’t just tobacco packaging that was conspicuous by its absence. The Government seemed all excited about a minimum unit price for alcohol a while back - look, it even made a commitment on it - but that’s died a death too. So which argument won the day? Of course there’s a debate to be had about punishing responsible drinkers, but how much weight did threats from the alcohol industry to pull out of the government’s Public Health Responsibility Deal carry? Should we take Jeremy Hunt’s word that it’s been delayed solely due to a legal dispute in Scotland?

Here’s the uncomfortable truth about lobbyists. We need them. Many MPs will freely admit that they couldn’t do their jobs without the information they provide. They highlight the concerns of charities, businesses and individuals who otherwise wouldn’t be heard. But the problem is that without a statutory register, a compulsory code of conduct, and an obligation on all politicians and civil servants to declare their meetings, the industry simply comes across as sordid. Countless Government decisions appear suspicious, when they may very well not be.

Let’s stick with the tobacco industry. Last year we learned that JapanTobacco International has wined and dined 21 MPs, of whom 19 were Conservative. Crispin Blunt had gone to see England play India (£694), and Philip Hammond and his wife had been taken to Chelsea Flower Show (£1,132.80). This raises a serious question, quite apart from who in God’s name would pay over a grand to look at some plants. Given the vast sums of money being splurged on influencing the views of our elected leaders, why aren’t we kicking up a bigger stink about transparency? Why can’t we see how much is being spent by private healthcare companies to push for NHS reform, why can’t we see which companies thought the Work Programme was a good idea?

The Alliance for Lobbying Transparency has made a couple of very good points on this. First, this isn’t a left/right wing issue. Look at how lobbyists in favour of HS2 have worked to “shit up” opponents of the scheme - many of them Conservative. And secondly, the Government’s plans, as they currently stand, are inadequate.

We have to tackle this issue, for the good of our democracy. Lynton Crosby would presumably tell you all this is a distraction from the big issues. But then Lynton Crosby would say that, wouldn’t he? One can only hope that’s a response echoed by our ministers. And we shouldn't just have to hope.

 

A smoker. Photo: Getty

Alan White's work has appeared in the Observer, Times, Private Eye, The National and the TLS. As John Heale, he is the author of One Blood: Inside Britain's Gang Culture.

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What kind of Christian is Theresa May?

And why aren’t we questioning the vicar’s daughter on how her faith influences her politics?

“It is part of me. It is part of who I am and therefore how I approach things,” Theresa May told Kirsty Young when asked about her faith on BBC Radio 4’s Desert Island Discs in November 2014. “I think it’s right that we don’t sort of flaunt these things here in British politics but it is a part of me, it’s there, and it obviously helps to frame my thinking.”

The daughter of a Church of England vicar, Rev. Hubert Brasier, May grew up an active Christian in Oxfordshire. She was so involved in parish life that she even taught some Sunday school classes. She goes on in the Desert Island Discs interview to choose the hymn When I Survey the Wondrous Cross sung by a chapel congregation, and recalls being alone in church with her parents, kneeling and singing together.

Despite her intense attachment to local CofE life, Theresa May’s role as a Christian in politics is defined more by her unwillingness to “flaunt” (in her words) her faith.

Perhaps this is partly why, as a Christian, May avoided the scrutiny directed at Lib Dem leader and evangelical Christian Tim Farron over the past week of his stance on homosexuality and abortion.

As Farron wriggled – first saying he didn’t want to make “theological pronouncements” on whether or not being gay is a sin (and then, days later, announcing that it isn’t) – May’s critics scratched their heads about why her voting record on such matters isn’t in the media spotlight.

She has a socially conservative voting record when it comes to such subjects. As the journalist and activist Owen Jones points out, she has voted against equalising the age of consent, repealing Section 28, and gay adoption (twice).

Although her more recent record on gay rights is slightly better than Farron’s – she voted in favour of same-sex marriage throughout the process, and while Farron voted against the Equality Act Sexual Orientation Regulations in 2007 (the legislation obliging bed and breakfast owners and wedding cake makers, etc, not to discriminate against gay people), May simply didn’t attend.

May has also voted for the ban on sex-selective abortions, for reducing the abortion limit to 20 weeks, abstained on three-parent babies, and against legalising assisted suicide.

“Looking at how she’s voted, it’s a slightly socially conservative position,” says Nick Spencer, Research Director of the religion and society think tank Theos. “That matches with her generally slightly more economically conservative, or non-liberal, position. But she’s not taking those views off pages of scripture or a theology textbook. What her Christianity does is orient her just slightly away from economic and social liberalism.”

Spencer has analysed how May’s faith affects her politics in his book called The Mighty and the Almighty: How Political Leaders Do God, published over Easter this year. He found that her brand of Christianity underpinned “the sense of mutual rights and responsibilities, and exercising those responsibilities through practical service”.

May’s father was an Anglo-Catholic, and Spencer points out that this tradition has roots in the Christian socialist tradition in the early 20th century. A world away from the late Victorian Methodism that fellow Christian Margaret Thatcher was raised with. “That brought with it a package of independence, hard work, probity, and economic prudence. They’re the values you’d get from a good old Gladstonian Liberal. Very different from May.”

Spencer believes May’s faith focuses her on a spirit of citizenship and communitarian values – in contrast to Thatcher proselytising the virtues of individualism during her premiership.

Cradle Christian

A big difference between May and Farron’s Christianity is that May is neither a convert nor an evangelical.

“She’s a cradle Christian, it’s deep in her bloodstream,” notes Spencer. “That means you’re very unlikely to find a command-and-control type role there, it’s not as if her faith’s going to point her in a single direction. She’s not a particularly ideological politician – it’s given her a groundwork and foundation on which her politics is built.”

This approach appears to be far more acceptable in the eyes of the public than Farron’s self-described “theological pronouncements”.  May is known to be a very private politician who keeps her personal life, including her ideas about faith, out of the headlines.

“I don’t think she has to show off, or join in, she just does it; she goes to church,” as her former cabinet colleague Cheryl Gillan put it simply to May’s biographer Rosa Prince.

The voters’ view

It’s this kind of Christianity – quiet but present, part of the fabric without imposing itself – that chimes most with British voters.

“In this country, given our history and the nature of the established Church, it's something that people recognise and understand even if they don't do it themselves,” says Katie Harrison, Director of the Faith Research Centre at polling company ComRes. “Whether or not it’s as active as it used to be, lots of people see it as a nice thing to have, and they understand a politician who talks warmly about those things. That’s probably a widely-held view.”

Although church and Sunday school attendance is falling (about 13 per cent say they regularly attend Christian religious services, aside from weddings and funerals), most current surveys of the British population find that about half still identify as Christian. And ComRes polling in January 2017 found that 52 per cent of people think it’s important that UK politicians and policy-makers have a good understanding of religion in the UK.

Perhaps this is why May, when asked by The Sunday Times last year how she makes tough decisions, felt able to mention her Christianity:  “There is something in terms of faith, I am a practising member of the Church of England and so forth, that lies behind what I do.”

“I don’t think we’re likely to react hysterically or with paranoid fear if our politicians start talking about their faith,” reflects Spencer. “What we don’t like is if they start ‘preaching’ about it.”

“Don’t do God”

So if May can speak about her personal faith, why was the nation so squeamish when Tony Blair did the same thing? Notoriously, the former Labour leader spoke so frankly about his religion when Prime Minister that his spin doctor Alastair Campbell warned: “We don’t do God.” Some of Blair’s critics accuse him of being driven to the Iraq war by his faith.

Although Blair’s faith is treated as the “watershed” of British society no longer finding public displays of religion acceptable, Spencer believes Blair’s problem was an unusual one. Like Farron, he was a convert. He famously converted to Catholicism as an adult (and by doing so after his resignation, side-stepped the question of a Catholic Prime Minister). Farron was baptised at 21. The British public is more comfortable with a leader who is culturally Christian than one who came to religion in their adulthood, who are subjected to more scrutiny.

That’s why Gordon Brown, David Cameron and Theresa May can get away with talking about their faith, according to Spencer. “Brown, a much more cultural Presbyterian, used a lot of Biblical language. Cameron talked about it all the time – but he was able to do so because he had a vague, cultural, undogmatic Anglicanism,” he tells me. “And May holds it at arm’s length and talks about being a clergyman’s daughter, in the same way Brown talked about his father’s moral compass.”

This doesn’t stop May’s hard Brexit and non-liberal domestic policy jarring with her Christian values, however. According to Harrison’s polling, Christian voters’ priorities lie in social justice, and tackling poverty at home and overseas – in contrast with the general population’s preoccupations.

Polling from 2015 (pre-Brexit, granted) found that practising Christians stated more concern about social justice (27 per cent) than immigration (14 per cent). When entering No 10, May put herself “squarely at the service of ordinary working-class people”. Perhaps it’s time for her to practise what she preaches.

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.

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