Mandy's flirtation with Communism

Jessica Asato observes that the fog has finally lifted, as Labour bounces back with renewed vigour,

For me, the start of Labour Party Conference is always signalled by Progress'
popular annual Sunday night Rally. This year, expectant camera crews and delegates waited to hear Peter Mandelson give his blessing to Gordon Brown's premiership as revealed in the Observer that morning. Nervous laughs greeted Mandelson's concession that he'd indulged in a bit of flirting in his life, though thankfully not with David Cameron as the Observer had suggested.
Tension mounted as he further admitted that his dalliance with the Young Communists was more for "social" rather than "political" reasons. Ooh er.

So we were all much happier when he settled on his central message that Gordon Brown should be congratulated for leading a dignified and stable transition,and that New Labour was alive and well in his hands. He did give a mild warning that there needed to be greater articulation of how the Government intended to tackle difficult issues such as public service reform and crime and security. But apart from that there were smiles all round, and even a bit of advice for Ed Ball's first Progress Rally speech: "Don't go on for too long". Never harmed Mandy though.

After the Rally we cantered to the first receptions of conference, and first up was the Young Fabian's bash, which a couple of years ago used to have Mandelson in the line-up, but who have since become rather more serious and used the occasion to big-up their latest pamphlet on fighting the BNP. Good on them. Then it was back into the whirling rain to get across the other side of the conference centre to the New Statesman reception which did have plenty of champagne but had the downside of being incredibly sweaty. Thinking we'd escape the heat we trudged back to the Highcliff which is this year's conference hotel, only to find it rammed with, by this time of the evening, pretty worse-for-wear delegates. The news earlier in the day of Gordon's crack-down on teen binge-drinking looked rather misdirected.

Everything seems to have happened much more quickly this year because the leader's speech moved to Monday. So quickly in fact that we forgot to find tickets for the main hall, and had to settle to watch it in the 'Hot Rocks Cafe' complete with neon signs and surf boards. It was a slightly surreal viewing experience with the seriousness of Brown's message surrounded by bright plastic garlands on the walls, Hawaiian shirts and messages of Aloha!

In the background you could hear the organ-grinder music of the carousel spinning outside, which got on the nerves after a while. It was not hard, however, to be moved by Gordon Brown's very personal call to the nation to trust his judgement and his claim to be a conviction politician. His cry that 'no injustice can last forever' and the image of a 'golden thread of common humanity' which connects us across national boundaries, let us see Brown in his moral element.

The question on most conference attendee's minds this week was: when is the election going to be called? It's pretty pointless to speculate but still quite interesting to see what people think. Andy Burnham at the Progress fringe on Monday said quite adamantly that he'd prefer an election in 2008, citing the boost of the Comprehensive Spending Review and the 60th Anniversary of the NHS, while Stephen Twigg, Progress Chair and newly selected candidate for Liverpool West Derby, said that we'd be better organised if we left it, but then so would the Tories. We're equally keen for Stephen to be back in Parliament as soon as possible, but we're also rather anxious that the Progress Annual Conference which is already packed with oodles of top speakers is booked for November 3rd...

The main feeling from this conference is one of unity and a shared endeavour to win a fourth term. Compared to last year it's like the fog has lifted and given everyone renewed vigour to take on the Tories. But as Andy Burnham warned in the Progress debate on David Cameron, the Party mustn't fall into the trap of becoming "arrogant, complacent or over-confident" otherwise our enthusiasm will be very short-lived indeed.

Jessica Asato is Deputy Director of Progress and a Member of the Fabian Society Executive.
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A swimming pool and a bleeding toe put my medical competency in doubt

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Sometimes the search engine wins. 

The brutal heatwave affecting southern Europe this summer has become known among locals as “Lucifer”. Having just returned from Italy, I fully understand the nickname. An early excursion caused the beginnings of sunstroke, so we abandoned plans to explore the cultural heritage of the Amalfi region and strayed no further than five metres from the hotel pool for the rest of the week.

The children were delighted, particularly my 12-year-old stepdaughter, Gracie, who proceeded to spend hours at a time playing in the water. Towelling herself after one long session, she noticed something odd.

“What’s happened there?” she asked, holding her foot aloft in front of my face.

I inspected the proffered appendage: on the underside of her big toe was an oblong area of glistening red flesh that looked like a chunk of raw steak.

“Did you injure it?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”

I shrugged and said she must have grazed it. She wasn’t convinced, pointing out that she would remember if she had done that. She has great faith in plasters, though, and once it was dressed she forgot all about it. I dismissed it, too, assuming it was one of those things.

By the end of the next day, the pulp on the underside of all of her toes looked the same. As the doctor in the family, I felt under some pressure to come up with an explanation. I made up something about burns from the hot paving slabs around the pool. Gracie didn’t say as much, but her look suggested a dawning scepticism over my claims to hold a medical degree.

The next day, Gracie and her new-found holiday playmate, Eve, abruptly terminated a marathon piggy-in-the-middle session in the pool with Eve’s dad. “Our feet are bleeding,” they announced, somewhat incredulously. Sure enough, bright-red blood was flowing, apparently painlessly, from the bottoms of their big toes.

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Often, what patients discover on the internet causes them undue alarm, and our role is to provide context and reassurance. But not infrequently, people come across information that outstrips our knowledge. On my return from our room with fresh supplies of plasters, my wife looked up from her sun lounger with an air of quiet amusement.

“It’s called ‘pool toe’,” she said, handing me her iPhone. The page she had tracked down described the girls’ situation exactly: friction burns, most commonly seen in children, caused by repetitive hopping about on the abrasive floors of swimming pools. Doctors practising in hot countries must see it all the time. I doubt it presents often to British GPs.

I remained puzzled about the lack of pain. The injuries looked bad, but neither Gracie nor Eve was particularly bothered. Here the internet drew a blank, but I suspect it has to do with the “pruning” of our skin that we’re all familiar with after a soak in the bath. This only occurs over the pulps of our fingers and toes. It was once thought to be caused by water diffusing into skin cells, making them swell, but the truth is far more fascinating.

The wrinkling is an active process, triggered by immersion, in which the blood supply to the pulp regions is switched off, causing the skin there to shrink and pucker. This creates the biological equivalent of tyre treads on our fingers and toes and markedly improves our grip – of great evolutionary advantage when grasping slippery fish in a river, or if trying to maintain balance on slick wet rocks.

The flip side of this is much greater friction, leading to abrasion of the skin through repeated micro-trauma. And the lack of blood flow causes nerves to shut down, depriving us of the pain that would otherwise alert us to the ongoing tissue damage. An adaptation that helped our ancestors hunt in rivers proves considerably less use on a modern summer holiday.

I may not have seen much of the local heritage, but the trip to Italy taught me something new all the same. 

This article first appeared in the 17 August 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump goes nuclear