Conference 2010 Lookahead | Tuesday 21 September

The who, when and where of the Lib Dem conference.

Look out for

Simon Hughes, deputy leader of the Liberal Democrats, will be speaking at 12:20. His appearance will be of particular interest to the media, owing to his status as the Lib Dems' most outspoken internal critic.

However, as Olly Grender pointed out in an update from the conference yesterday evening, the signs so far are that the "Simon-watchers" are going to be disappointed. In his fringe appearances, Hughes has refrained from overt criticism of the coalition, secure in the knowledge that one iota of perceived dissent could dominate headlines for days.

Nevertheless, Hughes' speech today will be worth watching, if only to see how he treads the line between offering support to his now-ministerial colleagues and while still addressing the misgivings of his audience.

Signs of trouble?

A policy motion this morning entitled "Ensuring Fairness in a Time of Austerity" should prompt some lively debate. James Graham, founder of the Social Liberal Forum, is to propose the motion, which seeks to ensure that "those with the broadest shoulders carry the greatest burden" during economically straightened times. But with the VAT rise and welfare cuts on the horizon, quite how this goal will be achieved remains to be seen. An amendment has also been tabled on the hot topic of "progressive cuts" -- it will be interesting to see how far delegates are prepared to defend their coalition partners' proposals.

On the fringe

Following on from yesterday's controversy over the Free Schools policy motion, the New Statesman is hosting a fringe event on this very subject: Will schools have too much freedom in a "big society"? Duncan Hames MP and Russell Hobby, General Secretary, National Association of Head Teachers, join the New Statesman's Spencer Neal for the debate. More details here.

Conference timetable

09:00 - 09:55 Policy Motion: Localism

09:55 - 10:15 Speech: Lord McNally

10:15 - 11:20 Policy Motion: Ensuring Fairness in a Time of Austerity

11:20 - 12:20 Policy Motion: Equal Marriage in United Kingdom

12:20 - 12:40 Speech: Simon Hughes MP

14:30 - 15:15 Question and Answer Session: Public Services and Benefits

15:15 - 15:35 Speech: Chris Huhne MP

15:35 - 16:05 Emergency Motion: Pakistan Floods

16:05 - 16:35 Topical Issue: Building A Low Carbon Economy

16:35 - 16:55 Presentation: Liberal Democrat Group on Fife Council

16:55 - 17:35 Reports: Parliamentary Parties of the Liberal Democrats

17:35 - 18:00 Constitutional Amendment: Election of Local Authority Councillors to Federal Committees, Constitutional Amendment: Substitution for the Leader on the Federal Policy Committee

Full conference timetable here.

Caroline Crampton is assistant editor of the New Statesman. She writes a weekly podcast column.

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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