Will The Man In the Street Become Ed's Friend?

Ed Miliband needs to find the centre ground and make moves towards it

Jon Lydon, aka Johnny Rotten, was once asked by an interviewer if he had ever looked to "the man in the street" for inspiration for his songs. "Nah", he replied, "I met the man in the street once. He was a c***".

If Ed Miliband is ever asked a similar question he'll probably offer a more generous appraisal of his fellow citizens. Hopefully he'll also point out he's the leader of the Labour party, not anarchic front man for a revolutionary new teenage sub-culture, though these day's you can never be quite sure. But Ed Miliband likes the man in the street. And in tomorrow's speech to Labour party conference he's going to endeavour to make him his friend.

The leders annual conference address , currently being reworked by Ed Miliband himself, and feverishly polished by Greg Beales and half a dozen assorted aides, is always a closely guarded secret. And as such details of it have already been leaking like a sieve. Aside from the beatification of Tom Watson, and efforts to shamelessly bask in the reflective glory of the exposure of the phone-hacking scandal, two themes are set to dominate. The requirement for Labour to occupy the political middle-ground, and the need for Labour to seize control of the "responsibility agenda" in order to do so.

Both are potentially productive strategies. The idea of planting Labour's red flag in the electoral centre is hardly new. But given Ed Miliband's early fixation with constructing a "progressive majority", his decision to at least attempt to embrace a more orthodox constituency is a sign of progress.

As is his focus on responsibility. Miliband's June speech to London community activists, in which he grasped the nettle of welfare reform, and had harsh words for those at the bottom of the income scale who abuse the benefits system, was his best to date. It took him out of his comfort zone, demonstrated he was prepared to challenge prevailing wisdom within his own party, and showed he had the confidence to confront the Tories on territory they believed was theirs by right.

All sorted then. Quick tour of the middle ground. Short lecture on responsibility. Bash the bankers, Rupert Murdoch and Nick Clegg. Toynbee salivating, Mirror cheering, Man in the Street swooning. Job done.

If only. Gone are the days when the leader of the Labour party could seduce us all with an easy blend of self-deprecating humour, faux sincerity and estuary English. Whilst Tony Blair had his finger the pulse of the nation, Ed Miliband has been struggling to even find his stethoscope.

Take that ambition to secure a long-term lease on the centre ground. A great idea in concept. But does he actually know where the middle ground is?

We had something of an insight a few weeks ago with the leaking/briefing of the Shaun Wooward memo. According to that analysis the Man in the Street is blasé about the deficit; "My credit card's maxed out", he says, "but lets whack a bit more on till the trouble passes". He's also opposed to immigration capping; "let 'em in", is his liberal attitude, "plenty of room for more where they came from". On welfare he takes an equally progressive view; "a hand out, not a hand up. That's what those poor blighters need".

Ed Miliband's team moved quickly to point out Woodward was merely providing an analysis of the Tory party's direction of travel, rather than a blueprint for Labour's own. But it was still telling that tough stances on deficit reduction, immigration and crime were perceived to represent a move away from the political mainstream. Many observers would argue they sit slap bang in the middle of it.

Which begs another question. Even if Ed Miliband does identify where the middle ground is, does he have the will and means to move towards it? As one shadow cabinet source said, "You can't just keep saying you want to occupy the centre ground. You have to actively travel towards it".

Travel towards it. Or build it around you? There are some within Ed Miliband's circle who argue that running around trying to divine public opinion is a mugs game. They believe the political centre is shifting, and it's moving in their direction; "I'm absolutely a leader placing my party firmly in the centre ground but there's a new centre ground in our politics", Miliband said back in June, "The new centre ground, for example, that means you speak out on these issues of press responsibility, a new centre ground that says that responsibility in the banking system - which we didn't talk about enough when we were in government - is relevant, a new centre ground that says people are worried about concentrations of private power in this country when it leads to abuses". In the same way the rules of the game are seemingly being re-written in Labour's favour, so the terrain is perceived to be naturally gravitating leftwards.

But not everyone is so comfortable with this analysis. The political centre, "Is not a place that the party gets to pick", Liam Byrne pointedly told delegates in his speech yesterday. ?"The centre-ground is where voters say it is. Our challenge now is to change and move in and say once more the centre-ground is our home-ground, and this is where we fight". There are a number of others in the shadow cabinet who would also like a little less conversation about occupying the middle-ground and a little more action.

Sadly, Miliband's speech writers keep falling foul of their own unique brand of realpolitik. An insider cites a debate over a particular passage referring to a "covenant with the British people". It was included in an early draft, but was then deemed to have too many quasi-religious overtones. Then someone else thought it sounded too Blairite, which killed the "covenant" off for good. A "contract" was then muted. But that was thought too corporate. Bankers have contracts. And so "the Labour Deal" was born. "Are we a party or a supermarket chain", once source moaned.

Similar issues surrounded another key theme, the impending assault on Britain's "vested interests". Would this be extended to include, for example, those who view the benefits system as a vested interest, Miliband was asked by one his shadow cabinet colleagues. "No" was the response. They were to stick to people at the top of the income ladder.

The middle-ground. The responsibility agenda. The Labour Deal. These will be Ed Miliband's key offerings to the man in the street. Whether he will accept this kind offer is another matter. He may not be a c***. But he can certainly be an awkward bugger.

Getty
Show Hide image

"We repealed, then forgot": the long shadow of Section 28 homophobia

Why are deeply conservative views about the "promotion" of homosexuality still being reiterated to Scottish school pupils? 

Grim stories of LGBTI children being bullied in school are all too common. But one which emerged over the weekend garnered particular attention - because of the echoes of the infamous Section 28, nearly two decades after it was scrapped.

A 16-year-old pupil of a West Lothian school, who does not wish to be named, told Pink News that staff asked him to remove his small rainbow pride badge because, though they had "no problem" with his sexuality, it was not appropriate to "promote it" in school. It's a blast from the past - the rules against "promoting" homosexuality were repealed in 2000 in Scotland, but the long legacy of Section 28 seems hard to shake off. 

The local authority responsible said in a statement that non-school related badges are not permitted on uniforms, and says it is "committed to equal rights for LGBT people". 

The small badge depicted a rainbow-striped heart, which the pupil said he had brought back from the Edinburgh Pride march the previous weekend. He reportedly "no longer feels comfortable going to school", and said homophobia from staff members felt "much more scar[y] than when I encountered the same from other pupils". 

At a time when four Scottish party leaders are gay, and the new Westminster parliament included a record number of LGBTQ MPs, the political world is making progress in promoting equality. But education, it seems, has not kept up. According to research from LGBT rights campaigners Stonewall, 40 per cent of LGBT pupils across the UK reported being taught nothing about LGBT issues at school. Among trans students, 44 per cent said school staff didn’t know what "trans" even means.

The need for teacher training and curriculum reform is at the top of campaigners' agendas. "We're disappointed but not surprised by this example," says Jordan Daly, the co-founder of Time for Inclusive Education [TIE]. His grassroots campaign focuses on making politicians and wider society aware of the reality LGBTI school students in Scotland face. "We're in schools on a monthly basis, so we know this is by no means an isolated incident." 

Studies have repeatedly shown a startling level of self-harm and mental illness reported by LGBTI school students. Trans students are particularly at risk. In 2015, Daly and colleagues began a tour of schools. Shocking stories included one in which a teacher singled out a trans pupils for ridicule in front of the class. More commonly, though, staff told them the same story: we just don't know what we're allowed to say about gay relationships. 

This is the point, according to Daly - retraining, or rather the lack of it. For some of those teachers trained during the 1980s and 1990s, when Section 28 prevented local authorities from "promoting homosexuality", confusion still reigns about what they can and cannot teach - or even mention in front of their pupils. 

The infamous clause was specific in its homophobia: the "acceptability of homosexuality as a pretended family relationship" could not be mentioned in schools. But it's been 17 years since the clause was repealed in Scotland - indeed, it was one of the very first acts of the new Scottish Parliament (the rest of the UK followed suit three years later). Why are we still hearing this archaic language? 

"We repealed, we clapped and cheered, and then we just forgot," Daly says. After the bitter campaign in Scotland, in which an alliance of churches led by millionaire businessman Brian Souter poured money into "Keeping the Clause", the government was pleased with its victory, which seemed to establish Holyrood as a progressive political space early on in the life of the parliament. But without updating the curriculum or retraining teaching staff, Daly argues, it left a "massive vacuum" of uncertainty. 

The Stonewall research suggests a similar confusion is likely across the UK. Daly doesn't believe the situation in Scotland is notably worse than in England, and disputes the oft-cited allegation that the issue is somehow worse in Scotland's denominational schools. Homophobia may be "wrapped up in the language of religious belief" in certain schools, he says, but it's "just as much of a problem elsewhere. The TIE campaign doesn't have different strategies for different schools." 

After initial disappointments - their thousands-strong petition to change the curriculum was thrown out by parliament in 2016 - the campaign has won the support of leaders such as Nicola Sturgeon and Kezia Dugdale, and recently, the backing of a majority of MSPs. The Scottish government has set up a working group, and promised a national strategy. 

But for Daly, who himself struggled at a young age with his sexuality and society's failure to accept it, the matter remains an urgent one.  At just 21, he can reel off countless painful stories of young LGBTI students - some of which end in tragedy. One of the saddest elements of the story from St Kentigern's is that the pupil claimed his school was the safest place he had to express his identity, because he was not out at home. Perhaps for a gay pupil in ten years time, that will be a guarantee. 

0800 7318496