British decline presents new opportunities

In the post-recession world we should focus on pursuing fairness at home

The tale of British success remains a potent one. Britain launched the industrial revolution; emerged victorious from two world wars; gained a permanent seat on the UN Security Council and became one of the five official nuclear powers.

Thus, the sense of decline fuelled by the recession, the humiliation of our political class and the mounting casualties in Afghanistan has been particularly painful.

The subject of British decline is picked up in this week's issue of Newsweek, Stryker McGuire writes:

Even in the decades after it lost its empire, Britain strode the world like a pocket superpower. Its economic strength and cultural heft, its nuclear-backed military might, its extraordinary relationship with America - all these things helped this small island nation to punch well above its weight class. Now all that is changing as the bills come due on Britain's role in last year's financial meltdown, the rescue of the banks, and the ensuing recession.

Like many others, notably on the conservative right, McGuire commits the error of explicitly linking Britain's decline to its rising public debt. Even if the national debt rises to around 80 per cent in five years time, from its current level of 56 per cent, this will remain lower than the predicted G7 average.

As Peter Wilby writes in this week's New Statesman, "In 2008, Japan's debt was 170 per cent of GDP, Italy's 104 per cent, Germany's 65 per cent and the US's 61 per cent. Through most of the 20th century and much of the Victorian era, UK national debt was far higher than it is now."

But elsewhere, McGuire correctly argues that the collapse of the housing market and the decadence of the financial sector have left the economy without any obvious source of growth. He concludes: "The great test of the next prime minister and probably the one after that, will be not only to redefine Britain's place among great nations but also to renew the kind of spirit that has ruled Britannia in the past."

Yet the assumption that Britain should fight to maintain its position in the international pecking order ignores an alternative approach. Instead of struggling to project power abroad, we should focus on pursuing fairness at home.

This must begin with a programme of radical constitutional reform. The great error made by numerous commentators has been to discuss the political crisis and the economic crisis in isolation from each other.

In truth, far more than the expenses scandal, it is the financial crisis that mandates immediate constitutional reform; a set of 18th century institutions were shown to be utterly incapable of dealing with a 21st century crisis.

John Keane (whose latest tome The Life and Death of Democracy I am currently reading) makes this point well in today's Guardian:

Let us remember the true cause of the deepest slump since the Great Depression: democracy failure bred market failure. Unelected regulatory bodies and elected politicians, parties and governments let citizens down.

In the post-recession world, this sceptred isle will be forced to become a more pragmatic and a more modest nation. The £20bn renewal of Trident, little more than a national virility symbol, must be cancelled. Military intervention abroad, humanitarian or otherwise, will become increasingly unthinkable.

Politicians will no longer be able to promise the public services of Sweden with the tax rates of the US. An aging society will require all of us to pay higher taxes to fund an acceptable care system.

The so-called 'special relationship' with the US will continue to diminish as successive administrations focus on deepening relations with advancing powers, notably China, India and Brazil. Even Conservatives will be forced to admit full engagement with the European Union is the most attractive way of exercising influence.

Such reforms are long overdue and the chance to recast Britain as an egalitarian and progressive society, along the lines of the Nordic states, is now available. It is one the next government must take.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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What David Hockney has to tell us about football

Why the sudden glut of blond footballers? A conversation I had with the artist back in 1966 gave me a clue. . .

In 1966, I went to interview David Hockney at a rather run-down flat in Bayswater, central London. He was 28 and had just won a gold medal at the Royal College of Art.

In his lavatory, I noticed a cut-out photograph from a newspaper of Denis Law scoring a goal. I asked if he was a football fan. He said no, he just liked Denis Law’s thighs.

The sub-editors cut that remark out of the story, to save any gossip or legal problems. In 1966 homosexual activity could still be an offence.

Hockney and a friend had recently been in the United States and had been watching an advert on TV that said “Blondes have more fun”. At two o’clock in the morning, slightly drunk, they both went out, bought some hair dye and became blond. Hockney decided to remain blond from then on, though he has naturally dark hair.

Is it true that blonds have more fun? Lionel Messi presumably thinks so, otherwise why has he greeted this brand-new season with that weird blond hair? We look at his face, his figure, his posture and we know it’s him – then we blink, thinking what the heck, does he realise some joker has been pouring stuff on his head?

He has always been such a staid, old-fashioned-looking lad, never messing around with his hair till now. Neymar, beside him, has gone even blonder, but somehow we expect it of him. He had foony hair even before he left Brazil.

Over here, blonds are popping up all over the shop. Most teams now have a born-again blondie. It must take a fortune for Marouane Fellaini of Man United to brighten up his hair, as he has so much. But it’s already fading. Cheapskate.

Mesut Özil of Arsenal held back, not going the full head, just bits of it, which I suspect is a clue to his wavering, hesitant personality. His colleague Aaron Ramsey has almost the full blond monty. Paul Pogba of Man United has a sort of blond streak, more like a marker pen than a makeover. His colleague Phil Jones has appeared blond, but he seems to have disappeared from the team sheet. Samir Nasri of Man City went startlingly blond, but is on loan to Seville, so we’re not able to enjoy his locks. And Didier Ndong of Sunderland is a striking blond, thanks to gallons of bleach.

Remember the Romanians in the 1998 World Cup? They suddenly appeared blond, every one of them. God, that was brilliant. One of my all-time best World Cup moments, and I was at Wembley in 1966.

So, why do they do it? Well, Hockney was right, in a sense. Not to have more fun – meaning more sex – because top footballers are more than well supplied, but because their normal working lives are on the whole devoid of fun.

They can’t stuff their faces with fast food, drink themselves stupid, stay up all night, take a few silly pills – which is what many of our healthy 25-year-old lads consider a reasonably fun evening. Nor can they spend all their millions on fun hols, such as skiing in the winter, a safari in the spring, or hang-gliding at the weekend. Prem players have to be so boringly sensible these days, or their foreign managers will be screaming at them in their funny foreign accents.

While not on the pitch, or training, which takes up only a few hours a day, the boredom is appalling, endlessly on planes or coaches or in some hotel that could be anywhere.

The only bright spot in the long days is to look in the mirror and think: “Hmm, I wonder what highlights would look like? I’ve done the beard and the tattoos. Now let’s go for blond. Wow, gorgeous.”

They influence each other, being simple souls, so when one dyes his hair, depending on where he is in the macho pecking order, others follow. They put in the day by looking at themselves. Harmless fun. Bless ’em.

But I expect all the faux blonds to have gone by Christmas. Along with Mourinho. I said that to myself the moment he arrived in Manchester, smirking away. Pep will see him off. OK then, let’s say Easter at the latest . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 22 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times