Five of the Best

The top five comment pieces from today's papers

The Guardian's Martin Kettle argues that David Cameron's strident anti-statism raises questions about his suitability for office:

Does anyone else in the economically developed world believe that the financial crisis has all been the fault of government? Or that the recovery, when it happens, will have nothing to do with ministers' actions? It is hard to believe that the word "market" did not appear anywhere in Cameron's hour-long speech, but it didn't. Nor was there anything about the banks. This is ignorant or dogmatic -- or both. Either way, it raises a massive question about Cameron's claims to lead the country.

In the Wall Street Journal, Tony Blair says that China is changing for the better in every sphere:

There is a new cadre of people coming to the fore within government. Conversations with Chinese leaders today -- at the provincial, as well as the central government level -- are a world away from the stilted, pro forma exchanges I remember on my first visit 20 years ago.

The Financial Times's Philip Stephens argues that the Conservatives are wilfully encouraging the politics of pessimism:

Senior Conservatives say that the gloom is all about honesty: tell it how it is and the voters will trust you. A slightly more cynical interpretation says that the darker the picture the party paints before the election, the more credit it will gain when prosperity returns.

My fear is that the urge to slash-and-burn has elbowed aside everything else; that, for many in Mr Cameron's party, the casting of government as the villain is a sufficient prospectus to govern.

The New York Times's Paul Krugman warns that the economic crisis has further weakened America's education system:

According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, the United States economy lost 273,000 jobs last month. Of those lost jobs, 29,000 were in state and local education, bringing the total losses in that category over the past five months to 143,000. That may not sound like much, but education is one of those areas that should, and normally does, keep growing even during a recession. Markets may be troubled, but that's no reason to stop teaching our children. Yet that's exactly what we're doing.

In the Daily Mail, Max Hastings says that General Dannatt's charge into the political arena sets a worrying precedent:

[P]oliticisation of the army represents a big change for Britain. A precedent is being established which must lead to many difficulties. These will recur whenever and wherever the army is committed to operations and its commanders dislike the terms of engagement set by the government of the day. This they often do, and will again in the future.


George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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For the first time in my life I have a sworn enemy – and I don’t even know her name

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

Last month, I made an enemy. I do not say this lightly, and I certainly don’t say it with pride, as a more aggressive male might. Throughout my life I have avoided confrontation with a scrupulousness that an unkind observer would call out-and-out cowardice. A waiter could bring the wrong order, cold and crawling with maggots, and in response to “How is everything?” I’d still manage a grin and a “lovely, thanks”.

On the Underground, I’m so wary of being a bad citizen that I often give up my seat to people who aren’t pregnant, aren’t significantly older than me, and in some cases are far better equipped to stand than I am. If there’s one thing I am not, it’s any sort of provocateur. And yet now this: a feud.

And I don’t even know my enemy’s name.

She was on a bike when I accidentally entered her life. I was pushing a buggy and I wandered – rashly, in her view – into her path. There’s little doubt that I was to blame: walking on the road while in charge of a minor is not something encouraged by the Highway Code. In my defence, it was a quiet, suburban street; the cyclist was the only vehicle of any kind; and I was half a street’s length away from physically colliding with her. It was the misjudgment of a sleep-deprived parent rather than an act of malice.

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

I was stung by what someone on The Apprentice might refer to as her negative feedback, and walked on with a redoubled sense of the parental inadequacy that is my default state even at the best of times.

A sad little incident, but a one-off, you would think. Only a week later, though, I was walking in a different part of town, this time without the toddler and engrossed in my phone. Again, I accept my culpability in crossing the road without paying due attention; again, I have to point out that it was only a “close shave” in the sense that meteorites are sometimes reported to have “narrowly missed crashing into the Earth” by 50,000 miles. It might have merited, at worst, a reproving ting of the bell. Instead came a familiar voice. “IT’S YOU AGAIN!” she yelled, wrathfully.

This time the shock brought a retort out of me, probably the harshest thing I have ever shouted at a stranger: “WHY ARE YOU SO UNPLEASANT?”

None of this is X-rated stuff, but it adds up to what I can only call a vendetta – something I never expected to pick up on the way to Waitrose. So I am writing this, as much as anything, in the spirit of rapprochement. I really believe that our third meeting, whenever it comes, can be a much happier affair. People can change. Who knows: maybe I’ll even be walking on the pavement

Mark Watson is a stand-up comedian and novelist. His most recent book, Crap at the Environment, follows his own efforts to halve his carbon footprint over one year.

This article first appeared in the 20 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Brothers in blood