In this week's New Statesman: Europe's most dangerous leader

Plus a special report: can we afford foreign aid?

Can we afford foreign aid?

At the centre of the New Statesman’s aid package this week, the economist Dambisa Moyo, and the Liberal Democrat peer Paddy Ashdown debate the fundamental question: does aid work?

Moyo argues that much international aid to Africa has been ineffective in “combating poverty and spurring economic growth in a sustained way” because the majority is given without effective conditions attached – and that aid can negatively impact on an economy.

Moreover, foreign aid leads governments to spend more time “courting and catering to their donors than on their constituents”. Moyo questions why the world continues with its aid-based approach in Africa “when we know that trade, investment (domestic and foreign) as well as transparent and effective capital markets are essential for economic success”: 

There is a sense in which there is one set of policies designed for Africa, and another for the rest of the world.

Ashdown, meanwhile, argues that providing long-term aid is a practical as well as moral thing for the UK to do: 

The right type of development aid not only helps countries grow and gives children a better future but is also hugely important in helping to prevent great humanitarian crises. In the future, poverty and lack of access to resources will be two of the greatest drivers of conflict. Aid, which lifts countries out of hopelessness and poverty, is one of the best ways to prevent these conflicts. If you think aid is expensive, try war as an alternative. 

Also in the aid package, Imran Khan tells Mehdi Hasan that in Pakistan, “aid finances a lavish lifestyle” for politicians. Asked what damage international aid has done to the country, the chairman of the Movement for Justice party responds:

First, it stops us making the reforms to restructure our economy. If you have a fiscal deficit, you will be forced to cut your expenditure and you will do everything to raise your revenues. This important development did not take place, because of aid. Second, IMF loans. These two things have propped up crooked governments who have used the poor to service the debt through indirect taxation. The poor subsidise the rich in Pakistan. 

Elsewhere, the NS asks a number of campaigners and opinion-formers – from Jock Stirrup to Annie Lennox – a simple question: can aid end aid?

Tony Blair, who founded the Africa Governance Initiative, responds:

I believe in aid. That’s why, as prime minister, I negotiated the doubling of aid to Africa at the Gleneagles Summit in 2005 . . . But aid alone is not enough. Ultimately, development depends on two things: governance and growth . . . For our part, the rich world has to open up its markets and ensure that global trade rules are fair . . . [T]he of dependence on aid can be achieved within a generation.

Mo Farah, the British athlete and founder of the Mo Farah Foundation, argues “aid is vital in times of emergency – when famine struck Somalia last year UK aid kept people alive.” However, Farah points out: 

Drought is inevitable but famine is not, if we invest in the right solutions such as water wells, crop storage and support for farmers . . . We should be proud of our aid: it saves lives. And when the day comes when aid is no longer needed, we should be proud of that, too.

And in the NS interview, the model and charity ambassador Erin O’Connor tells Alice Gribbin how she thinks she can help Save the Children in their work with those suffering from preventable diseases in India:

“It’s about awareness. I’ve existed in 2D form for the past 15 years as a fashion model, but if that engages people who may recognise me here in the UK, that’s got to help in some way.”

Andrew Mitchell: “Midterm has arrived with a vengeance”

In the Politics interview, Rafael Behr discusses foreign spending in the age of recession with Andrew Mitchell, the Secretary of State for International Development. Mitchell rebuts criticisms aimed at the Tories that their commitment to aid is part of attempts to “decontaminate” the party brand. “It’s really insulting to say this is just about detoxifying the Conservative Party,” he tells Behr.

Mitchell also refutes complaints by some in the party that other “modernising” fixations – such as gay marriage – distract from the mainstream Conservative agenda. However, as Behr notes, the issue is a cause of grief for Tory MPs at the grass-roots level: some complain that gay marriage cost them seats in the May local elections. Mitchell instead blames economic uncertainty and the normal political cycle for the government’s difficulties, telling Behr:

“Midterm has arrived with a vengeance. It took a long time. Many of us couldn’t really understand why it was taking so long; it was like pulling a brick on an elastic.”

As an aside, Behr spots a telling piece of iconography in the cabinet minister’s office:

I notice, among the exotic souvenirs on a coffee table in the corner, a nutcracker that doubles as a Margaret Thatcher action figure.

Elsewhere in the New Statesman

  • John Burnside, the poet, novelist and NS nature columnist contributes a new short story, “Perfect and private things”, written exclusively for the New Statesman
  • Mehdi Hasan argues Angela Merkel’s mania for austerity is destroying Europe
  • Rachel Shabi reports on the need to question the accepted narrative on Syria
  • Conor Mark Jameson investigates what is causing the strange disappearance of our songbirds
  • Rafael Behr reveals Labour’s divisions over House of Lords reform
  • In Critics: Julia Copus explores the role of time in art and litearture; Toby Litt reviews the new book on Blondie, Parallel Lives; Alec MacGillis considers David Maraniss's biography of the young Barack Obama and Will Self's Madness of Crowds

 

Alice Gribbin is a Teaching-Writing Fellow at the Iowa Writers' Workshop. She was formerly the editorial assistant at the New Statesman.

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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