Tory majority, or Labour lead in a hung parliament? What a way to kick off . . .

The election campaign begins.

The choppers are out in force, with aerial pics of the Brown motorcade making the one-mile drive back from Buckingham Palace. My former colleagues at Sky News are in "split-screen" mode, with David Cameron on one half, gesticulating and pontificating, and a locked-off shot of a solitary policeman standing outside 10 Downing Street.

So what's the mood inside the bunker? A Brown aide tells me that the PM has a spring in his step. "He's at his best when faced with a tough challenge but he knows he has a plan, so he's fine," says the aide.

And I can believe it. I doubt that the Prime Minister will be punching the back of the front seat of his Jaguar this morning. Not if he's got a copy of the Guardian inside the car with him. The paper's latest ICM poll shows the Tory lead over Labour cut to 4 points for the first time in almost two years -- a lead that, if replicated on 6 May, would leave Labour as the largest single party in the House of Commons.

The Guardian's Julian Glover writes:

On a uniform national swing, these figures could leave Labour 30 seats short of an overall majority. Even if the Tories perform better than average in marginal seats -- as most people expect -- David Cameron would struggle to establish a secure parliamentary basis for power.

Amazing, eh? Who'd have predicted it? Not the great and the good of the anti-Brown lobby or commentariat. And certainly not the arch-critic of all things Brown, John Rentoul of the Independent on Sunday. Only a few weeks ago, John was telling me he had no doubt in his mind that Cameron's Conservatives would win a comfortable, double-digit parliamentary majority. This morning, according to a Paul Waugh tweet, John said:

Nobody, certainly not me, expected Gordon Brown to be in the position he is today.

Not quite. For the last time (I promise!), let me refer you all to the rather prescient column that James Macintyre and I wrote for the NS in June, in the wake of Labour's disastrous performance in the Euro elections, in which we referred to the "Tories' precarious electoral position" and concluded:

If . . . the Brown government can concentrate the country's attention on public services and public spending, Labour may well still stand a fighting chance of a hung parliament at next year's general election.

It's a suggestion, a prediction, that James and I have long stood by. Bring on 6 May!

UPDATE: Before I'm denounced by Tory trolls "below the line" as a "Labour spin doctor", let me apologise for failing to acknowledge above that there is, in fact, another reputable poll out today -- by YouGov for the Sun -- which tells a somewhat different story. The YouGov survey shows the Tories have reopened a 10-point lead over Labour -- which is, of course, the margin they need to maintain in order to win an overall majority next month.

So is the ICM poll just a "rogue", as some Tory sympathisers have suggested? Who knows? Don't forget: as a wise man once said, rogue polls tend to be polls you don't like. And even the YouGov survey shows an increase in the Labour share (from 29 to 31 per cent). So I still think there's reason for Brown, and Labour supporters, to be cheerful this morning.

 

Mehdi Hasan is a contributing writer for the New Statesman and the co-author of Ed: The Milibands and the Making of a Labour Leader. He was the New Statesman's senior editor (politics) from 2009-12.

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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