End the Punch-and-Judy politics

A less confrontational, more thoughtful era of politics has to start with David Cameron.

In British politics, Punch and Judy are for ever in and out of favour. David Cameron, as a new leader of the Conservative Party, promised an end to Punch-and-Judy-style debating, but then couldn't resist a bit of it. Blair was the same.

I guess even a saint, standing in front of everyone in the playground as they all shout "You're rubbish!", would respond eventually.

So I was pleased to see a tweet on today's PMQs from the Times's columnist David Aaronovitch today which said:

Rather enjoying the lobby's disappointment at PMQs not being a pointless slanging match.

Contrast that with a blog from Iain Martin at the Wall Street Journal, who claims that without the "Punch and Judy of politics" PMQs are "boring".

I, however, believe there is a way of getting this right.

In my fantasy world, David Cameron arrives as PM and sends out messages to all members of government saying that parliament is going to be totally different from now on.

It is no longer the intention to win "points" according to the Press Gallery's rules at Prime Minister's Questions. Instead, even if his tongue is bleeding from biting it, Cameron will resist the baiting and treat every questioner with the respect that his or her constituents deserve.

Cameron also communicates to all backbenchers, "No cheering and no jeering. We are in a serious and sober time in politics."

Just before the election, I found myself in a dubious situation at the arch Tory Carlton Club. The guest of honour was Margaret Thatcher. The person sitting next to me, who does not mix in typical Tory circles, asked me why all these rather bumptious men at the dinner kept shouting in über-posh voices: "Har, har, har!" I had to explain that they were saying, "Hear, hear."

If someone tuned in to PMQs without being a regular, they would ask similar questions.

To the wits of parliament, a Punch-and-Judy ban would be sheer torture. Could someone like William Hague or Michael Gove make it through their departmental questions without a witty putdown?

I would much rather see a parliament where someone is lauded for strong economic policies than one where that same person is sanctified for coming up with a "Stalin to Mr Bean" pay-off line.

Cameron himself would have to resist his weekly pre-rehearsed soundbites, criticising Ed Milliband's pre-rehearsed soundbites. Would someone like Ed Balls become uncomfortable and exposed in a debating scenario where the questions are searching but from which the invective is absent?

When a political reporter gives a politician points out of ten for PMQs, it is often based entirely on how well the MP bitch-slapped his or her opponent, not on the substance of the issue.

But if respect for politicians has never been lower and we have been doing PMQs the same way for years, isn't it time to try something different?

Come on, Cameron, you can change this. Nobody else can. It starts with you.

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The three big mistakes the government has made in its Brexit talks

Nicola Sturgeon fears that the UK has no negotiating position at all. It's worse than she thinks. 

It’s fair to say that the first meeting of the government’s Brexit ministers and the leaders of the devolved legislatures did not go well.

Scotland’s Nicola Sturgeon told reporters outside that it had all been “deeply frustrating”, and that it was impossible for her to undermine the United Kingdom’s negotiating position as “I can’t undermine something that doesn’t exist, and at the moment it doesn’t seem to me like there is a UK negotiating strategy”.

To which cynical observers might say: she would, wouldn’t she? It’s in Sturgeon’s interest to paint the Westminster government as clueless and operating in a way that puts Scotland’s interests at risk. Maybe so, but Carwyn Jones, her Welsh opposite number, tends to strike a more conciliatory figure at these events – he’s praised both George Osborne and David Cameron in the past.

So it’s hard not to be alarmed at his statement to the press that there is still “huge uncertainty” about what the British government’s negotiating position. Even Arlene Foster, the first minister in Northern Ireland, whose party, the DUP, is seen as an increasingly reliable ally for the Conservative government, could only really volunteer that “we’re in a negotiation and we will be in a negotiation and it will be complex”.

All of which makes Jeremy Corbyn’s one-liner in the Commons today that the government is pursuing neither hard Brexit nor soft Brexit but “chaotic Brexit” ring true.

It all adds to a growing suspicion that the government’s negotiating strategy might be, as Jacqui Smith once quipped of Ed Miliband’s policy review, something of “a pregnant panda – it's been a very long time in the making and no one's quite sure if there's anything in there anyway”.

That’s not the case – but the reality is not much more comforting. The government has long believed, as Philip Hammond put when being grilled by the House of Lords on the issue:

"There's an intrinsic tension here between democratic accountability of the government and effective negotiation with a third party. Our paramount objective must be to get a good deal for Britain. I am afraid will not be achieved by spelling out our negotiating strategy."

That was echoed by Theresa May in response to Corbyn’s claim that the government has no plan for Brexit:

 “We have a plan, which is not to give out details of the negotiation as they are being negotiated”

Are Hammond and May right? Well, sort of. There is an innate tension between democratic accountability and a good deal, of course. The more is known about what the government’s red lines in negotiations, the higher the price they will have to pay to protect. That’s why, sensibly, Hammond, both as Foreign Secretary during the dying days of David Cameron’s government, and now as Chancellor, has attempted to head off public commitments about the shape of the Brexit deal.

But – and it’s a big but – the government has already shown a great deal of its hand. May made three big reveals about the government’s Brexit strategy it in her conference speech: firstly, she started the clock ticking on when Britain will definitely leave the European Union, by saying she will activate Article 50 no later than 31 March 2017. Secondly, she said that Brexit meant that Britain would control its own borders. And thirdly, she said that Brexit meant that Britain would no longer be subject to the judgements of the European Court of Justice.

The first reveal means that there is no chance that any of 27 remaining nations of the European Union will break ranks and begin informal talks before Article 50 is triggered.

The second reveal makes it clear that Britain will leave the single market, because none of the four freedoms – of goods, services, capital or people – can be negotiated away, not least because of the fear of political contagion within the EU27, as an exit deal which allowed the United Kingdom to maintain the three other freedoms while giving up the fourth would cause increased pressure from Eurosceptics in western Europe.

And the third reveal makes it equally clear that Britain will leave the customs union as there is no way you can be part of a union if you do not wish to accept its legal arbiter.

So the government has already revealed its big priorities and has therefore jacked up the price, meaning that the arguments about not revealing the government’s hand is not as strong as it ideally would be.

The other problem, though, is this: Theresa May’s Brexit objectives cannot be met without a hard Brexit, with the only question the scale of the initial shock. As I’ve written before, there is a sense that the government might be able to “pay to play”, ie, in exchange for continuing to send money to Brussels and to member states, the United Kingdom could maintain a decent standard of access to the single market.

My impression is that the mood in Brussels now makes this very tricky. The tone coming out of Conservative party conference has left goodwill in short supply, meaning that a “pay to play” deal is unlikely. But the other problem is that, by leaving so much of its objectives in the dark, Theresa May is not really laying the groundwork for a situation where she can return to Britain with an exit deal where Britain pays large sums to the European Union for a worse deal than the one it has now. (By the way, that is very much the best case scenario for what she might come back with.) Silence may make for good negotiations in Brussels – but in terms of the negotiation that may follow swiftly after in Westminster, it has entirely the opposite effect. 

Stephen Bush is special correspondent at the New Statesman. His daily briefing, Morning Call, provides a quick and essential guide to British politics.