Contraception is not a panacea

The UK Government/Gates Foundation summit on family planning is a good thing, but we can't be fooled into thinking it can solve all our problems.

Every day around the world 1,000 women die from complications related to pregnancy or childbirth. Think about it: that’s 365,000 women every year – almost as many as the total population of Bristol.

In many of the world’s poorest countries early marriage, overstretched healthcare services and low adoption of modern contraception methods together create a situation where pregnancy can be a cause for real concern as well as celebration.

So it is great news that the prime minister will tomorrow host a joint UK Government/Gates Foundation summit on family planning intended to provide 120 million women with access to contraception over the next eight years at a cost of £2.6bn.

David Cameron and International Development Secretary Andrew Mitchell certainly deserve real credit for putting the issue of family planning firmly on the development agenda. Giving millions more women the means to choose when and whether to start families will not only save lives, it will also help families who are struggling to feed their existing children avoid unwanted pregnancies. And it could play a role in helping younger brides delay pregnancy until they are ready to have children.

But the government needs to avoid the misconception that contraception is a panacea. Girls forced into early marriage, for example, often have less control over the choice about when to start a family. Handing out contraceptives is necessary but not enough. These efforts need to be backed up by education and support services that empower women to assert their rights. And women who choose to get pregnant will still die unnecessarily unless there are good quality health services to take care of them.

Alongside the provision of contraception we need more programmes like the one Oxfam runs in Hadrahmout Governate in Yemen where only a quarter of the population has access to primary healthcare.  There we are building health facilities, distributing home delivery kits and supporting health education and awareness raising programmes. We are also training midwives, a process which not only improves healthcare but can also raise the status of women in society.
These issues may not get much airtime at the summit, to be held on July 11, World Population Day, which is planned as the government’s latest effort to communicate to the British public the benefits our aid brings. In these tough economic times, ministers deserve a loud cheer for its unwavering commitment to keeping Britain’s promises to the poorest in the face of some significant opposition on their own backbenches and beyond.

There are potentially two reasons why ministers find family planning an attractive topic for such an event. Firstly, giving women a chance to gain control of their own reproductive health is something that can save lives, and that we can all understand.

Critics opposed to aid or who believe that our concern for the poorest should begin and end at home have two simple questions to answer: do you believe that it is right that women in Sierra Leone, for example, are more than 70 times more likely to die as a result of pregnancy or childbirth than those in the UK? If not, what would you do about it?

The second attraction of family planning is potentially more problematic. Population growth is the public’s number one concern about development– yes, higher than corruption. This goes beyond simple prejudice about growing numbers of Africans or Asians (although that doubtless does exist) - it is also fuelled by concerns that population growth is responsible for climate change and other environmental problems.

This is based on a fallacy. It is consumption in the rich rather than the poor world that is primarily responsible for the pressure on our planet. In the 25 years to 2005, for example, Sub-Saharan Africa accounted for almost a fifth of the growth in the world’s population but only 2.4 per cent of the increase in CO2 emissions. By contrast, North America was responsible for four per cent of population growth but a staggering 13.9 per cent of the rise in emissions.

These facts did not stop the Optimum Population Trust deciding a couple of years ago, ahead of the Copenhagen climate summit, to launch a carbon off-setting scheme where instead of planting forests your money was used to fund family planning in poor countries.

It is the government’s job to challenge public prejudice which is not based on fact. It needs to find ways to ensure that tomorrow’s summit avoids reinforcing such lazy and (for us high consumers) convenient thinking.

Barbara Stocking is Chief Executive of Oxfam

Indian programme officer G. Shilpa poses with a female condom at an awareness camp in Hyderabad. Photograph: Getty Images
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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