Europe, what have you done for me lately?

The EU's triumph on mobile charges shows how the union benefits consumers.

The debate about whether or not Britain should have a referendum on its membership of the European Union continues to rumble on with politicians from the left and right intervening. But not a single politician has mentioned a new piece of European legislation which is set to reduce mobile costs for consumers in Britain and further afield.

In the last few days, most mobile phone customers will have received a text from their operator informing them that roaming charges, the cost of using data services abroad on smart phones, are falling. None will have been told that the change is due to concerted action by the European Commission rather than a benevolent decision by their mobile company.

The new rules mean that no customer can be charged more than:

• 29 euro cents (24p) a minute to make a call.

• 8 cents (7p) a minute to receive a call.

• 9 cents (8p) to send a text message.

• 70 cents a megabyte (58p) to download data or browse the internet, charged by the kilobyte used.

My operator, Orange, have done the absolute minimum and brought their charges down from the extortionate rate of £2.55 to 58p per megabyte. They still charge £8 per megabyte to roam in most countries outside the EU. Despite being forced to take this action, their website claims that “We are constantly updating our roaming services in Europe to provide the best possible business service abroad.” A likely story.

Thankfully the European Commission aims to reduce the gap between domestic and foreign call rates to virtually nothing by 2015. Indeed, Labour MEP for South East England, Peter Skinner, said in May:

“If roaming prices have not come all the way down to domestic levels by 2016, then the European Commission will be obliged to propose additional legislation to ensure that roaming charges are identical to domestic prices.”

Over the last two days several politicians have added their thoughts on Europe without drawing attention to Brussels’ triumph on mobile charges. David Cameron has confused everyone with his ‘hokey-cokey’ on an EU referendum. Despite calling for “less Europe not more Europe” in the bearpit of yesterday’s Commons debate he used his Sunday Telegraph article to say “The single market is at the heart of the case for staying in the EU … Leaving would not be in our country’s best interests”. So why not follow through with an up-to-the-minute example such as the data roaming cap?

In the same paper, Liam Fox called for a “new relationship” with the EU (rather than exit). But rather than talking up the virtues of EU membership here and now he used the past tense to claim that:

“The single market was one of the most important aims of the European Union project, yet in choosing a model based on harmonisation rather than mutual recognition it became inevitable that a body of law and regulation would be created that would potentially invite bureaucratic cost, diminished global competitiveness and even give encouragement to those who would fan the embers of national protectionism.”

On Labour’s side, Douglas Alexander wrote in yesterday’s Guardian that an EU referendum is no substitute for a European strategy. In defending the EU, he commented:

“We must be clear, the single market is not just about “free trade” as the Eurosceptics misleadingly imply. It's about far more than that: removing barriers behind the borders – and that requires common rules with a commission and court to enforce them. And where we have shared goals – from tackling climate change to cross-border crime and human trafficking – in an era of billion-person countries and trillion-pound economies – we cannot afford to give up on ways that help amplify our voice and protect our interests.”

Better but still no cigar.

The failure of politicians in the UK on all sides to make the positive case for Europe is one of the reasons why the debate about a referendum has now reached fever pitch. An ‘in/out’ referendum can be won but politicians who favour remaining in and pushing back the UKIP tide must start to make the positive case.

European Union Commission President José Manuel Barroso. Photograph: Getty Images.

Will Straw is Associate Director at IPPR.

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The politics of the kiss

From the classical period via the Kremlin to the Clintons: a brief history of political smooching.

Iowa and New Hampshire are behind us. Super Tuesday beckons. For fans of the competitive sport of baby-kissing, this is as good as it gets.

Meanwhile, closer to Britain, kissing’s in our very constitution. Jeremy Corbyn’s future, depending on his success, could involve taking a trip to the Palace to kiss hands as Prime Minister – and as a republican. Being sworn into the Privy Council in November, he even managed a peck on the royal paw, but reportedly stood fast and did not kneel.

Why is there so much snogging in politics? 

Ancient Romans and Persians established – dare we – a pecking order on meeting. This ritual would make it instantly clear if they were equals (full-on, mouthy kiss, the basium), separated by a slight gap (cheeky peck, an osculum), or vast unequals (foot-kissing accompanied by much grovelling). Even heads of state greeted people in this way.

And there was nothing more dramatic – and bizarre – than the socialist fraternal kiss. Kremlinologists would even measure its intensity, to see how close Communist leaders were. The rule was to do three alternate kisses on the cheek, aping the Ancien Régime’s Orthodox Easter greeting. When two leaders were especially chummy – like then Soviet leader Leonid Brezhnev and GDR head Erich Honecker at the 30th anniversary of the GDR in East Berlin in 1979 – the world would witness a big, sloppy lip-plant. Paris Match splashed Régis Bossu’s iconic black-and-white image of the socialist snog across a double-page spread. Le Baiser, they called it.

Nikita Khrushchev, Joseph Stalin’s successor, locked lips with USSR chairman Klim Voroshilov when returning from a US visit in 1959. In July 1937, Stalin planted a decidedly non-frigid one on Ivan Spirin, a polar explorer and state hero.

But Brezhnev was the true practitioner. The joke in Russia went that he described a Warsaw Pact comrade “as a politician, rubbish...but a good kisser!”

Aside from the steamy Kremlin, social kissing on the mouth declined with the Black Death.

The courtly handkuss (kiss on the hand) generally went the same way with the fall of the German and Russian monarchies in 1917-18, though hung on longer in Austria. 

But French president Jacques Chirac made it his trademark, playing to the gallery with French élégance. An Associated Press story from 1967 chronicles the sad plight of European diplomats who had chanced it in Washington. One congressional wife jumped back, claiming she had been bitten; another said a stone was missing from her ring. “Chivalry has its drawbacks,” the story observed.

But back to the babies. We see kissing-as-canvassing in William Hogarth’s 1755 series The Humours of an Election

And in a close-fought 1784 Westminster by-election, we read of 24 women out canvassing with kisses – including the Duchesses of Rutland, Argyll, Ancaster, and (somewhat infamously) Devonshire. 

Kissing voters’ wives – now probably frowned upon by CCHQ – was customary fare for the 18th-century candidate. It’s only in the following century that we see the desexualisation of the electioneering kiss, moving to babies as innocuous. 

In 1836, Charles Dickens has his character Pickwick go to witness a post-Reform Act by-election in Eatanswill. “He has patted the babies on the head,” says the candidate’s election agent, trembling with anxiety. Roar of applause. “He has kissed one of ‘em!” Second roar. “He's kissing ‘em all!” The crowd’s shouts are deafening. And the candidate Slumkey coasts home to Parliament.

US presidents Richard Nixon, Grover Cleveland and Benjamin Harrison forswore baby kissing, grasping for a higher-minded political plane. Bernie Sanders, too. 

But how are the rest of today's politicians doing, kiss-wise?

Barack Obama: After two terms, a kisser to be reckoned with. With adults. Apparently he doesn’t relish kissing babies, and has been called fatally ill-at-ease holding one. Full points for his lucky save with a reticent Aung San Suu Kyi in 2014, ending with a perfectly creditable side-hug and ear-kiss.

Pity Michelle, photographed rolling her eyes as Barack went in for the selfie with, say, Danish Prime Minister Helle Thorning-Schmidt in 2013. (For her part, Michelle fobbed off Silvio Berlusconi with a fully outstretched arm, taking no chances.)

David Cameron: Utterly denied by SamCam after his Tory conference speech in October 2015. Lord Grantham says in Downton he spent most of Eton avoiding the kisses of other boys; clearly, the Prime Minister didn’t get much practice while at school.

Angela Merkel: In her first meeting with Nicolas Sarkozy, out she came with a businesslike German handshake just as he ducked for the Gallic kiss. In a moment of British romantic awkwardness last May, during Cameron’s EU reform tour, we saw the Prime Minister lean in, short of closing the deal, as she pulled back and possibly searched for some new regulations to beat him away with.

Hillary Clinton: Is said to enjoy kissing babies. Is said not to enjoy kissing Bill, as in the 2008 Correspondents’ Dinner when she expertly ducked one from him.  And scored one from Obama instead. But maybe she ought to lay off the baby-kissing: a journal article in Political Psychology suggests voters are 15 per cent less likely to vote for women candidates when their adverts evoke female gender stereotypes.

Donald Trump: In August, his baby-kiss in Alabama went viral – the baby’s mother just a bit too keen, the baby’s confusion mingled with slight fear reflecting the views of many of us. “That baby is us,” wrote blogger Stassa Edwards.

It’s a long road from here to the US election in November. And Cameron can look forward to kissing up to Merkel and a hot summer of Italian, Dutch, and even French kisses too.

So this Valentine’s Day, spare a thought for the babies. And the bureaucrats.