Labour's new prawn cocktail offensive

Miliband's drive to recruit business people as party candidates has raised some eyebrows.

In one of his most pointed interventions since leaving office, Tony Blair warned Labour MPs earlier this year that the party could not afford to "go into the next election without the support of a single CEO from a big company" as it did in 2010. Ed Miliband, who appeared with Blair at a party fundraiser last week, seems to have been listening.

At Labour's annual business reception tonight (in the rarefied surroundings of the Chartered Accountants' Hall in the City of London), Miliband will announce a new drive to recruit business people as parliamentary candidates. The Future Candidates Programme will offer mentoring for those who want to go from business into politics. According to the party, applicants do not need to be Labour Party members but "should share Labour values" and "be willing to join if selected to take part in the programme".

The decision to waive the requirement that one be a Labour member has already caused some to raise a sceptical eyebrow. Labour List's Mark Ferguson notes that "Joining a party to become a candidate isn’t necessarily the best way to get the best MPs and councillors…".

Of the programme, Chuka Umunna, the shadow business secretary, said:

Not only do we want more people setting up businesses, leading businesses and working in businesses, we want more people from the world of business in our ranks - from our councillors to our MPs. There are some already: like our MPs in the shadow Business team; all of whom have set up and run businesses or worked for business, but we need more.

We know many people who go into business share our values: hard work, contributing to society, creating something from nothing, creating jobs, creating value. This is why we want to bolster the number of people from business in our ranks and from different walks of business life – from entrepreneurs to engineers, manufacturers to media marketers, architects to analysts, retailers to recruiters.

In a similar spirit, Umunna used his summer reception at Adam Street last night to announce a new campaign to save the private members' club, which is threatened with conversion into luxury flats. It was, he said, an important networking venue for business people and entrepreneurs.

What of the need to recruit more working class candidates, you may ask. Well, the two aims are not mutually exclusive - Labour can recruit working class business people - and Jon Trickett, the shadow cabinet office minister, recently launched a new programme to increase the number of working class candidates. All the same, some will note that that launch received considerably less promotion than today's. Where was the reception for working class applicants? (Miliband's appearance at the Durham miners' gala notwithstanding). And if business people are not expected to be existing Labour members, why should anyone be? Those are some of the questions Miliband and co will need to answer.

Ed Miliband will offer business people who are not Labour members the chance to become parliamentary candidates. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

Getty Images
Show Hide image

Is there such a thing as responsible betting?

Punters are encouraged to bet responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly.

I try not to watch the commercials between matches, or the studio discussions, or anything really, before or after, except for the match itself. And yet there is one person I never manage to escape properly – Ray Winstone. His cracked face, his mesmerising voice, his endlessly repeated spiel follow me across the room as I escape for the lav, the kitchen, the drinks cupboard.

I’m not sure which betting company he is shouting about, there are just so many of them, offering incredible odds and supposedly free bets. In the past six years, since the laws changed, TV betting adverts have increased by 600 per cent, all offering amazingly simple ways to lose money with just one tap on a smartphone.

The one I hate is the ad for BetVictor. The man who has been fronting it, appearing at windows or on roofs, who I assume is Victor, is just so slimy and horrible.

Betting firms are the ultimate football parasites, second in wealth only to kit manufacturers. They have perfected the capitalist’s art of using OPM (Other People’s Money). They’re not directly involved in football – say, in training or managing – yet they make millions off the back of its popularity. Many of the firms are based offshore in Gibraltar.

Football betting is not new. In the Fifties, my job every week at five o’clock was to sit beside my father’s bed, where he lay paralysed with MS, and write down the football results as they were read out on Sports Report. I had not to breathe, make silly remarks or guess the score. By the inflection in the announcer’s voice you could tell if it was an away win.

Earlier in the week I had filled in his Treble Chance on the Littlewoods pools. The “treble” part was because you had three chances: three points if the game you picked was a score draw, two for a goalless draw and one point for a home or away win. You chose eight games and had to reach 24 points, or as near as possible, then you were in the money.

“Not a damn sausage,” my father would say every week, once I’d marked and handed him back his predictions. He never did win a sausage.

Football pools began in the 1920s, the main ones being Littlewoods and Vernons, both based in Liverpool. They gave employment to thousands of bright young women who checked the results and sang in company choirs in their spare time. Each firm spent millions on advertising. In 1935, Littlewoods flew an aeroplane over London with a banner saying: Littlewoods Above All!

Postwar, they blossomed again, taking in £50m a year. The nation stopped at five on a Saturday to hear the scores, whether they were interested in football or not, hoping to get rich. BBC Sports Report began in 1948 with John Webster reading the results. James Alexander Gordon took over in 1974 – a voice soon familiar throughout the land.

These past few decades, football pools have been left behind, old-fashioned, low-tech, replaced by online betting using smartphones. The betting industry has totally rebooted itself. You can bet while the match is still on, trying to predict who will get the next goal, the next corner, the next throw-in. I made the last one up, but in theory you can bet instantly, on anything, at any time.

The soft sell is interesting. With the old football pools, we knew it was a remote flutter, hoping to make some money. Today the ads imply that betting on football somehow enhances the experience, adds to the enjoyment, involves you in the game itself, hence they show lads all together, drinking and laughing and putting on bets.

At the same time, punters are encouraged to do it responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly. Responsibly and respect are now two of the most meaningless words in the football language. People have been gambling, in some form, since the beginning, watching two raindrops drip down inside the cave, lying around in Roman bathhouses playing games. All they’ve done is to change the technology. You have to respect that.

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 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war