Morning Call: pick of the papers

The ten must-read comment pieces from this morning's papers.

1. Getting rid of Dubya wasn't enough. The US remains a bully (Independent)

The issue isn't Obama, any more than it was Bush before him. The issue is US power, writes Owen Jones.

2.  The reshuffle question that Cameron and Clegg cannot afford not to ask (Guardian)

If this is the last chance before 2015 to revive the coalition's fortunes, then the case to ditch Osborne is daring but strong, writes Martin Kettle.

3. MPs must ensure no one else is denied the right to die (Independent)

Tony Nicklinson survived only days after the high court refused his plea for medical help to commit suicide and his death can only be described as a merciful deliverance, writes The Independent.

4. A people’s revolution is under way in the fight against crime (Telegraph)

Britain is leading the world with elected commissioners and a new College of Policing, writes

5. The fight for control of the internet has become critical (Guardian)

If plans to put cyberspace under a secretive UN agency go through, states' censoring of the web will be globally enshrined, writes John Kampfner.

6. Harry, a truly modern prince made flesh (Independent)

This will do his reputation no harm - he's the most excitingly debauched Royal since Henry VIII, writes Harriet Walker.

7. Asil Nadir: still guilty, then, after all these years (Guardian)

The disgraced Polly Peck tycoon expected a more sympathetic hearing. But demands for justice have only grown stronger

8. He wanted to die, but he also wanted to leave a legacy in law (Independent)

Within a few months of his stroke, Tony Nicklinson talked of wanting to die. His family knew locked-in life would never be enough, writes Nina Lakhani.

Save us from actors with delusions of grandeur (Telegraph)

The 'New Tricks’ thespians who think they write the scripts are kidding themselves, writes

Prince Harry: Conduct unbecoming (Telegraph)

The Prince’s disgraceful behaviour in a Las Vegas hotel room ignored the duty he owes to two respected institutions – the Royal family and the Army. He should know better, writes Peter Oborne.

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Why relations between Theresa May and Philip Hammond became tense so quickly

The political imperative of controlling immigration is clashing with the economic imperative of maintaining growth. 

There is no relationship in government more important than that between the prime minister and the chancellor. When Theresa May entered No.10, she chose Philip Hammond, a dependable technocrat and long-standing ally who she had known since Oxford University. 

But relations between the pair have proved far tenser than anticipated. On Wednesday, Hammond suggested that students could be excluded from the net migration target. "We are having conversations within government about the most appropriate way to record and address net migration," he told the Treasury select committee. The Chancellor, in common with many others, has long regarded the inclusion of students as an obstacle to growth. 

The following day Hammond was publicly rebuked by No.10. "Our position on who is included in the figures has not changed, and we are categorically not reviewing whether or not students are included," a spokesman said (as I reported in advance, May believes that the public would see this move as "a fix"). 

This is not the only clash in May's first 100 days. Hammond was aggrieved by the Prime Minister's criticisms of loose monetary policy (which forced No.10 to state that it "respects the independence of the Bank of England") and is resisting tougher controls on foreign takeovers. The Chancellor has also struck a more sceptical tone on the UK's economic prospects. "It is clear to me that the British people did not vote on June 23 to become poorer," he declared in his conference speech, a signal that national prosperity must come before control of immigration. 

May and Hammond's relationship was never going to match the remarkable bond between David Cameron and George Osborne. But should relations worsen it risks becoming closer to that beween Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling. Like Hammond, Darling entered the Treasury as a calm technocrat and an ally of the PM. But the extraordinary circumstances of the financial crisis transformed him into a far more assertive figure.

In times of turmoil, there is an inevitable clash between political and economic priorities. As prime minister, Brown resisted talk of cuts for fear of the electoral consequences. But as chancellor, Darling was more concerned with the bottom line (backing a rise in VAT). By analogy, May is focused on the political imperative of controlling immigration, while Hammond is focused on the economic imperative of maintaining growth. If their relationship is to endure far tougher times they will soon need to find a middle way. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.