Clegg calls time on child detention

A Lib Dem achievement to celebrate.

As part of David Cameron's "Save Nick" operation, the coalition has brought forward a series of policies designed to stamp the Lib Dems' identity on the government.

We've already been promised a new "crackdown" on tax avoidance and a scholarship fund for poorer students. Today, Clegg will confirm details of the government's plan to end the moral outrage of child detention – one of the Lib Dems' key manifesto promises and a policy we've long argued for through our No Place for Children campaign.

Clegg is due to announce that no children will be detained in asylum centres this Christmas and that the practice, which he described as "state-sponsored cruelty", will end altogether by 12 May – the first anniversary of the coalition agreement.

The accompanying statistics are a grim reminder of Labour's shameful treatment of asylum-seekers. In the party's last term in office, on average, almost seven children a day were locked up; 173 children were detained for longer than a month in the last year alone. In total, 7,075 children were locked up for an average of 13 days.

One study revealed that 65 per cent of children had suffered physically due to their detainment and that more than half had been damaged psychologically, the symptoms including heightened anxiety, loss of bowel control, refusing food and bedwetting.

Clegg will say:

Because our starting point is this: there is no greater test of civilised society than how it treats its children. Today's announcement marks a big culture shift within our immigration system. One that puts our values – the protection of children – above paranoia over our borders. One that prioritises doing the right thing [rather] than looking and sounding tough.

With this in mind, there seems little reason why the coalition should not end child detention immediately. There is every risk that children could still be detained in the window after Christmas and before the formal ban.

Yet this is still a rare example of a genuine Lib Dem achievement and one for which Clegg deserves much credit. There is no doubt that the policy would not have been pursued by a Conservative-only government.

After this Lib Dem success, the scene is now set for a series of policy showdowns over control orders, banking reform, executive pay and an elected House of Lords. If Clegg is to live up to his boast that his party is pushing Tory ministers in a more liberal direction, he will need to prevail in several of these matters.

In an attempt to avoid the "fucking car crash" that David Cameron warned of, the coalition has again delayed a decision on the future of control orders. But the new year will soon pit Clegg against Theresa May and the security establishment.

It is a battle that he must not lose. On this occasion, the alibi of the deficit will not be available to him. Retention of control orders would amount to a fundamental breach of principle.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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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