It's time for the Tories to go beyond deficit reduction

Cameron must use his speech this week to promote growth and job creation.

Over the next week, David Cameron will want to portray an image of strong leadership and firm resolution to the party and to the country. They will want to be reassured that the Government has a grip on the multi-faceted social and economic issues that the UK faces. And he will need to make clear that the Government understands the day to day concerns of ordinary people and is prepared to take decisive action to meet these concerns.

He also faces the challenge of broadening the Conservative appeal and moving the party's message from a negative one of deficit reduction to a more positive one of economic growth and job creation.

More than anything else, this week's Conservative conference, and David Cameron's speech in particular, needs to spell out what the Government's plans are to boost jobs and deliver growth.

Twelve months ago, when the Conservatives met in Birmingham, there was a feeling that implementing a deficit reduction plan had got the hard economic spadework out of the way. Now, with stuttering growth and rising unemployment, it is becoming clear that a deficit reduction plan is only a small, albeit necessary, part of an economic strategy.

The Tories will need to reassure the party faithful and the country at large that they have a coherent plan for growth and job creation and that the UK is well placed to ride out the continuing global crisis. Cameron will need to set out a passionate belief in reforming the economy to create jobs and tackle economic insecurity.

Such a plan for growth needs to include bold measures to encourage enterprise and job creation, further develop infrastructure, and pursue bold reforms to the planning system and the labour market. The Government also needs to take more radical steps to reform welfare and increase incentives to work, through promoting more conditionality and reciprocity in the system.

A conference focused on jobs would help the Conservatives address one of their fundamental political difficulties. Recent research for Lord Ashcroft showed that only 27 per cent of voters polled believe that the Conservatives are "on the side of ordinary people." The party needs to set out that it is on the side of ordinary people and will be taking measures to address their everyday concerns.

By setting out a strategy for jobs, Conservatives will begin to reach out to the ordinary voter worried about job security and the rising cost of living. Emphasising job creation and measures to help low and middle income earners squeezed by the economic situation would help Cameron to show that his Government is in touch with the real concerns of ordinary voters.

Whilst showing that he understands the needs of ordinary voters and is taking measures to boost growth, the Prime Minister must also carve out a more hopeful and positive message, against a difficult backdrop. He needs to make clear what the Government is doing to change the country for the better and that his party remains a positive and progressive one.

This might include setting out how reforms, in education for example, will improve outcomes for those from more deprived backgrounds. He also has to make clear that progressive reforms, from the pupil premium to gay marriage, aren't just Liberal Democrat inspired.

This party conference isn't set against an easy political or economic backdrop for the Conservatives. It is, however, their chance to set out a positive vision, with a broad appeal, of growth, reform and greater opportunity.

David Skelton is deputy director of Policy Exchange

 

David Skelton is the director of Renewal, a new campaign group aiming to broaden the appeal of the Conservative Party to working class and ethnic minority voters. @djskelton

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I dined behind the Houses of Parliament in my sexually connected foursome

My wife and I would sometimes dine out with another couple. We did not always check the significance of the date. 

I am self-employed and find that working from home, setting your own schedule, the days generally blur into each other, with weekends holding no significance, and public holidays, when those who are employed in factories, offices or shops get time off, meaning nothing. I am often surprised to go out and find the streets empty of traffic because it is some national day of observance, such as Christmas, that I wasn’t aware of. I find myself puzzled as to why the shops are suddenly full of Easter eggs or pancake batter.

Growing up in a Communist household, we had a distinct dislike for this kind of manufactured marketing opportunity anyway. I remember the time my mother tried to make me feel guilty because I’d done nothing for her on Mother’s Day and I pointed out that it was she who had told me that Mother’s Day was a cynical creation of the greetings card monopolies and the floral industrial complex.

Valentine’s Day is one of those I never see coming. It’s the one day of the year when even the worst restaurants are completely booked out by couples attempting to enjoy a romantic evening. Even those old-fashioned cafés you’ll find still lurking behind railway stations and serving spaghetti with bread and butter will tell you there’s a waiting list if you leave it late to reserve a table.

In the late 1980s my wife and I would sometimes dine out with another couple, he a writer and she a TV producer. One particular place we liked was a restaurant attached to a 1930s block of flats, near the Houses of Parliament, where the endless corridors were lined with blank doors, behind which you sensed awful things happened. The steel dining room dotted with potted palm trees overlooked a swimming pool, and this seemed terribly sophisticated to us even if it meant all your overpriced food had a vague taste of chlorine.

The four of us booked to eat there on 14 February, not realising the significance of the date. We found at every other table there was a single couple, either staring adoringly into each other’s eyes or squabbling.

As we sat down I noticed we were getting strange looks from our fellow diners. Some were sort of knowing, prompting smiles and winks; others seemed more outraged. The staff, too, were either simpering or frosty. After a while we realised what was going on: it was Valentine’s Day! All the other customers had assumed that we were a sexually connected foursome who had decided to celebrate our innovative relationship by having dinner together on this special date.

For the four of us, the smirking attention set up a strange dynamic: after that night it always felt like we were saying something seedy to each other. “Do you want to get together on Sunday?” I’d say to one of them on the phone, and then find myself blushing. “I’ll see if we can fit it in,” they’d reply, and we would both giggle nervously.

Things became increasingly awkward between us, until in the end we stopped seeing them completely. 

This article first appeared in the 25 May 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Why Islamic State targets Britain

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