Family matters

Labour is divided over how to address family issues - Ed Miliband needs to work out his strategy, fa

Senior parliamentary and shadow cabinet figures say that Labour is increasingly split on its approach to the family. As the party prepares its response to the UK Riots Inquiry Panel, this conflict has been thrown into stark relief. It's a case of serious family politics, and it cuts to the heart of what Labour is about.

Leading the old guard are the likes of Yvette Cooper who - perhaps understandably given her position as shadow home secretary - want Labour's response to the riots to lead on police cuts. Harriet Harman is also in this camp, although she is keen to broaden the narrative out to youth unemployment and cuts to youth services.

Shadow cabinet member Diane Abbott didn't want to comment on the splits, but she said that when it came to family life, "the majority of the shadow cabinet would rather park this issue."

But she does not seem convinced that this is the right approach:

“Some of my colleagues are skeptical of Ian Duncan Smith's family narrative and I share that up to a point. I'm a single mum... and don't want to feel second class because of it... but we shouldn't abandon talking about the family to the right and extremist religious nut jobs."

Off the record, another parliamentary source went even further:

"We've got to do police but family is equally relevant, and if we don't tackle that we will be out of touch. This is not just a post riots issue, it goes much deeper."

We need to wait for the evidence before we can make a judgement on any relationship between riots and family life. But the need for a new and deeper narrative about families and relationships is something I wholeheartedly believe in. Because as a councillor, I have to deal with cases of family break down every day, but I don't think Labour is getting it.

This week a fifteen-year-old told me that the first interaction he ever had with his dad was when he found him on Facebook.

The week before, a young guy nearly got glassed in a pub fight. His dad works as a local police officer, but said he wouldn't come down because he "wasn't on duty" that night.

What does Labour have to say about these cases?

At the moment the new Top Boy series resonates more with people than their political leaders.

These ideas are simmering in other parts of the party. Next week David Lammy MP is set to bring out his new book Out of the Ashes. It's strictly embargoed, but we can expect a post-liberal narrative that deals with fatherhood and masculinity as much as resources and benefits. Lammy told me:

"Social liberalism has delivered huge gains for ethnic minorities and women, but it can't answer everything. We may well need a more small c conservative response to bring the country together as more than individuals."

Blue Labour sympathisers like Jon Cruddas MP have been pushing the party in this direction for a long time, as reiterated in his inaugural Attlee lecture a few weeks ago. With a new leader and an election three years away, there is growing pressure for Labour to change.

I understand the anxieties about speaking out. There is a worry that defending the family really means slating single parent homes. There is a concern that we'll have to make value judgements about marriage or the role of women, or that we'll offend liberal ideas about the role of the state. But there must be a better way of reframing this debate. If you want to hear about the family, why should you have to go to the Tories?

Yes Labour did some great things for families in material terms. Huge amounts. But we didn't make the emotional link between polices and what mattered to people. We didn't speak to people's experience or values; we managed them in silence. It's not enough to throw in the occasional dry reference to responsibility - we need to talk about honour, love, loyalty, fear and hate.

Ed Miliband gets this argument in intellectual terms. But it's still unclear how far he'll go to change the party line. We urgently need to find a way of doing that, because these are the realities people are living with. Fatherhood. Family. They matter to people. And after all the cuts, that guy's dad is still working as a police officer, and his son hasn't stopped fighting.

Rowenna Davis is the author of Tangled Up In Blue

Rowenna Davis is Labour PPC for Southampton Itchen and a councillor for Peckham

Getty
Show Hide image

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