Lansley's bill has killed debate about the future of the NHS

There is a whole lot of politics and very little policy in the war over the government's health refo

Does any of the three main parties actually have a policy for the NHS? It may sound like a peculiar question given that huge stores of energy are currently being spent debating the future of the health service in parliament, but having a big argument in Westminster is not the same as having a coherent agenda.

The Health and Social Care Bill returns to the House of Lords this week and Liberal Democrat peers have some amendments covering the controversial section of the reforms dealing with increased competition between different providers. Crudely, speaking the vital question is how widely market forces will be allowed to operate when, under the new structures created by Andrew Lansley's reforms, GPs are given control over budgets and instructed to purchase the best value care for patients.

Lib Dems in the Lords want to rewrite parts of the Bill that would give the Competition Commission regulatory authority over healthcare. That, it is feared, would amount to a legal mandate for breaking up NHS "monopolies" and, if enough private providers complained about being shut out of contracts, forcing GPs to curtail their use of state services. In terms of the underlying principles of the Lansley project, this argument is pivotal; it is the big one. It is clear from the way the original bill was designed that the Health Secretary wants a radical acceleration of competition to be the main driver of change in the service. The logical extension of the reforms - as initially conceived - is for the NHS label to be, effectively, a kite mark, signalling that care has been paid for by the state and is being carried out by a licensed provider. It should, in theory, be irrelevant whether the people actually doing the caring are public or private sector employees.

It is also clear that the government is too scared to tell the public that this is what Lansley had in mind when he drafted the bill. It sounds and looks a little bit too much like privatisation, which is not a word the Tories want attached to their ambitions for the NHS. That makes it very hard for the government to fight the forthcoming battle in the Lords.

Number 10 is saying it is relaxed about amendments that might "clarify" this crucial section of the bill, but would be unhappy with substantial changes. Does that mean the Prime Minister insists on a level of competition from private providers that forcefully dismantles state monopolies? Or would he be satisfied with a watered down competition clause that amounts, in essence, to an extension of the "internal market" that existed under Labour? Another way of phrasing the question: does Cameron actually want to implement Lansley's vision or is he only pressing ahead with the bill to avoid the humiliation of abandoning a high-profile project in which he has already invested a lot of political capital?

The Lib Dem amendments have been sanctioned by Nick Clegg, largely, it seems, because he is aware of deep dissatisfaction in his party and fearful of being presented, come the next election, as an accomplice in Tory sabotage of a cherished national institution. But does he think a dramatic increase in competition from the private sector - policed by an anti-monopolies regulator - would be a driver of greater efficiency and quality of care in the health service? If the answer is "yes", why is he allowing his peers to sabotage the bill? If the answer is "no", why is he voting for any of this legislation?

As for Ed Miliband, his position is clear enough for an opposition leader. He has written in the Times today calling (again) for the bill to be scrapped. The issue of competition is addressed in passing:

Nor is the cause of integration helped by the Bill's aim to turn the whole NHS into a commercial market explicitly modelled on the privatisation of the utilities in the 1980s. Introducing a free-market model throughout the healthcare system -- quite different from the limited competition currently in place -- will have a chilling effect on the behaviour of those trying to co-ordinate and co-operate.

Another way of putting this might be that market forces are tolerable when Labour allows them to operate in a carefully controlled environment, but destructive and corrosive when unleashed by Tories and Lib Dems. Fair enough, I suppose, but it is a very queasy way of making peace with the Blairite legacy of public service reform. Nowhere else has Miliband dealt explicitly with the question of whether or not he thinks competition is a healthy or a pernicious mechanism for getting value for money in the public sector.

Which brings us back to that initial question. What is the three main parties' health policy? As far as I can make out it is as follows:

Conservatives: secure any version of Lansley's reforms, regardless of what the outcome will actually be for the NHS.

Labour: make sure every problem in the NHS is seen as a consequence of Lansley's reforms; avoid being drawn on alternative plans.

Liberal Democrats: look conspicuously worried about Lansley's reforms; in the event that they are enacted, hide.

Rafael Behr is political columnist at the Guardian and former political editor of the New Statesman

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The UK press’s timid reaction to Brexit is in marked contrast to the satire unleashed on Trump

For the BBC, it seems, to question leaving the EU is to be unpatriotic.

Faced with arguably their biggest political-cum-constitutional ­crisis in half a century, the press on either side of the pond has reacted very differently. Confronting a president who, unlike many predecessors, does not merely covertly dislike the press but rages against its supposed mendacity as a purveyor of “fake news”, the fourth estate in the US has had a pretty successful first 150-odd days of the Trump era. The Washington Post has recovered its Watergate mojo – the bloodhound tenacity that brought down Richard Nixon. The Post’s investigations into links between the Kremlin and Donald Trump’s associates and appointees have yielded the scalp of the former security adviser Michael Flynn and led to Attorney General Jeff Sessions recusing himself from all inquiries into Trump-Russia contacts. Few imagine the story will end there.

Meanwhile, the New York Times has cast off its image as “the grey lady” and come out in sharper colours. Commenting on the James Comey memo in an editorial, the Times raised the possibility that Trump was trying to “obstruct justice”, and called on Washington lawmakers to “uphold the constitution”. Trump’s denunciations of the Times as “failing” have acted as commercial “rocket fuel” for the paper, according to its CEO, Mark Thompson: it gained an “astonishing” 308,000 net digital news subscriptions in the first quarter of 2017.

US-based broadcast organisations such as CNN and ABC, once considered slick or bland, have reacted to Trump’s bullying in forthright style. Political satire is thriving, led by Saturday Night Live, with its devastating impersonations of the president by Alec Baldwin and of his press secretary Sean Spicer by the brilliant Melissa McCarthy.

British press reaction to Brexit – an epic constitutional, political and economic mess-up that probably includes a mind-bogglingly destructive self-ejection from a single market and customs union that took decades to construct, a move pushed through by a far-right faction of the Tory party – has been much more muted. The situation is complicated by the cheerleading for Brexit by most of the British tabloids and the Daily Telegraph. There are stirrings of resistance, but even after an election in which Theresa May spectacularly failed to secure a mandate for her hard Brexit, there is a sense, though the criticism of her has been intense, of the media pussy-footing around a government in disarray – not properly interrogating those who still seem to promise that, in relation to Europe, we can have our cake and eat it.

This is especially the case with the BBC, a state broadcaster that proudly proclaims its independence from the government of the day, protected by the famous “arm’s-length” principle. In the case of Brexit, the BBC invoked its concept of “balance” to give equal airtime and weight to Leavers and Remainers. Fair enough, you might say, but according to the economist Simon Wren-Lewis, it ignored a “near-unanimous view among economists that Brexit would hurt the UK economy in the longer term”.

A similar view of “balance” in the past led the BBC to equate views of ­non-scientific climate contrarians, often linked to the fossil-fuel lobby, with those of leading climate scientists. Many BBC Remainer insiders still feel incensed by what they regard as BBC betrayal over Brexit. Although the referendum of 23 June 2016 said nothing about leaving the single market or the customs union, the Today presenter Justin Webb, in a recent interview with Stuart Rose, put it like this: “Staying in the single market, staying in the customs union – [Leave voters would say] you might as well not be leaving. That fundamental position is a matter of democracy.” For the BBC, it seems, to question Brexit is somehow to be unpatriotic.

You might think that an independent, pro-democratic press would question the attempted use of the arcane and archaic “royal prerogative” to enable the ­bypassing of parliament when it came to triggering Article 50, signalling the UK’s departure from the EU. But when the campaigner Gina Miller’s challenge to the government was upheld by the high court, the three ruling judges were attacked on the front page of the Daily Mail as “enemies of the people”. Thomas Jefferson wrote that he would rather have “newspapers without a government” than “a government without newspapers”. It’s a fair guess he wasn’t thinking of newspapers that would brand the judiciary as “enemies of the people”.

It does seem significant that the United States has a written constitution, encapsulating the separation and balance of powers, and explicitly designed by the Founding Fathers to protect the young republic against tyranny. When James Madison drafted the First Amendment he was clear that freedom of the press should be guaranteed to a much higher degree in the republic than it had been in the colonising power, where for centuries, after all, British monarchs and prime ministers have had no qualms about censoring an unruly media.

By contrast, the United Kingdom remains a hybrid of monarchy and democracy, with no explicit protection of press freedom other than the one provided by the common law. The national impulse to bend the knee before the sovereign, to obey and not question authority, remains strangely powerful in Britain, the land of Henry VIII as well as of George Orwell. That the United Kingdom has slipped 11 places in the World Press Freedom Index in the past four years, down to 40th, has rightly occasioned outrage. Yet, even more awkwardly, the United States is three places lower still, at 43rd. Freedom of the press may not be doing quite as well as we imagine in either country.

Harry Eyres is the author of Horace and Me: Life Lessons from an Ancient Poet (2013)

This article first appeared in the 20 July 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The new world disorder