Will Cameron answer the English question?

The promise of greater powers for Scotland means Cameron cannot avoid the issue of English devolutio

David Cameron's offer of further devolution for Scotland hasn't been well received by everyone. In today's Scotsman, the former Scottish Secretary Lord Forsyth, one of the Tories' Unionist attack dogs, accuses Cameron of playing into the SNP's hands. He points out, reasonably enough, that Cameron has undermined Scottish Tory leader Ruth Davidson, who was elected on a promise of no further devolution, and complains that the PM has allowed the debate to shift from independence to "devo max".

"If this is a tactic, it is a tactic that plays into Alex's hands, because the very last thing he wants is people actually talking about what independence would mean," he says.

But Forsyth doesn't confront the danger that denying Scotland greater powers only increases the attractiveness of independence. If Scots conclude that the only way to achieve fiscal autonomy is to vote Yes to secession, the Union may well be doomed.

It's a risk that ConservativeHome's Tim Montgomerie recognises in his persuasive piece in today's Guardian. He writes:

[T]he UK will be kept together by ensuring that voters normally get the type of government they vote for. Current arrangements are unsustainable. You can't have responsible government in Holyrood when, as now, MSPs control 60% of public expenditure in Scotland but only raise 6% of tax revenues. Devolution that ensures Scotland has to balance its budget is not another step towards independence but a final step towards a sustainable settlement.

He also urges Cameron to take up the mantle of devolution for England. An English Parliament, as I've argued before, is a non-starter - Westminster would never allow the creation of so powerful a counterweight - but the government could introduce ""English votes for English laws", a reform that would amount to the creation of an English Parliament within Westminster. As Montgomerie writes: "The quid pro quo for introducing devo plus north of the border must be English votes for English laws south of the border." Every Conservative manifesto since devolution has included a pledge to introduce this reform, and a government commission is currently examining the issue.

As Pete Hoskin argues at Coffee House, this is fertile territory for Labour as well as the Tories. The UK is now neither a unitary nor a federal state and its largest constituent group - the English - feels increasingly unrepresented.

But it's not hard to see why Ed Miliband's party remains resistant to English devolution. Deprived of the votes of Scottish and Welsh MPs, a future Labour government could struggle to pass contentious legislation. Alternatively, a future Labour opposition could face what Montgomerie calls a Tory "supermajority". Were non-English MPs excluded from voting on devolved issues, the Tories would currently have a majority of 63. For this reason, among others, Labour has already denounced the West Loathian commission as "partisan tinkering with our constitutional fabric".

All of which means the federalist road is Cameron's for the taking.

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