The aid question

There are challenges to the 0.7 per cent target, but the debate should be wider than a number.

The latest challenge to Britain's 0.7 per cent aid spending target offers little that is new. While the House of Lords Economic Affairs Committee Report marshals a fairly balanced argument against the imposition of arbitrary spending targets, what we see in the press is the by-now familiar "shoot from the hip" critique of the aid budget as bloated and ineffective. The result is an escalation of calls for an extension of the austerity agenda to the world's poor - no surprise there... On the other hand, the fact that a debate which directly affects hundreds of millions of lives is reduced to percentage points should be a cause for concern, no matter which side of the aisle you sit.

Support for the 0.7 per cent largely transcends all three major political parties in Westminster yet there are and always have been question-marks about the robustness of the target and whether unequivocal support for it is actually the best political strategy for those committed to sustaining the UK commitment to aid. It is, after all , a 40-year-old target, based on an idea of how much rich countries should cough up to meet the financing gap facing poor countries. It bears no relation to current needs (which are still significant and are changing) nor to rich countries' ability to pay (which is also significant). The target has all too often focused the attention of campaigning organisations on the quantity over the quality of development assistance and diverted much-needed political capital away from demonstrating the role that aid can play.

That said, the UK's international development budget affects more people than any other government budget. The idea we cannot afford it is nonsense and the UK aid pound works incredibly hard on behalf of the world's poor, often in very difficult circumstances. If we want to make a change in the world then the taxes we pay towards development are probably the surest way to do that. tThat shouldn't be underestimated for either its moral value or economic and diplomatic benefit. Plus it gives us a mechanism to hold other countries to account and ensure that the fight to end poverty is a global endeavour.

Solutions to global problems are far from simple. If money alone was the answer to global poverty then we'd be in a different place now. It takes more than just schools, vaccines and roads to deliver sustained progress. You also need more private investment, more effective teachers, more technology, innovation and better-quality leadership. Spending money on development without involving developing country governments and their citizens in decisions about how to spend it will only create unsustainable systems and unsustainable solutions.

Effectiveness and value for money are vital components of the aid conversation; it can never be a case of quantity over quality. The government's creation of an aid watchdog has started a process of cultural change and it has been met with a serious effort from NGOs to show results and value for money. Beyond the headlines the House of Lords committee's critique is reasoned but remains behind the curve of current action. Continuing critical thought about the future of Britain's aid relationships is essential, but political and media attention must find a way beyond the narrow prism of 0.7 per cent if the debate is to wake up to the challenges now framing global development.

Dr Alison Evans is the director of the Overseas Development Institute

Refugees in Ethiopia following severe drought in the Horn of Africa. Photo: Getty Images
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Let's face it: supporting Spurs is basically a form of charity

Now, for my biggest donation yet . . .

I gazed in awe at the new stadium, the future home of Spurs, wondering where my treasures will go. It is going to be one of the architectural wonders of the modern world (football stadia division), yet at the same time it seems ancient, archaic, a Roman ruin, very much like an amphitheatre I once saw in Croatia. It’s at the stage in a new construction when you can see all the bones and none of the flesh, with huge tiers soaring up into the sky. You can’t tell if it’s going or coming, a past perfect ruin or a perfect future model.

It has been so annoying at White Hart Lane this past year or so, having to walk round walkways and under awnings and dodge fences and hoardings, losing all sense of direction. Millions of pounds were being poured into what appeared to be a hole in the ground. The new stadium will replace part of one end of the present one, which was built in 1898. It has been hard not to be unaware of what’s going on, continually asking ourselves, as we take our seats: did the earth move for you?

Now, at long last, you can see what will be there, when it emerges from the scaffolding in another year. Awesome, of course. And, har, har, it will hold more people than Arsenal’s new home by 1,000 (61,000, as opposed to the puny Emirates, with only 60,000). At each home game, I am thinking about the future, wondering how my treasures will fare: will they be happy there?

No, I don’t mean Harry Kane, Danny Rose and Kyle Walker – local as well as national treasures. Not many Prem teams these days can boast quite as many English persons in their ranks. I mean my treasures, stuff wot I have been collecting these past 50 years.

About ten years ago, I went to a shareholders’ meeting at White Hart Lane when the embryonic plans for the new stadium were being announced. I stood up when questions were called for and asked the chairman, Daniel Levy, about having a museum in the new stadium. I told him that Man United had made £1m the previous year from their museum. Surely Spurs should make room for one in the brave new mega-stadium – to show off our long and proud history, delight the fans and all those interested in football history and make a few bob.

He mumbled something – fluent enough, as he did go to Cambridge – but gave nothing away, like the PM caught at Prime Minister’s Questions with an unexpected question.

But now it is going to happen. The people who are designing the museum are coming from Manchester to look at my treasures. They asked for a list but I said, “No chance.” I must have 2,000 items of Spurs memorabilia. I could be dead by the time I finish listing them. They’ll have to see them, in the flesh, and then they’ll be free to take away whatever they might consider worth having in the new museum.

I’m awfully kind that way, partly because I have always looked on supporting Spurs as a form of charity. You don’t expect any reward. Nor could you expect a great deal of pleasure, these past few decades, and certainly not the other day at Liverpool when they were shite. But you do want to help them, poor things.

I have been downsizing since my wife died, and since we sold our Loweswater house, and I’m now clearing out some of my treasures. I’ve donated a very rare Wordsworth book to Dove Cottage, five letters from Beatrix Potter to the Armitt Library in Ambleside, and handwritten Beatles lyrics to the British Library. If Beckham and I don’t get a knighthood in the next honours list, I will be spitting.

My Spurs stuff includes programmes going back to 1910, plus recent stuff like the Opus book, that monster publication, about the size of a black cab. Limited editions cost £8,000 a copy in 2007. I got mine free, as I did the introduction and loaned them photographs. I will be glad to get rid of it. It’s blocking the light in my room.

Perhaps, depending on what they want, and they might take nothing, I will ask for a small pourboire in return. Two free tickets in the new stadium. For life. Or longer . . . 

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 16 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times