Five questions answered on report criticising the government’s rural broadband rollout plans

We were promised super-fast broadband - where is it?

The National Audit Office has raised concerns over the government’s delayed roll out of superfast rural broadband. We answer five questions on the report.

What are they key criticisms of the report?

Mostly that the scheme is two years behind its original schedule. Only nine out 44 rural areas are expected to reach targets for high superfast internet by 2015, with another four potentially missing an extended 2017 deadline.

The office is also concerned that BT would be the only firm likely to win contracts and thus benefit from £1.2bn of public funds as a result. It also raises concerns over the government’s ability to negotiate fair contracts with BT.

If the scheme is delayed does the report think it will cost the taxpayer more?

Yes.

Originally Culture Secretary Jeremy Hunt pledged to have internet speeds above 24 megabits per second available to 90 per cent of premises in every local authority of the UK by May 2015 for £530m, plus funds added by local councils.

Last week the treasury revised its plans, stating that it wanted 95 per cent of UK properties with access to superfast broadband by the end of 2017, and pledged another £250m more to meet this goal.

The report states that the: "government is not strong at taking remedial action to guard against further slippage".

There have also been claims that the Department for Culture Media and Sport (DCMS) does not have a proper grip on the programme and that BT is being unclear about costs.

What are other people saying?

Labour MP Margaret Hodge, who is the chair of Parliament's Public Accounts Committee, speaking to the BBC said: "Opaque data and limited benchmarks for comparison means the department has no idea if BT is being reasonable or adding in big mark ups.”

What has the DCMS said?

"We agree that effective enforcement of the contracts is important and are working with local authorities to ensure this," a spokesperson told the BBC.

"As the NAO report makes clear, the project's funding model greatly reduced the cost and financial risk to the taxpayer."

What has BT said?

"There was strong competition when prices were set at the start of the process and that has ensured counties have benefited from the best possible terms," the company told the BBC.

"Deploying fibre broadband is an expensive long-term business and so it was no surprise that others dropped out as the going got tough."

However, the report states that there had already been one instance where the company had been caught overcharging the government for management costs of £3m. It also pointed out that some of BT’s figures are largely based on assumption.

Fibre-optic cables - the tools of the trade. Photograph: Getty Images.

Heidi Vella is a features writer for Nridigital.com

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Arsène Wenger: how can an intelligent manager preside over such a hollowed-out team?

The Arsenal manager faces a frustrating legacy.

Sport is obviously not all about winning, but it is about justified hope. That ­distinction has provided, until recently, a serious defence of Arsène Wenger’s Act II – the losing part. Arsenal haven’t won anything big for 13 years. But they have been close enough (and this is a personal view) to sustain the experience of investing emotionally in the story. Hope turning to disappointment is fine. It’s when the hope goes, that’s the problem.

Defeat takes many forms. In both 2010 and 2011, Arsenal lost over two legs to Barcelona in the Champions League. Yet these were rich and rewarding sporting experiences. In the two London fixtures of those ties, Arsenal drew 2-2 and won 2-1 against the most dazzling team in the world. Those nights reinvigorated my pride in sport. The Emirates Stadium had the best show in town. Defeat, when it arrived in Barcelona, was softened by gratitude. We’d been entertained, more than entertained.

Arsenal’s 5-1 surrender to Bayern Munich on 15 February was very different. In this capitulation by instalments, the fascination was macabre rather than dramatic. Having long given up on discerning signs of life, we began the post-mortem mid-match. As we pored over the entrails, the curiosity lay in the extent of the malady that had brought down the body. The same question, over and over: how could such an intelligent, deep-thinking manager preside over a hollowed-out team? How could failings so obvious to outsiders, the absence of steel and resilience, evade the judgement of the boss?

There is a saying in rugby union that forwards (the hard men) determine who wins, and the backs (the glamour boys) decide by how much. Here is a footballing equivalent: midfielders define matches, attacking players adorn them and defenders get the blame. Yet Arsenal’s players as good as vacated the midfield. It is hard to judge how well Bayern’s playmakers performed because they were operating in a vacuum; it looked like a morale-boosting training-ground drill, free from the annoying presence of opponents.

I have always been suspicious of the ­default English critique which posits that mentally fragile teams can be turned around by licensed on-field violence – a good kicking, basically. Sporting “character” takes many forms; physical assertiveness is only one dimension.

Still, it remains baffling, Wenger’s blind spot. He indulges artistry, especially the mercurial Mesut Özil, beyond the point where it serves the player. Yet he won’t protect the magicians by surrounding them with effective but down-to-earth talents. It has become a diet of collapsing soufflés.

What held back Wenger from buying the linchpin midfielder he has lacked for many years? Money is only part of the explanation. All added up, Arsenal do spend: their collective wage bill is the fourth-highest in the League. But Wenger has always been reluctant to lavish cash on a single star player, let alone a steely one. Rather two nice players than one great one.

The power of habit has become debilitating. Like a wealthy but conservative shopper who keeps going back to the same clothes shop, Wenger habituates the same strata of the transfer market. When he can’t get what he needs, he’s happy to come back home with something he’s already got, ­usually an elegant midfielder, tidy passer, gets bounced in big games, prone to going missing. Another button-down blue shirt for a drawer that is well stuffed.

It is almost universally accepted that, as a business, Arsenal are England’s leading club. Where their rivals rely on bailouts from oligarchs or highly leveraged debt, Arsenal took tough choices early and now appear financially secure – helped by their manager’s ability to engineer qualification for the Champions League every season while avoiding excessive transfer costs. Does that count for anything?

After the financial crisis, I had a revealing conversation with the owner of a private bank that had sailed through the turmoil. Being cautious and Swiss, he explained, he had always kept more capital reserves than the norm. As a result, the bank had made less money in boom years. “If I’d been a normal chief executive, I’d have been fired by the board,” he said. Instead, when the economic winds turned, he was much better placed than more bullish rivals. As a competitive strategy, his winning hand was only laid bare by the arrival of harder times.

In football, however, the crash never came. We all wrote that football’s insane spending couldn’t go on but the pace has only quickened. Even the Premier League’s bosses confessed to being surprised by the last extravagant round of television deals – the cash that eventually flows into the hands of managers and then the pockets of players and their agents.

By refusing to splash out on the players he needed, whatever the cost, Wenger was hedged for a downturn that never arrived.

What an irony it would be if football’s bust comes after he has departed. Imagine the scenario. The oligarchs move on, finding fresh ways of achieving fame, respectability and the protection achieved by entering the English establishment. The clubs loaded with debt are forced to cut their spending. Arsenal, benefiting from their solid business model, sail into an outright lead, mopping up star talent and trophies all round.

It’s often said that Wenger – early to invest in data analytics and worldwide scouts; a pioneer of player fitness and lifestyle – was overtaken by imitators. There is a second dimension to the question of time and circumstance. He helped to create and build Arsenal’s off-field robustness, even though football’s crazy economics haven’t yet proved its underlying value.

If the wind turns, Arsène Wenger may face a frustrating legacy: yesterday’s man and yet twice ahead of his time. 

Ed Smith is a journalist and author, most recently of Luck. He is a former professional cricketer and played for both Middlesex and England.

This article first appeared in the 24 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The world after Brexit