Start the world, we want to get on

The Copenhagen debacle gave little grounds for hope of concerted action against climate change, but

The climate-change meetings in Copenhagen proved something of a fiasco. The global nature of those December talks, with representatives attending from 192 countries - including many heads of state - certainly indicated that the world is taking climate change seriously. Yet the bickering that occurred between nations and groups of nations undermined the idea that humanity is coming together to take a stand against its risks. The Copenhagen Accord, the only tangible result of the 12-day event, is a slim document, put together by a handful of countries, to which states will sign up in a voluntary way.

Nations deciding to commit to the accord were supposed to have set out plans for reducing their greenhouse-gas emissions by 31 January. That deadline has since been "softened". A number of countries have submitted their promises for cutting carbon emissions, but these are generally seen as inadequate. At a meeting in New Delhi on 24 January, four of the five originators of the document (China, India, Brazil and South Africa) announced their intention to continue to support it, but only on condition that it will never become a treaty - that is, have binding force in international law. The current position of the United States, the other country that created the accord, is murky, as the proposed US climate change bill has not been endorsed by Congress and perhaps never will be, given the domestic difficulties President Obama faces.

So, will the accord lead to real action on a scale commensurate with the huge task involved? Obviously, it could founder. We shall have to wait and see, but I think it is a new beginning of potential importance. I was never much in fav­our of the Kyoto/Copenhagen-style approach, which was too slow-moving and bureaucratic to make the impact needed. If the accord does progress, it will be driven by a smaller group of countries. But that group is likely to include all the big polluters and, just as important, will probably cross-cut the divide between developed and developing countries, the prime source of acrimony at Copenhagen.

The accord therefore could provide a linchpin for emissions reductions, but we have to think and act on a broader scale, too. Copenhagen was not a singular event: its failure expresses deep-seated problems of global governance. We live in a far more interdependent world than any previous generation, and climate change is the negative expression of that interdependence. Yet the institutions of transnational governance have not advanced in tandem. The UN is regularly paralysed by the very divisions that sank the hopes entertained at Copenhagen.

I cut, you cut

Here are some of the points and problems that governments and other agencies should be thinking about and acting upon, whatever happens to the accord.

First, the various groups of countries should work with each other informally to make pro­gress in cutting emissions. Sixteen countries account for well over 80 per cent of total world emissions and they should be meeting in a regular way. That it was George W Bush who originally made this proposal shouldn't put us off what is a necessary idea post-Copenhagen.

Second, a G2 - the US and China working together (see box) - is an essential part of global policy, as these two nations alone contribute such a high proportion of emissions. It isn't likely to be an easy relationship, but the rest of the world has a stake in its effectiveness and should encourage such collaboration. There should also be a climate-change G3, involving the European Union. The EU was sidelined at Copenhagen when the accord was drawn up - a terrible rejection for an organisation that aspires to world leadership in this area. One chief reason was the usual difficulty - that the EU does not speak with one voice. A single person should represent the Union at future climate-change negotiations: either the new high representative for foreign affairs, Cathy Ashton, or someone specifically appointed for the task.

Third, close connections need to be drawn between emerging regulation of the world financial system and world climate-change policy. The G20, whose emergence is one of the most positive aspects of recent developments in global governance, is the obvious forum for exploring such overlaps. A transnational tax on financial transactions no longer looks as implausible as it did even a couple of years ago; in the medium term it could supply the means to help the poorer countries cope with climate change. The accord promises a fund for this purpose, building up to £100bn a year. If it is forthcoming, we will need to find ways to monitor how it is spent, because its sole purpose will be to help developing countries either to reduce their emissions or to adapt to the consequences of climate change. The existing conduit for channelling money to poorer countries, the Clean Development Mechanism, has made little impact in either respect.

The UN's role

Federal policy on climate change in the United States will now be weak at best. Yet the US is a diverse society, and other groups can help fill the void. Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger of California has proposed that cities, states, provinces and regions work together to meet the challenge. The R20 group he established in 2009 has had considerable success in getting such groups to sign the pledge to reduce emissions by at least 20 per cent below those of 2005 by 2020. Activism at the sub-national level will play a vital role across the world, and some means should be found of giving NGOs a formal position in climate-change bargaining.

Finally, we must rethink the role of the United Nations. The UN's core weaknesses were laid bare in Copenhagen. Proceeding by full consensus simply isn't possible with issues where there are abiding differences of interest between countries. Most of the real action will now happen elsewhere. Yet, weak though it is at making decisions, the UN is in some respects irreplaceable. Whatever comes from the accord can't be left to the participating countries to monitor. We need a global regime, for example, to assess states' emissions and to track their progress. The logical home for any agency set up to carry out such work is the UN. Its participation is the best guarantee of impartiality.

The Copenhagen debacle could lead to a period of quiescence in which not much is done to pursue climate-change policy. But I don't think this is what will happen. We stand on the verge of profound change. The social and economic system created by the fusion of political and industrial revolution in Europe and North America, now becoming globalised, is starting to subvert itself. The dangers posed by climate change are the most far-reaching expressions of this, but we face much broader issues of sustainability. Whatever happens with formal agreements, we can anticipate a burst of innovation - economic, social, political and technological - over the coming decade and beyond.

Anthony Giddens is a Labour peer and the author of "The Politics of Climate Change" (Polity Press, £12.99)

This article first appeared in the 08 February 2010 issue of the New Statesman, Nightmare on Cameron Street

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The humbling of Theresa May

The Prime Minister has lost all authority. The Tories will remove her as soon as they feel the time is right.

Being politicians of unsentimental, ruthless realism, the Conservatives did not linger in the grief stage of their collective disaster after the general election. Disbelief, too, was commendably brief.

Currently, their priority is to impose some sort of order on themselves. This is the necessary prelude to the wholesale change that most see as the next phase in their attempt at recovery, which they all know is essential to their career prospects – and believe is vital to a country whose alternative prime minister is Jeremy Corbyn.

For that reason, talk of Theresa May enduring as Prime Minister until the end of the Brexit negotiations in two years’ time is the preserve of just a few wishful thinkers. Some sort of calm is being established but the party is far from settled or united; there is a widespread conviction that it cannot be so under the present leader.

Elements of the great change have been executed, as Nick Timothy and Fiona Hill, May’s former advisers, will testify.

However, this is only beginning, as shown by the debate in the media about how long May can survive in Downing Street. There is dissatisfaction about elements of her recent reshuffle, but it is quieted because few believe that some of the more contentious appointments or reappointments will last more than a matter of months. Her colleagues are also alarmed by the meal she has made of doing what was supposed to be a straightforward deal with the DUP.

The climate in the party at the moment is one in which everything – jobs, policies and, of course, the leadership – will soon be up for grabs. Debate over “hard” and “soft” Brexits is illusory: anyone who wants to be Conservative leader will need to respect the view of the party in the country, which is that Britain must leave the single market and the customs union to regain control of trade policy and borders. That is one reason why the prospects of David Davis, the Brexit Secretary, are being talked up.

Some of May’s MPs, for all their hard-mindedness about the future, speak of feeling “poleaxed” since the general election. Even before the result changed everything, there was dismay about the bad national campaign; but that, it was felt, could be discussed in a leisurely post-mortem.

Now, instead, it has undermined faith in May’s leadership and credibility. “The social care disaster was key to our defeat,” an MP told me. “It wasn’t just that the policy damaged our core vote, it was the amateurishness of the U-turn.” A more seasoned colleague noted that “it was the first election I’ve fought where we succeeded in pissing off every section of our core vote”.

The limited ministerial reshuffle was inevitable given May’s lack of authority, and summed up her untenability beyond the short term. Most of her few important changes were deeply ill judged: notably the sacking of the skills and apprenticeships minister Robert Halfon, the MP for Harlow in Essex, and a rare Tory with a direct line to the working class; and the Brexit minister David Jones, whose job had hardly begun and whose boss, Davis, was not consulted.

George Bridges, another Brexit minister, who resigned, apparently did so because he felt May had undermined the government’s position in the negotiations so badly, by failing to win the election comprehensively, that he could not face going on.

Much has been made of how Philip Hammond, the Chancellor, was marginalised and briefed against, yet reappointed. Patrick McLoughlin, the party chairman, suffered similarly. Conservative Central Office was largely shut out from the catastrophic campaign, though no one got round to briefing against McLoughlin, who kept his head down – unheard-of conduct by a party chairman in an election.

As a political force, Central Office is for now more or less impotent. It has lost the knack of arguing the case for Conservatism. MPs are increasingly worried that their party is so introspective that it just can’t deal with the way Corbyn is spinning his defeat. “An ugly mood is growing,” one said, “because militant leftism is going unchallenged.” That cannot change until May has gone and the party machine is revived and re-inspired.

***

Nobody in the party wants a general election: but most want a leadership election, and minds are concentrated on how to achieve the latter without precipitating the former. One angry and disillusioned ex-minister told me that “if there were an obvious candidate she’d be shitting herself. But most of us have realised Boris is a wanker, DD isn’t a great communicator and is a bit up himself, Hammond has no charisma, and Amber [Rudd] has a majority of 346.”

On Monday a group of senior ex-ministers met at Westminster to discuss next steps. It was agreed that, with the Brexit talks under way, the most important thing in the interests of restoring order was securing the vote on the Queen’s Speech. Then, May having done her duty and steadied the proverbial ship, the party would manage her dignified and calm evacuation from Downing Street.

Those who agree on this do not always agree on the timing. However, few can make the leap of imagination required to see her addressing the party conference in October, unless to say “Thank you and goodnight” and to initiate a leadership contest. Many would like her out long before then. The only reason they don’t want it this side of securing the Queen’s Speech is that the result, as one put it, would be “chaos”, with a leadership contest resembling “a circular firing squad”.

That metaphor is popular among Tories these days. Others use it to describe the ­apportioning of blame after the election. As well as Timothy and Hill, Lynton Crosby has sustained severe wounds that may prevent the Tories from automatically requesting his services again.

Following the Brexit referendum and Zac Goldsmith’s nasty campaign for the London mayoralty, Crosby has acquired the habit of losing. And then there was Ben Gummer, blamed not only for the social care debacle, but also for upsetting fishermen with a vaguely couched fisheries policy. These failings are becoming ancient history – and the future, not the past, is now the urgent matter – yet some Conservatives still seethe about them despite trying to move on.

“I haven’t heard anyone say she should stay – except Damian Green,” a former minister observed, referring to the new First Secretary of State. Green was at Oxford with May and seems to have earned his job because he is one of her rare friends in high politics. He is regarded as sharing her general lack of conviction.

Older activists recall how the party, in 1974, clung loyally to Ted Heath after he lost one election, and even after he lost a second. Now, deference is over. Most Tory activists, appalled by the handling of the campaign, want change. They would, however, like a contest: annoyed at not having been consulted last time, they intend not to be left silent again.

That view is largely reflected at Westminster, though a few MPs believe a coronation wouldn’t be a problem, “as we don’t want a public examination of the entrails for weeks on end when we need to be shown to be running the country effectively”. Most MPs disagree with that, seeing where a coronation got them last time.

With the summer recess coming up, at least the public’s attention would not be on Westminster if the contest took place mostly during that time: hence the feeling that, once the Queen’s Speech is dealt with, May should announce her intention to leave, in order to have a successor in place before the conference season. It is then up to the party to design a timetable that compresses the hustings between the final two candidates into as short a time as compatible with the democratic process, to get the new leader in place swiftly.

Some letters requesting a contest are said to have reached Graham Brady, the chairman of the 1922 Committee of backbenchers. One MP told me with great authority that there were eight; another, with equal certainty, said 12. Forty-eight are needed to trigger the procedure. However, engineering such a contest is not how most Tories would like to proceed. “She has had an international humiliation,” a former cabinet minister said, “and it is transparently ghastly for her. Then came the [Grenfell Tower] fire. There is no sense our rubbing it in. I suspect she knows she has to go. We admire her for staying around and clearing up the mess in a way Cameron didn’t. But she is a stopgap.”

MPs believe, with some justification, that the last thing most voters want is another general election, so caution is paramount. None doubts that the best outcome for all concerned would be for May to leave without being pushed.

Her tin-eared response to the Grenfell disaster shocked colleagues with its amateurishness and disconnection. “I’m sure she’s very upset by Grenfell,” someone who has known her since Oxford said. “But she is incapable of showing empathy. She has no bridge to the rest of the world other than Philip.” Another, referring to the controversial remark that torpedoed Andrea Leadsom’s leadership ambitions last year, said: “You would get shot for saying it, but not having had children hasn’t helped her when it comes to relating to people. Leadsom was right.”

***

May was quicker off the mark on Monday, issuing a statement condemning the appalling attack at Finsbury Park Mosque swiftly after it occurred, and going there shortly afterwards to meet community leaders. No one could fault her assurance that Muslims must enjoy the same protection under the law as everyone else, or the speed and sincerity with which it was made. She is learning what leadership entails, but too late.

Her administration has become unlucky. This happened to John Major, but, as in his case, the bad luck is partly down to bad decisions; and the bad luck that comes out of the blue simply piles in on top of everything else. Grenfell Tower, lethal and heartbreaking for its victims and their families, was merely more bad luck for the Prime Minister because of her slow-witted response and failure – presumably because shorn of her closest advisers – to do the right thing, and to do it quickly.

But then it turned out that her new chief of staff, Gavin Barwell, had in his previous incarnation as a housing minister received a report on improving fire safety in tower blocks and done nothing about it. That is either more bad luck, or it shows May has dismal judgement in the quality of people she appoints to her close circle. Form suggests the latter.

The idea aired last weekend, that May had “ten days to prove herself”, was a minority view. For most of her colleagues it is too late. It was typical of Boris Johnson’s dwindling band of cheerleaders that they should broadcast a story supporting Davis as an “interim” leader: “interim” until Johnson’s credibility has recovered sufficiently for him to have another pop at the job he covets so much.

They also sought to create the impression that Davis is on manoeuvres, which he resolutely is not. Davis has been around long enough to know that if he wants to succeed May – and his friends believe he does – he cannot be seen to do anything to destabilise her further. It is a lesson lost on Johnson’s camp, whose tactics have damaged their man even more than he was already.

Andrew Mitchell, the former international development secretary and a close ally of Davis, told the Guardian: “. . . it is simply untrue that he is doing anything other
than focusing on his incredibly important brief and giving loyal support to the Prime Minister. Anyone suggesting otherwise is freelancing.” That summed up the contempt Davis’s camp has for Johnson, and it will last long beyond any leadership race.

There is a sense that, in the present febrile climate, whoever is the next leader must be highly experienced. Davis qualifies; so does Hammond, who before his present job was foreign secretary and defence secretary, and who has belatedly displayed a mind of his own since May was hobbled. Hugo Swire, a minister of state under Hammond in the Foreign Office, said of him: “He’s got bottom. He was very good to work for. He is an homme sérieux. I liked him very much and he would calm things down.”

But, as yet, there is no contest. Calls for calm have prevailed, not least thanks to Graham Brady’s steady stewardship of the 1922 Committee, and his success in convincing the more hot-headed of his colleagues to hold their fire. Yet MPs say the 1922 is not what it was 20 years ago: ministers have become used to taking it less seriously.

However, many MPs expect Brady, at a time of their choosing, to go to Downing Street and deliver the poison pill to Theresa May if she is slow to go. Some who know her fear she might take no notice. If she were to play it that way, her end would be unpleasant. As the old saying goes, there is the easy way, and there is the hard way. Remarkably few of her colleagues want to go the hard way but, like everything else in the Tory party at the moment, that could change.

Simon Heffer is a journalist, author and political commentator, who has worked for long stretches at the Daily Telegraph and the Daily Mail. He has written biographies of Thomas Carlyle, Ralph Vaughan Williams and Enoch Powell, and reviews and writes on politics for the New Statesman

This article first appeared in the 22 June 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The zombie PM

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