Over Bike-Share Schemes, The Wall Street Journal Loses the Plot

“Do not ask me to enter the mind of the totalitarians running this government.”

Following London, Paris, Montreal, Barcelona, Amsterdam, Brussels, and many, many more cities worldwide, New York City has just launched its own bikeshare program, sponsored by Citibank. The reaction to the launch has been slightly more hysterical in that city than it was in others, though. Driven by a combination of things – New York's general cycle-unfriendliness, the belief that it is a pet project of Mayor Michael Bloomberg, and the American right's depressing knee-jerk hatred of anything dubbed "environmental" – opposition to the "citibikes" has become untethered from reality and floated off into its own pocket universe. I present exhibit A, a Wall Street Journal opinion video on the topic, title "Death by Bicycle":

That's Dorothy Rabinowitz, who sits on the Wall Street Journal's editorial board, saying, with a straight face, that

Before this, every citizen knew, who was in any way sentient, that the most important danger in the city is not the yellow cabs. It is the bicyclists.

And that:

The bike lobby is an all-powerful enterprise.

And that:

Some enterprising new mayor [should undo Bloomberg's changes] and preserve our traffic patterns.

Perhaps most amazingly, she goes on a long spiel about how Taxi Drivers have signs in their cabs warning them to watch out for bikes, and complains that nobody tells cyclists the same thing, which does nothing but demonstrate that she hasn't actually seen the bikes:

The video is so unhinged that it's actually starting to reflect upon the publication itself. Rabinowitz herself is high up at the paper, and as the Atlantic's James Fallows writes:

I've always wondered how exactly to describe the temperament, the broadmindedness, the analytical subtlety, the Id that through the decades have shaped the Wall Street Journal's editorial page. Conveniently, the Journal has filled that need, via this video interview with one of its editorial board members. Henceforth when you read the Journal's editorials, I invite you to hear this voice, expression, and tone.

The Washington Post's Ezra Klein, meanwhile, says that the Journal "just ate the Onion’s lunch", while Reuters' Felix Salmon merely picks a few choice quotes to present "without comment".

In short, if high-up members of your paper's editorial board approach a bike sharing scheme as though someone had proposed to shoot their, and everyone else's, puppy, try and keep them off-camera. It only ends badly.

Photograph: Getty Images

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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Why relations between Theresa May and Philip Hammond became tense so quickly

The political imperative of controlling immigration is clashing with the economic imperative of maintaining growth. 

There is no relationship in government more important than that between the prime minister and the chancellor. When Theresa May entered No.10, she chose Philip Hammond, a dependable technocrat and long-standing ally who she had known since Oxford University. 

But relations between the pair have proved far tenser than anticipated. On Wednesday, Hammond suggested that students could be excluded from the net migration target. "We are having conversations within government about the most appropriate way to record and address net migration," he told the Treasury select committee. The Chancellor, in common with many others, has long regarded the inclusion of students as an obstacle to growth. 

The following day Hammond was publicly rebuked by No.10. "Our position on who is included in the figures has not changed, and we are categorically not reviewing whether or not students are included," a spokesman said (as I reported in advance, May believes that the public would see this move as "a fix"). 

This is not the only clash in May's first 100 days. Hammond was aggrieved by the Prime Minister's criticisms of loose monetary policy (which forced No.10 to state that it "respects the independence of the Bank of England") and is resisting tougher controls on foreign takeovers. The Chancellor has also struck a more sceptical tone on the UK's economic prospects. "It is clear to me that the British people did not vote on June 23 to become poorer," he declared in his conference speech, a signal that national prosperity must come before control of immigration. 

May and Hammond's relationship was never going to match the remarkable bond between David Cameron and George Osborne. But should relations worsen it risks becoming closer to that beween Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling. Like Hammond, Darling entered the Treasury as a calm technocrat and an ally of the PM. But the extraordinary circumstances of the financial crisis transformed him into a far more assertive figure.

In times of turmoil, there is an inevitable clash between political and economic priorities. As prime minister, Brown resisted talk of cuts for fear of the electoral consequences. But as chancellor, Darling was more concerned with the bottom line (backing a rise in VAT). By analogy, May is focused on the political imperative of controlling immigration, while Hammond is focused on the economic imperative of maintaining growth. If their relationship is to endure far tougher times they will soon need to find a middle way. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.