In Florida, they're still counting

British friends intending a work or pleasure visit here have been plying me with questions: would it be better to come before Easter, or after? That, I tell them, is irrelevant. There is no impetus towards the Easter holidays as there is in Britain, and even church schools treat Good Friday and Easter Monday as normal school days. Instead, there is "spring break", a peculiarly American ritual: college students, to take one example, pour into favoured places such as Fort Lauderdale with the specific aims of getting drunk and having sex. Practically everybody here, myself included, has already had their "spring break" - and when Easter comes, it will be as unmentionable as Christmas on orders of the PC police.

Taking care to avoid all students, I went to my customary haunt in Florida last week. While Britain has had the wettest winter on record, south Florida has been experiencing perhaps its driest; stringent water restrictions, in fact, went into force last week. From the beginning of January until mid-March, only 1.57 inches of rain fell - 5.5 inches below normal.

But as my plane taxied in, the heavens opened. In the following three days, more than seven inches of rain came down in tropical sheets. But even that was not enough, and so intense was the lashing that many reservoirs overflowed into rivers. Garden companies are going out of business; police forces are appointing secret water cops to hunt down furtive middle-of-the-night hosers of gardens.

Boy George descended on the state, too, being met with hugs from Kid Brother Jeb, the Florida governor who made his brother's presidency possible. Before I left Washington, a Bushie friend berated me for hours about how "the media" would soon be saying, after their own ballot recounts, that Al Gore had really won Florida and thus the presidency - and how that would be totally wrong because "the media" are entirely communist, hate the Bushes, etc, etc.

I discovered that there are three major recounts of the ballots going on, mainly under the state's admirable "sunshine" freedom-of-information laws: one conducted by the ultra-straight National Opinion Research Center of the University of Chicago; another carried out by the accounting firm of B D O Seidman; and the third by the right-wing pressure group Judicial Watch (which is already privately claiming that Boy George actually won by a margin bigger than the 898 votes hitherto known). The Palm Beach Post has already analysed 19,125 "overvotes" on the confusing, two-page "butterfly" ballot papers in Palm Beach County - and concluded that, if voters' true intents had counted, Gore would probably have won by more than 8,000.

Although the general consensus in Florida is "Bush is now the president - get a life", the results of the recounts are causing Republicans much anxiety. Jeb is up for re-election next year, and the Democrats are considering various heavyweight candidates to oppose him - one of them Pete Peterson, a former ambassador to Vietnam who spent more than six years as a POW there. It remains a supreme irony of the way the presidency was snatched for Boy George: that Jeb, widely thought to possess a few more brain cells than Boy George, could yet become the first politically irrevocable casualty of his brother's ascendancy.

Enter Katherine Harris, aka Cruella De Vil, the head of Florida's elections as well as state co-chairwoman of the Bush 2000 campaign. Less than four months ago, she disregarded recounting and anointed Boy George as winner, insisting that the state's ramshackle hodgepodge of punch-card and other voting systems had worked just fine. With that peculiar American ability for people to reinvent themselves out of adversity, Cruella is now enjoying a new lease of life, and there is talk of her even running for the Senate next year. I discovered she was ubiquitous in Florida, trying to unveil a $200m electoral reform package that the Republicans are hoping will erase memories of the mess they made last year.

Having insisted that punch cards and optical scanning machines were perfectly acceptable voting methods to elect Boy George, Harris now declares that "the days of the punch-card ballot are over in Florida for ever". She proposes that the state spends $49m to lease new optical scanning machines for next year's elections. By 2004, she wants a $150m electronic, computerised ballot system with instructions available in different languages, and so on.

Now her package to reform the system that she said was in good order when she put Boy George in the White House has to be approved by Republicans in the state congress - and they are unlikely to pass it. But it will have shown that the Republicans tried; that is the point. "Do I think she is being sincere?" a senior state Democrat said last week. "No, I do not." Even the Florida Senate Ethics and Elections Committee has been recommending that, next time around, the state adopts a uniform ballot paper instead of the scores of hokily different ones used last year - a commonsense proposal which, given that quintessential American thirst for local autonomy, might well nevertheless not be adopted.

Kid Brother Jeb, meanwhile, has been diverting attention by pointing out that Florida has 14 daily flights from Britain - more than any other state - thus placing the state most at risk from Britain's leprous foot-and-mouth outbreak. If anybody is planning to disregard my advice and visit Florida over Easter, I must warn them not to expect to go on the famed safari tour at Busch Gardens near Tampa: all who have been in infectious Britain within the previous five days are strictly banned. Happy spring break, as it will surely be known in the UK before long.

Andrew Stephen was appointed US Editor of the New Statesman in 2001, having been its Washington correspondent and weekly columnist since 1998. He is a regular contributor to BBC news programs and to The Sunday Times Magazine. He has also written for a variety of US newspapers including The New York Times Op-Ed pages. He came to the US in 1989 to be Washington Bureau Chief of The Observer and in 1992 was made Foreign Correspondent of the Year by the American Overseas Press Club for his coverage.
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Is anyone prepared to solve the NHS funding crisis?

As long as the political taboo on raising taxes endures, the service will be in financial peril. 

It has long been clear that the NHS is in financial ill-health. But today's figures, conveniently delayed until after the Conservative conference, are still stunningly bad. The service ran a deficit of £930m between April and June (greater than the £820m recorded for the whole of the 2014/15 financial year) and is on course for a shortfall of at least £2bn this year - its worst position for a generation. 

Though often described as having been shielded from austerity, owing to its ring-fenced budget, the NHS is enduring the toughest spending settlement in its history. Since 1950, health spending has grown at an average annual rate of 4 per cent, but over the last parliament it rose by just 0.5 per cent. An ageing population, rising treatment costs and the social care crisis all mean that the NHS has to run merely to stand still. The Tories have pledged to provide £10bn more for the service but this still leaves £20bn of efficiency savings required. 

Speculation is now turning to whether George Osborne will provide an emergency injection of funds in the Autumn Statement on 25 November. But the long-term question is whether anyone is prepared to offer a sustainable solution to the crisis. Health experts argue that only a rise in general taxation (income tax, VAT, national insurance), patient charges or a hypothecated "health tax" will secure the future of a universal, high-quality service. But the political taboo against increasing taxes on all but the richest means no politician has ventured into this territory. Shadow health secretary Heidi Alexander has today called for the government to "find money urgently to get through the coming winter months". But the bigger question is whether, under Jeremy Corbyn, Labour is prepared to go beyond sticking-plaster solutions. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.