Grant Shapps should give Obama his campaign line back

The Conservative chairman borrows Obama's "don't give them the keys back" line. But it's his party that crashed the car again.

It's well known that most Conservative cabinet ministers supported Barack Obama's re-election and in an interview in today's Independent, Tory chairman Grant Shapps borrows one of the US president's favourite campaign lines.

Shapps tells the paper: "We are in a global race. Britain is on the right track, don't go back. Don't give the keys to the guys who crashed the car in the first place. Do you want to go through all this pain again?"

Obama told a Democratic fundraiser in May 2010: "So after they drove the car into the ditch, made it as difficult as possible for us to pull it back, now they want the keys back.  No! You can’t drive! We don't want to have to go back into the ditch! We just got the car out! We just got the car out!" He used the analogy again at a labour day rally in Milwaukee in September of that year.

It's a good line, but unfortunately for Shapps it's not one the Conservatives have any right to use. While the US economy enjoyed a sustained recovery under Obama (with 13 consecutive quarters of growth), the UK fell into a double-dip recession (and is at risk of a triple-dip). To adapt Obama's analogy, the Tories didn't drive the car out of the ditch; they drove it back in (you could call it a double-ditch recession).

When Labour left office, the economy was recovering, with growth of 0.4 per cent in Q3 of 2009, 0.4 per cent in Q4, 0.6 per cent in Q1 of 2010 and 0.7 per cent in Q2 (see this table for the full data). Since then, it has stagnated. Over the last year, the US economy has grown by 2.3 per cent, while the UK hasn't grown at all. As a result, while the US economy is now 2.3 per cent above its pre-recession peak, the UK remains 3.1 per cent below.

If and when Shapps's party boasts a comparable record, he might be entitled to borrow Obama's line. But until then, he should gracefully return it to its original owner.

Conservative chairman Grant Shapps speaks at the party's conference in Birmingham last year. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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Is there such a thing as responsible betting?

Punters are encouraged to bet responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly.

I try not to watch the commercials between matches, or the studio discussions, or anything really, before or after, except for the match itself. And yet there is one person I never manage to escape properly – Ray Winstone. His cracked face, his mesmerising voice, his endlessly repeated spiel follow me across the room as I escape for the lav, the kitchen, the drinks cupboard.

I’m not sure which betting company he is shouting about, there are just so many of them, offering incredible odds and supposedly free bets. In the past six years, since the laws changed, TV betting adverts have increased by 600 per cent, all offering amazingly simple ways to lose money with just one tap on a smartphone.

The one I hate is the ad for BetVictor. The man who has been fronting it, appearing at windows or on roofs, who I assume is Victor, is just so slimy and horrible.

Betting firms are the ultimate football parasites, second in wealth only to kit manufacturers. They have perfected the capitalist’s art of using OPM (Other People’s Money). They’re not directly involved in football – say, in training or managing – yet they make millions off the back of its popularity. Many of the firms are based offshore in Gibraltar.

Football betting is not new. In the Fifties, my job every week at five o’clock was to sit beside my father’s bed, where he lay paralysed with MS, and write down the football results as they were read out on Sports Report. I had not to breathe, make silly remarks or guess the score. By the inflection in the announcer’s voice you could tell if it was an away win.

Earlier in the week I had filled in his Treble Chance on the Littlewoods pools. The “treble” part was because you had three chances: three points if the game you picked was a score draw, two for a goalless draw and one point for a home or away win. You chose eight games and had to reach 24 points, or as near as possible, then you were in the money.

“Not a damn sausage,” my father would say every week, once I’d marked and handed him back his predictions. He never did win a sausage.

Football pools began in the 1920s, the main ones being Littlewoods and Vernons, both based in Liverpool. They gave employment to thousands of bright young women who checked the results and sang in company choirs in their spare time. Each firm spent millions on advertising. In 1935, Littlewoods flew an aeroplane over London with a banner saying: Littlewoods Above All!

Postwar, they blossomed again, taking in £50m a year. The nation stopped at five on a Saturday to hear the scores, whether they were interested in football or not, hoping to get rich. BBC Sports Report began in 1948 with John Webster reading the results. James Alexander Gordon took over in 1974 – a voice soon familiar throughout the land.

These past few decades, football pools have been left behind, old-fashioned, low-tech, replaced by online betting using smartphones. The betting industry has totally rebooted itself. You can bet while the match is still on, trying to predict who will get the next goal, the next corner, the next throw-in. I made the last one up, but in theory you can bet instantly, on anything, at any time.

The soft sell is interesting. With the old football pools, we knew it was a remote flutter, hoping to make some money. Today the ads imply that betting on football somehow enhances the experience, adds to the enjoyment, involves you in the game itself, hence they show lads all together, drinking and laughing and putting on bets.

At the same time, punters are encouraged to do it responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly. Responsibly and respect are now two of the most meaningless words in the football language. People have been gambling, in some form, since the beginning, watching two raindrops drip down inside the cave, lying around in Roman bathhouses playing games. All they’ve done is to change the technology. You have to respect that.

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 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war