Labour turns its guns on Osborne's infrastructure failures

New figures show that just seven of the 576 infrastructure projects planned by the coalition have been completed.

When Nick Clegg recently conceded that the coalition had cut infrastructure spending too fast after coming to power, he took care to assure us that all was now well. "I think we've all realised that you actually need, in order to foster a recovery, to try and mobilise as much public and private capital into infrastructure as possible," the Deputy PM said. 

While one welcomes the government's belated conversion to the merits of counter-cyclical spending (a rare concession to its Keynesian critics), the early results are not encouraging. Labour will use an opposition debate today to highlight new Treasury figures showing that just seven (1.2 per cent) of the 576 infrastructure projects planned by the coalition are "completed" or "operational" and that most of these are road schemes began under the last government. In addition, just 18.2 per cent of the projects are said to have "started" or to be "in construction" or "under construction".  

Clegg himself has previously expressed frustration over the timelag between projects being announced and completed. He remarked in a speech to the LSE in September 2011: "A key blockage is actually within government: Whitehall. Identifying projects and funnelling cash to them can take time – I understand that. These are big investments, and you have to get the detail right. But failure to deliver major infrastructure projects on time and on budget is a perennial problem in the UK."

The government's failure to improve its performance on this front is a matter of concern to the Lib Dems, with some blaming George Osborne's preference for Treasury "guarantees" over direct spending. In her column today, the Times's Rachel Sylvester reports that "Clegg and other senior Lib Dems are convinced that the Government needs to loosen the public purse strings and spend even more on infrastructure to stimulate the economy". 

After Clegg claimed that the coalition's capital spending cuts were "no more than what Alistair Darling spelt out anyway", Labour will also point to OBR figures (see below) showing that the government has spent £12.8bn less than Darling planned. 

Year

Public Sector Gross Investment - OBR forecast of Labour plans

Public Sector Gross Investment under the Conservative-led government

Difference

2010-11

£61.3bn

£58.1bn

£-3.2bn

2011-12

£50.7bn

£47.8bn

£-2.9bn

2012-13

£48.4bn

£41.7bn

£-6.7bn

The last time Rachel Reeves cited these figures, George Osborne accused her of "not being completely straight", a remark which earned him a rebuke from the Speaker. 

But even if one discounts the numbers for 2012-13 (which is still ongoing), the data shows that the coalition spent £6.1bn less in its first two years than Labour would have. Little wonder that the Lib Dems are urging Osborne to finally loosen the fiscal taps.

Shadow chancellor Ed Balls visits a social housing project with shadow chief secretary to the Treasury Rachel Reeves. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

Photo: Getty
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We argue over Charlie Gard, but forget those spending whole lives caring for a disabled child

The everyday misery of care work is hidden behind abstract arguments over life and death.

“Sometimes,” says the mother, “I wish we’d let him go. Or that he’d just been allowed to slip away.” The father agrees, sometimes. So too does the child, who is not a child any more.

On good days, nobody thinks this way, but not all days are good. There have been bright spots during the course of the past four decades, occasional moments of real hope, but now everyone is tired, everyone is old and the mundane work of loving takes a ferocious toll.

When we talk about caring for sick children, we usually mean minors. It’s easiest that way. That for some parents, the exhaustion and intensity of those first days with a newborn never, ever ends – that you can be in your fifties, sixties, seventies, caring for a child in their twenties, thirties, forties – is not something the rest of us want to think about.

It’s hard to romanticise devotion strung out over that many hopeless, sleepless nights. Better to imagine the tragic mother holding on to the infant who still fits in her loving arms, not the son who’s now twice her size, himself edging towards middle-age and the cliff edge that comes when mummy’s no longer around.

Writing on the tragic case of Charlie Gard, the Guardian’s Giles Fraser claims that he would “rain fire on the whole world to hold my child for a day longer”. The Gard case, he argues, has “set the cool rational compassion of judicial judgement and clinical expertise against the passion of parental love”: “Which is why those who have never smelled the specific perfume of Charlie’s neck, those who have never held him tight or wept and prayed over his welfare, are deemed better placed to determine how he is to live and die.”

This may be true. It may also be true that right now, countless parents who have smelled their own child’s specific perfume, held them tightly, wept for them, loved them beyond all measure, are wishing only for that child’s suffering to end. What of their love? What of their reluctance to set the world aflame for one day more? And what of their need for a life of their own, away from the fantasies of those who’ll passionately defend a parent’s right to keep their child alive but won’t be there at 5am, night after night, cleaning out feeding tubes and mopping up shit?

Parental – in particular, maternal – devotion is seen as an endlessly renewable resource. A real parent never gets tired of loving. A real parent never wonders whether actually, all things considered, it might have caused less suffering for a child never to have been born at all. Such thoughts are impermissible, not least because they’re dangerous. Everyone’s life matters. Nonetheless, there are parents who have these thoughts, not because they don’t love their children, but because they do.

Reporting on the Gard case reminds me of the sanitised image we have of what constitutes the life of a parent of a sick child. It’s impossible not to feel enormous compassion for Charlie’s parents. As the mother of a toddler, I know that in a similar situation I’d have been torn apart. It’s not difficult to look at photos of Charlie and imagine one’s own child in his place. All babies are small and helpless; all babies cry out to be held.

But attitudes change as children get older. In the case of my own family, I noticed a real dropping away of support for my parents and disabled brother as the latter moved into adulthood. There were people who briefly picked him up as a kind of project and then, upon realising that there would be no schmaltzy ending to the story, dropped him again. Love and compassion don’t conquer all, patience runs out and dignity is clearly best respected from a distance.

All too often, the everyday misery of care work is hidden behind abstract arguments over who gets the right to decide whether an individual lives or dies. I don’t know any parents who truly want that right. Not only would it be morally untenable, it’s also a misrepresentation of what their struggles really are and mean.

What many parents who remain lifelong carers need is adequate respite support, a space in which to talk honestly, and the recognition that actually, sometimes loving is a grim and hopeless pursuit. Those who romanticise parental love – who, like Fraser, wallow in heroic portrayals of “battling, devoted parents” – do nothing to alleviate the suffering of those whose love mingles with resentment, exhaustion and sheer loneliness.

There are parents out there who, just occasionally, would be willing to set the world on fire to have a day’s respite from loving. But regardless of whether your child lives or dies, love never ends. 

Glosswitch is a feminist mother of three who works in publishing.