Will the Lib Dems halt Hunt's backdoor NHS privatisation?

Health secretary promises to address "concerns" over Section 75 of the NHS bill after pressure from Lib Dems and Labour.

When the government's Health and Social Care Bill was finally passed by Parliament last year it was on the condition that GPs would not be forced to open up NHS services to private competition.

Andrew Lansley, the-then Health Secretary, told the Commons: "There is absolutely nothing in the Bill that promotes or permits the transfer of NHS activities to the private sector". In a letter to Clinical Commissioning Groups, he wrote:

I know many of you have read that you will be forced to fragment services, or put them out to tender. This is absolutely not the case. It is a fundamental principle of the Bill that you as commissioners, not the Secretary of State and not regulators – should decide when and how competition should be used to serve your patients interests. 

Having accepted Lansley's assurances, the Lib Dems granted the bill their support. But new regulations published under Section 75 of the act flatly contradict the government's promises. The guidelines state that commissioners may only award a contract without competition if they are "satisfied that the services to which the contract relates are capable of being provided only by that provider". In practice, then, GPs will be forced to open up all NHS services to private companies, regardless of the wishes of local people, with the healthcare regulator Monitor granted the power to block any "unnecessary" restriction of competition. 

Secondary legislation like this is normally nodded through parliament without debate but Labour, smelling a rat, warned that the regulations amounted to an attempt at backdoor privatisation. Jeremy Hunt, Lansley's replacment as health secretary, initially sought to dismiss the opposition's concerns. In response to a question from Jamie Reed, the shadow health minister, he declared: "Who exactly are the section-75 bogeymen [he] hates: Whizz-Kidz, who are supplying services to disabled children in Tower Hamlets? Or Mind, which is supplying psychological therapy to people in Middlesbrough?"

But after the Lib Dems joined Labour in raising concerns, Hunt has been forced to think again. Norman Lamb, the Lib Dem health minister, told his party colleague Andrew George, one of those opposed to the regulations, "We are looking at this extremely seriously. Clear assurances were given in the other place during the passage of the legislation, and it is important that they are complied with in the regulations."

In reponse, as today's Guardian reports, Hunt has made it clear that he is prepared to rewrite the new guidelines. A source tells the paper: "We are aware that there are concerns over the wording and the way it may be interpreted. We are speaking to the Lib Dem peers to make sure they are happy. We want to make sure everyone is happy."

The shadow health secretary, Andy Burnham, said in response: "The government has been caught out trying to force through privatisation of the NHS by the back door.

"This is another humiliating U-turn to add to the government list, but we believe ministers will stop at nothing to drive through their plans to put the NHS up for sale to the highest bidder."

But will this be anything other than a comestic rewrite? Ahead of the Lib Dems' spring conference next month, this is a key test of the party's nerve. 

Health Secretary Jeremy Hunt speaks at the Conservative conference in Manchester last year. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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Andy Burnham and Sadiq Khan are both slippery self-mythologisers – so why do we rate one more than the other?

Their obsessions with their childhoods have both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

Andy Burnham is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s widely seen as an unprincipled flip-flopper.

Sadiq Khan is a man whose policies and opinions seem to owe more to political expediency than they do to belief. He bangs on to the point of tedium about his own class, background and interests. As a result he’s the hugely popular mayor of London, the voice of those who’d be proud to think of themselves as the metropolitan liberal elite, and is even talked of as a possible future leader of the Labour party.

Oh, and also they were both born in 1970. So that’s a thing they have in common, too.

Why it is this approach to politics should have worked so much better for the mayor of London than the would-be mayor of Manchester is something I’ve been trying to work out for a while. There are definite parallels between Burnham’s attempts to present himself as a normal northern bloke who likes normal things like football, and Sadiq’s endless reminders that he’s a sarf London geezer whose dad drove a bus. They’ve both become punchlines; but one of these jokes, it feels to me, is told with a lot more affection than the other.

And yes, Burnham apparent tendency to switch sides, on everything from NHS privatisation to the 2015 welfare vote to the leadership of Jeremy Corbyn, has given him a reputation for slipperiness. But Sadiq’s core campaign pledge was to freeze London transport fares; everyone said it was nonsense, and true to form it was, and you’d be hard pressed to find an observer who thought this an atypical lapse on the mayor’s part. (Khan, too, has switched sides on the matter of Jeremy Corbyn.)

 And yet, he seems to get away with this, in a way that Burnham doesn’t. His low-level duplicity is factored in, and it’s hard to judge him for it because, well, it’s just what he’s like, isn’t it? For a long time, the Tory leadership’s line on London’s last mayor was “Boris is Boris”, meaning, look, we don’t trust him either, but what you gonna do? Well: Sadiq is Sadiq.

Even the names we refer to them by suggest that one of these two guys is viewed very differently from the other. I’ve instinctively slipped into referring to the mayor of London by his first name: he’s always Sadiq, not Khan, just as his predecessors were Boris and Ken. But, despite Eoin Clarke’s brief attempt to promote his 2015 leadership campaign with a twitter feed called “Labour Andy”, Burnham is still Burnham: formal, not familiar. 

I’ve a few theories to explain all this, though I’ve no idea which is correct. For a while I’ve assumed it’s about sincerity. When Sadiq Khan mentions his dad’s bus for the 257th time in a day, he does it with a wink to the audience, making a crack about the fact he won’t stop going on about it. That way, the message gets through to the punters at home who are only half listening, but the bored lobby hacks who’ve heard this routine two dozen times before feel they’re in the joke.

Burnham, it seems to me, lacks this lightness of touch: when he won’t stop banging on about the fact he grew up in the north, it feels uncomfortably like he means it. And to take yourself seriously in politics is sometimes to invite others to make jokes at your expense.

Then again, perhaps the problem is that Burnham isn’t quite sincere enough. Sadiq Khan genuinely is the son of a bus-driving immigrant: he may keep going on about it, but it is at least true. Burnham’s “just a northern lad” narrative is true, too, but excludes some crucial facts: that he went to Cambridge, and was working in Parliament aged 24. Perhaps that shouldn’t change how we interpret his story; but I fear, nonetheless, it does.

Maybe that’s not it, though: maybe I’m just another London media snob. Because Burnham did grow up at the disadvantaged end of the country, a region where, for too many people, chasing opportunities means leaving. The idea London is a city where the son of a bus driver can become mayor flatters our metropolitan self-image; the idea that a northerner who wants to build a career in politics has to head south at the earliest opportunity does the opposite. 

So if we roll our eyes when Burnham talks about the north, perhaps that reflects badly on us, not him: the opposite of northern chippiness is southern snobbery.

There’s one last possibility for why we may rate Sadiq Khan more highly than Andy Burnham: Sadiq Khan won. We can titter a little at the jokes and the fibs but he is, nonetheless, mayor of London. Andy Burnham is just the bloke who lost two Labour leadership campaigns.

At least – for now. In six weeks time, he’s highly likely to the first mayor of Greater Manchester. Slipperiness is not the worst quality in a mayor; and so much of the job will be about banging the drum for the city, and the region, that Burnham’s tendency to wear his northernness on his sleeve will be a positive boon.

Sadiq Khan’s stature has grown because the fact he became London’s mayor seems to say something, about the kind of city London is and the kind we want it to be. Perhaps, after May, Andy Burnham can do the same for the north – and the north can do the same for Andy Burnham.

Jonn Elledge edits the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric, and writes for the NS about subjects including politics, history and Daniel Hannan. You can find him on Twitter or Facebook.