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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Let's face it: supporting Spurs is basically a form of charity

Now, for my biggest donation yet . . .

I gazed in awe at the new stadium, the future home of Spurs, wondering where my treasures will go. It is going to be one of the architectural wonders of the modern world (football stadia division), yet at the same time it seems ancient, archaic, a Roman ruin, very much like an amphitheatre I once saw in Croatia. It’s at the stage in a new construction when you can see all the bones and none of the flesh, with huge tiers soaring up into the sky. You can’t tell if it’s going or coming, a past perfect ruin or a perfect future model.

It has been so annoying at White Hart Lane this past year or so, having to walk round walkways and under awnings and dodge fences and hoardings, losing all sense of direction. Millions of pounds were being poured into what appeared to be a hole in the ground. The new stadium will replace part of one end of the present one, which was built in 1898. It has been hard not to be unaware of what’s going on, continually asking ourselves, as we take our seats: did the earth move for you?

Now, at long last, you can see what will be there, when it emerges from the scaffolding in another year. Awesome, of course. And, har, har, it will hold more people than Arsenal’s new home by 1,000 (61,000, as opposed to the puny Emirates, with only 60,000). At each home game, I am thinking about the future, wondering how my treasures will fare: will they be happy there?

No, I don’t mean Harry Kane, Danny Rose and Kyle Walker – local as well as national treasures. Not many Prem teams these days can boast quite as many English persons in their ranks. I mean my treasures, stuff wot I have been collecting these past 50 years.

About ten years ago, I went to a shareholders’ meeting at White Hart Lane when the embryonic plans for the new stadium were being announced. I stood up when questions were called for and asked the chairman, Daniel Levy, about having a museum in the new stadium. I told him that Man United had made £1m the previous year from their museum. Surely Spurs should make room for one in the brave new mega-stadium – to show off our long and proud history, delight the fans and all those interested in football history and make a few bob.

He mumbled something – fluent enough, as he did go to Cambridge – but gave nothing away, like the PM caught at Prime Minister’s Questions with an unexpected question.

But now it is going to happen. The people who are designing the museum are coming from Manchester to look at my treasures. They asked for a list but I said, “No chance.” I must have 2,000 items of Spurs memorabilia. I could be dead by the time I finish listing them. They’ll have to see them, in the flesh, and then they’ll be free to take away whatever they might consider worth having in the new museum.

I’m awfully kind that way, partly because I have always looked on supporting Spurs as a form of charity. You don’t expect any reward. Nor could you expect a great deal of pleasure, these past few decades, and certainly not the other day at Liverpool when they were shite. But you do want to help them, poor things.

I have been downsizing since my wife died, and since we sold our Loweswater house, and I’m now clearing out some of my treasures. I’ve donated a very rare Wordsworth book to Dove Cottage, five letters from Beatrix Potter to the Armitt Library in Ambleside, and handwritten Beatles lyrics to the British Library. If Beckham and I don’t get a knighthood in the next honours list, I will be spitting.

My Spurs stuff includes programmes going back to 1910, plus recent stuff like the Opus book, that monster publication, about the size of a black cab. Limited editions cost £8,000 a copy in 2007. I got mine free, as I did the introduction and loaned them photographs. I will be glad to get rid of it. It’s blocking the light in my room.

Perhaps, depending on what they want, and they might take nothing, I will ask for a small pourboire in return. Two free tickets in the new stadium. For life. Or longer . . . 

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 16 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times