Is Chris Grayling running scared of Margaret Hodge?

Justice Secretary accuses the chair of the Public Accounts Committee of "political grandstanding" after her committee described the performance of the Work Programme as "extremely poor".

Margaret Hodge, the redoubtable chair of the Public Accounts Committee, appears to have touched a nerve. In an interview on BBC Radio 5 Live Pienaar's Politics last night, the Justice Secretary, Chris Grayling, accused the Labour MP of "political grandstanding" and of failing to take "a proper and dispassionate view of her job".

It's unusual, perhaps even unprecedented, to hear such strident criticism of a select committee chair from a minister, so what could have provoked Grayling's ire? The answer is last month's Public Accounts Committee report on the Work Programme, for which he was responsible while employment minister. The scheme's performance was described by the committee (which has a Conservative majority) as "extremely poor", with only 3.6 per cent of claimants moved off benefits and into sustained employment. 

This success rate was less than a third of the DWP target of 11.9 per cent and even below the official estimate of what would have happened if the programme had never existed, prompting the famous claim that it was "worse than doing nothing". Not one of the 18 providers, such as A4e, Ingeus, REED and G4S, managed to meet its minimum performance targets, with the best provider moving five per cent of claimants into work and the worst moving just two per cent. 

And it is those most in need of help who are failing to get it. As Hodge noted, "of the 9,500 former incapacity benefit claimants referred to providers, only 20 people have been placed in a job that has lasted three months, while the poorest performing provider did not manage to place a single person in the under 25 category into a job lasting six months." Given the extent of the failure, Grayling was warned that there is a high risk of one or more of the providers going bust, or having its contract cancelled. "The Department must identify cases where a provider is at risk of failing and ensure there are specific plans in place to deal with this," the MPs said. 

Confronted by these uncomfortable truths, it's unsurprising that Grayling feels the need to lash out. But his discomfort is merely evidence that Hodge is doing her job: holding the executive to account for their use of taxpayers' money. While Grayling claims that the scheme, which pays providers by results, represents better value for money than the last government's Future Jobs Fund, this claim rests on a generous interpretation of the data. 

Ministers boast that the cost of every job secured under the Work Programme is just over £2,000, compared with a cost of almost £7,500 under Labour's scheme. But as Alex has previously noted, this takes no account of the fact that had the programme not existed, there would have been an extra 14,000 jobs created. As he concluded after crunching the numbers, "the Work Programme did not cost £2,000 per job. Instead, for every £4,600 it spent, it destroyed one participant's chance of employment."

The government points out that the orginal performance targets were set when growth was expected to be significantly higher than it is now. But given that the IMF, the National Institute of Economic and Social Research and others argue that the excessive pace of austerity is at least partly to blame for this, it's not clear why it regards this a legitimate excuse.

Rather than impugning Hodge's integrity, Grayling would do better to develop a Work Programme that actually works. 

Margaret Hodge, the Labour MP for Barking and the chair of the Public Accounts Committee. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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What Donald Trump could learn from Ronald Reagan

Reagan’s candidacy was built on more than his celebrity. Trump not only lacks experience as an elected official, he isn’t part of any organised political movement.

“No one remembers who came in second.” That wisdom, frequently dispensed by the US presidential candidate Donald Trump, came back to haunt him this week. Trump’s loss in the Iowa Republican caucuses to the Texas senator Ted Cruz, barely beating Senator Marco Rubio of Florida for second place, was the first crack in a campaign that has defied all expectations.

It has been a campaign built on Trump’s celebrity. Over the past eight months, his broad name recognition, larger-than-life personality and media savvy have produced a theatrical candidacy that has transfixed even those he repels. The question now is whether that celebrity will be enough – whether a man so obsessed with being “Number One” can bounce back from defeat.

Iowa isn’t everything, after all. It didn’t back the eventual Republican nominee in 2008 or 2012. Nor, for that matter, in 1980, when another “celebrity” candidate was in the mix. That was the year Iowa picked George H W Bush over Ronald Reagan – the former actor whom seasoned journalists dismissed as much for his right-wing views as for his “B-movie” repertoire. But Reagan regrouped, romped to victory in the New Hampshire primary and rode a wave of popular support all the way to the White House.

Trump might hope to replicate that success and has made a point of pushing the Reagan analogy more generally. Yet it is a comparison that exposes Trump’s weaknesses and his strengths.

Both men were once Democrats who came later in life to the Republican Party, projecting toughness, certainty and unabashed patriotism. Trump has even adopted Reagan’s 1980 campaign promise to “make America great again”. Like Reagan, he has shown he can appeal to evangelicals despite question marks over his religious conviction and divorces. In his ability to deflect criticism, too, Trump has shown himself as adept as Reagan – if by defiance rather than by charm – and redefined what it means to be “Teflon” in the age of Twitter.

That defiance, however, points to a huge difference in tone between Reagan’s candidacy and Trump’s. Reagan’s vision was a positive, optimistic one, even as he castigated “big government” and the perceived decline of US power. Reagan’s America was meant to be “a city upon a hill” offering a shining example of liberty to the world – in rhetoric at least. Trump’s vision is of an America closed off from the world. His rhetoric invokes fear as often as it does freedom.

On a personal level, Reagan avoided the vituperative attacks that have been the hallmark of Trump’s campaign, even as he took on the then“establishment” of the Republican Party – a moderate, urban, east coast elite. In his first run for the nomination, in 1976, Reagan even challenged an incumbent Republican president, Gerald Ford, and came close to defeating him. But he mounted the challenge on policy grounds, advocating the so-called “Eleventh Commandment”: “Thou shalt not speak ill of any fellow Republican.” Trump, as the TV debates between the Republican presidential candidates made clear, does not subscribe to the same precept.

More importantly, Reagan in 1976 and 1980 was the leader of a resurgent conservative movement, with deep wells of political experience. He had been president of the Screen Actors Guild in the late 1940s, waging a campaign to root out communist infiltrators. He had gone on to work for General Electric in the 1950s as a TV pitchman and after-dinner speaker, honing a business message that resonated beyond the “rubber chicken circuit”.

In 1964 he grabbed headlines with a televised speech on behalf of the Republican presidential candidate, Barry Goldwater – a bright spot in Goldwater’s otherwise ignominious campaign. Two years later he was elected governor of California – serving for eight years as chief executive of the nation’s most populous state. He built a conservative record on welfare reform, law and order, and business regulation that he pushed on to the federal agenda when he ran for president.

All this is to say that Reagan’s candidacy was built on more than his celebrity. By contrast, Trump not only lacks experience as an elected official, he isn’t part of any organised political movement – which enhanced his “outsider” status, perhaps, but not his ground game. So far, he has run on opportunism, tapping in to popular frustration, channelled through a media megaphone.

In Iowa, this wasn’t enough. To win the nomination he will have to do much more to build his organisation. He will be hoping that in the primaries to come, voters do remember who came in second. 

This article first appeared in the 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war