Labour must recognise the need for ruthless prioritisation

The party must seize control of the debate and show a bit of leg when it comes to economic policy.

 

There are three central arguments that will determine the outcome of the next election. One is over fairness, a second is over economic management, and a third over cultural affinity with the British – or more accurately the English – people.

Labour is winning the first of these hands down, but on the other two there is still a lot of spade work to do. Winning the cultural argument is perhaps the hardest. But it is on the economy that more progress must be made now if Labour is to make a genuine breakthrough.

Many observers wrongly believe that a weak economy and depressed living standards will hand Labour victory. There is nothing axiomatic about this. In fact, even if there is no economic recovery – and there may well be – this assumption is intoxicatingly complacent. No one should confuse the vicissitudes of government with the big questions that determine election outcomes.

If economic malaise continues, it is likely that in the general election campaign more questions will be asked of Labour than of the Conservatives because fear of change will dominate the psychology of the electorate. Credit downgrade, double, triple or even quadruple dip, it will not matter much. Elections are about choice.

And on the economy one question above all will define the debates – where is the money coming from? There is nothing new in this. It is an age old question, which has defined many elections. But this time, without better economic news, anxiety about debt – national and personal - will make it more potent.

To borrow from George Bernard Shaw, if Labour is unable to answer this question - we will neither find it easy to look at things as they are and ask why nor dream of things that never were and ask why not?

Ed Miliband knows this. Hence, his use of the phrase “ruthless prioritisation” in his Fabian lecture in January. It is time his party knew it.

There is a perfectly credible economic argument that the pace of cuts should be slower but whether you are a Keynesian, a Monetarist or just care about the price of a loaf of bread, it cannot be denied that there is now a need for some ruthless prioritisation.

Economics and politics sometimes pass in the night, but they rarely face in the same direction. The paradox is that the more you side with the view that cuts should be slower, the more you must reassure the electorate by demonstrating your determination to prioritise ruthlessly.

Taxing the rich more is not ruthless prioritisation, but the easy option; a habit that progressive parties should indulge in judiciously. Tax avoidance has to be tackled, but it is fiendishly difficult to raise more revenue consistently by doing so, particularly from global corporations. To deal with it effectively often requires international agreement.

Before Labour comes to a judgement on the spending envelope it needs to set out a coherent case to begin to answer the question that looms large on the horizon.

First, it must define, or rather redefine, the role of the state, and from this demonstrate how it will deliver value for money.

Old Labour believed that central government’s job was to deliver. New Labour wanted to steer not row the boat, but this too often became micro management from the centre, which stifled local initiative. One Nation Labour must let go. On housing benefit, employment programmes, and support for business, there are strong arguments for devolving certain powers to local government.

The IPPR has already made the case for some devolution of powers, but it has also articulated an excellent case for what it terms the ‘relational state.’ Fundamentally, opportunity derives from connections: who you know, not just what you know. By beginning to think about the problem in this way One Nation Labour can radically redefine the role of the state.

Here there are encouraging signs. In his recent contribution to the debate, Jon Cruddas, set out the case for both these changes in thinking.  But to make it fly Labour’s Treasury team must also sign up to this agenda.

One of Ed Miliband’s most effective themes is responsibility, from top to bottom. He should tie government into this theme, based on the responsibility of government to deliver good value for taxpayers. To make the case for this there are many reforms that should be advocated. Most of which don’t normally grab headlines, but demonstrate a real desire to be responsible with taxpayer’s money. An obvious example is the amalgamation of local government pensions, which has the potential to save billions.

Labour is beginning to think about ways to raise revenue which do not entail plucking the goose. It has to be careful not to show too much leg too soon but one idea that has far more mileage is social impact bonds, which reward investors only if certain agreed social outcomes are attained.

But even if Labour articulates these arguments well it cannot duck the need for ruthless prioritisation.  Universal provision of certain services and core universal benefits are vital to binding the nation together, but the boundaries of state provision have always fluctuated, and a debate about those boundaries, based on clear principles, should hold no fear. Certainly not for a mature party that is hungry for government.

For those who would protect everything and change nothing ask yourself how you would react if the Tories were to declare - as they are likely to do - that in the next parliament they would scrap certain pensioner benefits, such as free bus passes and the winter fuel allowance, and put the money instead into a better minimum pension, to protect the poorest?

It is far better for Labour to demonstrate strength and open up this debate now than to respond meekly when the question is put. Oppositions oppose, governments in waiting confront the challenges the nation faces.

Nick Pecorelli is associate director of The Campaign Company

Ed Miliband. Photograph: Getty Images

Nick Pecorelli is Associate Director of The Campaign Company

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The decline of the north's sporting powerhouse

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Now, things are different.

On a drive between Sheffield and Barnsley, I spotted a striking painting of the Kes poster. Billy Casper’s two-fingered salute covered the wall of a once-popular pub that is now boarded up.

It is almost 50 years since the late Barry Hines wrote A Kestrel for a Knave, the novel that inspired Ken Loach’s 1969 film, and it seems that the defiant, us-against-the-world, stick-it-to-the-man Yorkshireness he commemorated still resonates here. Almost two-thirds of the people of south Yorkshire voted to leave the EU, flicking two fingers up at what they saw as a London-based establishment, detached from life beyond the capital.

But whatever happened to Billy the unlikely lad, and the myriad other northern characters who were once the stars of stage and screen? Like the pitheads that dominated Casper’s tightly knit neighbourhood, they have disappeared from the landscape. The rot set in during the 1980s, when industries were destroyed and communities collapsed, a point eloquently made in Melvyn Bragg’s excellent radio series The Matter of the North.

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Yet today, we rarely get to hear the voices of Barnsley, Sheffield, Doncaster and Rotherham. And the Yorkshire sporting powerhouse is no more – at least, not as we once knew it.

This should be a matter of national concern. The White Rose county is, after all, the home of the world’s oldest registered football club – Sheffield FC, formed in 1857 – and the first English team to win three successive League titles, Huddersfield Town, in the mid-1920s. Hull City are now Yorkshire’s lone representative in the Premier League.

Howard Wilkinson, the manager of Leeds United when they were crowned champions in 1992, the season before the Premier League was founded, lamented the passing of a less money-obsessed era. “My dad worked at Orgreave,” he said, “the scene of Mrs Thatcher’s greatest hour, bless her. You paid for putting an axe through what is a very strong culture of community and joint responsibility.”

The best-known scene in Loach’s film shows a football match in which Mr Sugden, the PE teacher, played by Brian Glover, comically assumes the role of Bobby Charlton. It was played out on the muddy school fields of Barnsley’s run-down Athersley estate. On a visit to his alma mater a few years ago, David Bradley, who played the scrawny 15-year-old Billy, showed me the goalposts that he had swung from as a reluctant goalkeeper. “You can still see the dint in the crossbar,” he said. When I spoke to him recently, Bradley enthused about his lifelong support for Barnsley FC. “But I’ve not been to the ground over the last season and a half,” he said. “I can’t afford it.”

Bradley is not alone. Many long-standing fans have been priced out. Barnsley is only a Championship side, but for their home encounter with Newcastle last October, their fans had to pay £30 for a ticket.

The English game is rooted in the northern, working-class communities that have borne the brunt of austerity over the past six years. The top leagues – like the EU – are perceived to be out of touch and skewed in favour of the moneyed elites.

Bradley, an ardent Remainer, despaired after the Brexit vote. “They did not know what they were doing. But I can understand why. There’s still a lot of neglect, a lot of deprivation in parts of Barnsley. They feel left behind because they have been left behind.”

It is true that there has been a feel-good factor in Yorkshire following the Rio Olympics; if the county were a country, it would have finished 17th in the international medals table. Yet while millions have been invested in “podium-level athletes”, in the team games that are most relevant to the lives of most Yorkshire folk – football, cricket and rugby league – there is a clear division between sport’s elites and its grass roots. While lucrative TV deals have enriched ruling bodies and top clubs, there has been a large decrease in the number of adults playing any sport in the four years since London staged the Games.

According to figures from Sport England, there are now 67,000 fewer people in Yorkshire involved in sport than there were in 2012. In Doncaster, to take a typical post-industrial White Rose town, there has been a 13 per cent drop in participation – compared with a 0.4 per cent decline nationally.

Attendances at rugby league, the region’s “national sport”, are falling. But cricket, in theory, is thriving, with Yorkshire winning the County Championship in 2014 and 2015. Yet Joe Root, the batsman and poster boy for this renaissance, plays far more games for his country than for his county and was rested from Yorkshire’s 2016 title decider against Middlesex.

“Root’s almost not a Yorkshire player nowadays,” said Stuart Rayner, whose book The War of the White Roses chronicles the club’s fortunes between 1968 and 1986. As a fan back then, I frequently watched Geoffrey Boycott and other local stars at Headingley. My favourite was the England bowler Chris Old, a gritty, defiant, unsung anti-hero in the Billy Casper mould.

When Old made his debut, 13 of the 17-strong Yorkshire squad were registered as working-class professionals. Half a century later, three of the five Yorkshiremen selec­ted for the last Ashes series – Root, Jonny Bairstow and Gary Ballance – were privately educated. “The game of cricket now is played in public schools,” Old told me. “Top players are getting huge amounts of money, but the grass-roots game doesn’t seem to have benefited in any way.”

“In ten years’ time you won’t get a Joe Root,” Rayner said. “If you haven’t seen these top Yorkshire cricketers playing in your backyard and you haven’t got Sky, it will be difficult to get the whole cricket bug. So where is the next generation of Roots going to come from?” Or the next generation of Jessica Ennis-Hills? Three years ago, the Sheffield stadium where she trained and first discovered athletics was closed after cuts to local services.

This article first appeared in the 19 January 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The Trump era