Equality campaigners divided over "wrecking" amendment to gay marriage bill

While some support the introduction of civil partnerships for heterosexuals, others warn of a "dark" and "cynical" attempt by Tory MPs to destroy the bill.

After devoting last week to an esoteric debate over Europe, this week is set to be another in which the Conservative Party demonstrates its increasingly tenuous relationship with the modern world. The gay marriage bill is back in the Commons for its report stage and David Cameron is likely to face a revolt on the scale of that in February when 136 Conservative MPs opposed the legislation.

Before the main vote tomorrow, MPs will vote tonight on an amendment tabled by former Tory minister Tim Loughton that would extend civil partnerships to heterosexual couples. Loughton, who opposes same-sex marriage, insists that the amendment has been submitted in good faith, but the government is briefing that it is an attempt to "wreck" the legislation. (It's worth pausing to note the oddity of Tory MPs opposing gay marriage, which won't "undermine" the institution of marriage, while supporting heterosexual partnerships, which certainly will.) It has warned that the change could delay the passage of the bill by up to two years and cost the government an additional £4bn in pension liabilities. On the Today programme this morning, equalities minister Maria Miller said: 

Look, I want to be seeing marriages being undertaken under this new bill as early as next summer and to actually put in at this stage such a fundamental change I believe risks that and it risks significant delay and I think those that are supporting it need to be very aware of that.

Miller's words were a warning to Labour, which has pledged to support the amendment on the grounds of equality. It has dismissed the government's warnings as "farcical", noting that the supposed size of the "price tag" has grown from £3bn to £4bn in five days. Some Labour MPs also believe that ministers may be preparing to use the passage of the amendment as a convenient excuse to abandon the bill. But other equality campaigners echo the government's concerns. 

Despite long supporting the introduction of civil partnerships for heterosexuals, the Lib Dems are set to vote against the amendment for fear that it will wreck the bill. Lynne Featherstone, the former equalities minister, said: "The people pushing these changes are not those with records of supporting equality and marriage rules that accommodate a diversity of couples.

"The proposals are coming from those who are avowed and determined opponents of equal marriage. Have they suddenly become converts to the cause of equality?

"Given their public statements I fear what is at work here is rather darker and more cynical – a deliberate attempt to wreck the legislation."

In addition, the gay rights group Stonewall has said that it is "anxious about anything that could delay this much needed change in the law to bring about marriage equality". 

But other campaigners, most notably Peter Tatchell, have urged MPs to support the amendment to correct a long standing injustice. Asked if he was concerned that Loughton and other Tory MPs were proposing it simply to "wreck" the bill, he said: "Yes, I am concerned but we should do the right thing, regardless of their shabby motives. Equality for all. You can't fault that." 

The outcome is now likely to rest on whether the government can persuade Labour that its warnings are sincere and that it should reconsider its position.

David Cameron addresses guests at the gay pride reception in the garden at 10 Downing Street, in central London on June 16, 2010. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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I can’t follow Marie Kondo's advice – even an empty Wotsits packet “sparks joy” in me

I thought I’d give her loopy, OCD theories a go, but when I held up an empty Wotsits bag I was suffused with so many happy memories of the time we’d spent together that I couldn’t bear to throw it away.

I have been brooding lately on the Japanese tidying freak Marie Kondo. (I forgot her name so I typed “Japanese tidying freak” into Google, and it was a great help.) The “Japanese” bit is excusable in this context, and explains a bit, as I gather Japan is more on the case with the whole “being tidy” thing than Britain, but still.

Apart from telling us that we need to take an enormous amount of care, to the point where we perform origami when we fold our underpants, which is pretty much where she lost me, she advises us to throw away anything that does not, when you hold it, “spark joy”. Perhaps I have too much joy in my life. I thought I’d give her loopy, OCD theories a go, but when I held up an empty Wotsits bag I was suffused with so many happy memories of the time we’d spent together that I couldn’t bear to throw it away.

After a while I gave up on this because I was getting a bit too happy with all the memories, so then I thought to myself, about her: “This is someone who isn’t getting laid enough,” and then I decided that was a crude and ungallant thought, and besides, who am I to wag the finger? At least if she invites someone to her bedroom no one is going to run screaming from it, as they would if I invited anyone to my boudoir. (Etym: from the French “bouder”, to sulk. How very apt in my case.) Marie Kondo – should bizarre circumstance ever conspire to bring her to the threshold – would run screaming from the Hovel before she’d even alighted the stairs from the front door.

I contemplate my bedroom. As I write, the cleaning lady is in it. To say that I have to spend half an hour cleaning out empty Wotsits packets, and indeed wotnot, before I let her in there should give you some idea of how shameful it has got. And even then I have to pay her to do so.

A girlfriend who used to be referred to often in these pages, though I think the term should be a rather less flippant one than “girlfriend”, managed to get round my natural messiness problem by inventing a game called “keep or chuck”.

She even made up a theme song for it, to the tune from the old Spiderman TV show. She would show me some object, which was not really rubbish, but usually a book (it may not surprise you to learn that it is the piles of books that cause most of the clutter here), and say, “Keep or chuck?” in the manner of a high-speed game show host. At one point I vacillated and so she then pointed at herself and said, “Keep or chuck?” I got the message.

These days the chances of a woman getting into the bedroom are remote. For one thing, you can’t just walk down the street and whistle for one much as one would hail a cab, although my daughter is often baffled by my ability to attract females, and suspects I have some kind of “mind ray”. Well, if I ever did it’s on the blink now, and not only that – right now, I’m not even particularly bothered that it’s on the blink. Because, for another thing, I would frankly not care to inflict myself upon anyone else at the moment.

It was all a bit of a giggle eight years ago, when I was wheeled out of the family home and left to my own devices. Of course, when I say “a bit of a giggle”, I mean “terrifying and miserable”, but I had rather fewer miles on the clock than I do now, and a man can, I think, get away with a little bit more scampish behaviour, and entertain a few more illusions about the future and his own plausibility as a character, when he is squarely in his mid-forties than when he is approaching, at speed, his middle fifties.

Death has rather a lot to do with it, I suppose. I had not actually seen, or touched, a dead body until I saw, and touched, my own father’s a few weeks ago. That’s what turns an abstract into a concrete reality. You finally put that to one side and gird up your loins – and then bloody David Bowie snuffs it, and you find yourself watching the videos for “Blackstar” and “Lazarus” over and over again, and reach the inescapable conclusion that death is not only incredibly unpleasant, it is also remorseless and very much nearer than you think.

And would you, dear reader, want to be involved with anyone who kept thinking along those lines? I mean, even if he learned how to fold his undercrackers into an upright cylinder, like a napkin at a fancy restaurant, before putting them in his drawer? When he doesn’t even have a drawer?

Nicholas Lezard is a literary critic for the Guardian and also writes for the Independent. He writes the Down and Out in London column for the New Statesman.

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