Labour has a public sector reform agenda. Or does it?

Ed Miliband has said the state needs to change. He also needs to say how.

A familiar charge against Labour is that the party is in denial about the need to make cuts to public services. This isn’t quite true. The economic argument Ed Miliband and Ed Balls have advanced certainly attacks the government for premature, ill-targeted and aggressive cuts that stifle growth. (It is safe to say the “too far, too fast” line has had an adequate public airing.) There is also constituency on the left that sees budget austerity as wholly unnecessary – a pretext for indulging an old Conservative appetite for shrinking the state. But the official party line is to accept that spending under a Labour government would be tight. Miliband has been explicit in saying a return to pre-crisis levels of investment in public services is not an option. Balls has promised a “zero-based” spending review, which, in theory at least, puts everything on the table for possible cuts.

The problem is that not enough voters think Labour’s heart is in fiscal discipline, partly because there is very little indication of what the opposition sees the state doing now that it imagines not being done at taxpayers’ expense in the future or, failing that, how it might be done differently so money can be saved. Meanwhile, there are plenty of coalition measures being opposed. If there is a credibility gap it won’t be closed by more theoretical commitments to control spending but in the generation of imaginative ideas for getting more for less. No one questions Labour's love of public services. The doubt is whether it has ideas for expressing that love in ways other than central government spending.

Slowly, a reform agenda is emerging. I’ve blogged before about the shadow health team’s plans for “whole person care” and the merger of NHS and social care budgets. This is perhaps the furthest advanced policy area where Labour front benchers are talking openly about long-term financial constraints. They don’t have much choice. Demographic trends mean that health budgets will be squeezed regardless of the timetable a Chancellor adopts for reining in the deficit.

Liz Kendall, shadow social care minister, gave a speech yesterday setting out in some depth Labour’s approach to the question of how society should care for an ageing population and, crucially, how it might better afford to do so. It is worth a read not just because it contains actual policy but because it sets the issue in a wider context of how state services need to evolve more generally if they are to retain the confidence of people who rely on them. Kendall’s argument is that ultimately users of services will expect to have more control and will expect state provision to be more flexible and responsive to their needs. Those demands can be met, in part, by devolution of budgets but they also require a new way of thinking about what state provision looks and feels like. In a revealing pasage in the speech, Kendall notes:

Making the big changes people want, and our public finances demand, will require fundamental reforms to public services and the role of the state. The old top-down approach - where the state does things to or for people - won’t work. This isn’t just because the kinds of increases in public spending that Labour secured when we were last in Government simply won’t be possible for the foreseeable future. It’s because public services must change if they’re going to retain support in the long run. Every week in my constituency surgery people tell me how frustrated and even angry they are about one public service or another: how they’ve been badly treated, fobbed off and passed between different departments, as if their views and concerns don’t matter. A One Nation approach to public services understands that an over bureaucratic state, as well as unrestrained markets, prevents people from leading the lives they want to live.

A similar argument was made by Ivan Lewis, shadow International Development Secretary, writing about the need to reform the state in the New Statesman last week. He wrote that:

By the end of our period in government, Labour’s failure to talk about family and community left the impression that we saw Britain’s future only through the prism of state and market. One Nation Labour believes our future success depends on our capacity to harness the best of an active state, aspirational individuals, strong families and community networks supported by a vibrant private sector.

...

New private sector provision would be supported where state provision has repeatedly failed or is unable to meet needs and where partnerships between public and private can improve outcomes. But this has to be within a framework of public accountability and high ethical standards. It is one tool in the locker, not the answer in all times and places.

In the NHS and education, the Tories have focused on giving power to the providers of services. One Nation Labour will give more influence and control to patients and parents. In my view choice is neither a panacea nor a realistic option in many circumstances. But it is crucial to give people a personalised - not a “conveyor belt” - service, with greater control for individuals and families over decisions about their lives together with a greater stake in collective community provision.

This may all sound a bit wonkish and abstract but in the context of Labour’s gradual advance towards a position on public sector reform it is significant. (Both interventions would have to be approved by the leader’s office so can be said to have Ed Miliband’s permission – even, perhaps, his blessing.) The problem and the reason new ideas sometimes come across as encrypted or camouflaged in jargon is that not everyone in the party is persuaded that this is the kind of language Labour should be using, or even the kind of conversation the party should be having.

There are, crudely speaking, two kinds of obstruction. The first is among those on the left, chiefly in the trade union movement, who see any discussion of private sector participation, choice or markets as an attack on the integrity of a well-resourced public sector and, by extension, a resurgence of “Blairism.” The increasing deployment of that word as a term of abuse has a suffocating effect, stifling any impulse to consider ways to innovate and demand efficiency in the way government works. The second obstacle is more subtle. It is the concern that advertising Labour’s commitment to reform public services with a more-for-less agenda confuses the message of opposition to what the coalition is doing. In essence, this is the enduring argument that Labour’s commitment to public services is a “dividing line” from the Tories who can be presented as wanting to slash, burn and privatise everything the public holds dear. According to this view, conceding that there is a long-term funding challenge, accepting that services were failing to live up to expectations even under the last government and naming ways to improve them risks abetting the coalition when it claims that its own policies represent a clearing up of Labour’s mess.

The trouble with that approach is that is presumes voters haven’t noticed that the public sector needs modernisation and that they are entirely happy with the kind of service that is delivered by monolithic institutions administered centrally and funded top-down by the Treasury. It also presumes that when voters despair of David Cameron and George Osborne they will rebound naturally into Labour’s arms and cease to believe that a cause of their current pain is profligate spending under the old regime. Three years into this parliament, with two years remaining before a general election, there isn’t much evidence that is the case. Labour needs to be in the business of reassuring people that it respects the fact that the money they spend comes from somewhere and that every sinew is being strained to get the best value from it in terms of quality and efficiency.

Ed Miliband appears gradually to be coming round to this view. When I spoke to him a few weeks ago, he spoke about the challenge of addressing public concerns about an “unresponsive state”. He cited the influence of Jon Cruddas, who leads Labour’s policy review and who has written and spoken in the past about the weakness of a position that relies on defending a faceless bureaucratic state model. But Miliband is happiest talking about the way poeple have lost faith in parts of the private sector – in the banks, privatised utilities, energy and train companies - who they feel are ripping them off. He is at ease urging a more humane and moral brand of capitalism. While he recognises that there is also a need to restore public trust in organs of the state, I sense he is far less enthusiastic about that side of the equation and so less consistently engaged in what might be involved. That will have to change. There is only so much that can be achieved by allowing out-riding shadow ministers to float public sector reform ideas in occasional op eds and speeches. At some point, if this is to become a serious plank of party policy, the leader has to put the full authority of his office behind it. If Labour really believes in reforming the state, if it thinks that innovation in the public sector is one route to a better society and a balanced budget, Ed Miliband has to start saying so.

Ed Miliband and Ed Balls at the Labour conference in Manchester last year. Photograph: Getty Images.

Rafael Behr is political columnist at the Guardian and former political editor of the New Statesman

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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