Sarah Teather attacks the Government's treatment of immigrants

In a major interview with the Guardian, the former minister for children and families speaks out over the anti-immigrant rhetoric of the Government.

Former Lib Dem minister Sarah Teather has given a major interview to the Guardian newspaper, in which she bemoans the government's monolithic anti-immigration attitude. Speaking to Decca Aitkenhead, Teather attacks the policies which have sprung from the "inter-ministerial group on migrants' access to benefits and public services" – formerly known as the "hostile environment working group" – on which she used to sit.

One of the proposals the group made was to force landlords to check the immigration status of potential tenants. Of that, Teather said:

It's quite an extraordinary change in the relationship between the citizen and the state, isn't it? To expect a private individual to police our immigration system – what's the difference between that and saying you're not allowed to buy a piece of fruit from Sainsbury's without proving you're not an illegal immigrant? Because as a private landlord you are a private individual who is effectively selling a product, and we're saying you're not allowed to sell to this person who can't prove their status.

…It's completely unworkable. I wonder whether or not the people who've designed this policy actually have any idea what Home Office regulations are.

Teather also attacked proposals to force GPs to make the same checks:

If you stop people going to the GP, they'll go to A&E instead, because A&E is not included in this. What have we spent the last 15 years doing? Trying to get primary care to take responsibility, to prevent people turning up at A&E… Do the maths. It's not going to save any money.

On the government's decision, introduced last year, to split up families where the British spouse earns less than £18,600, Teather says:

It's just a disaster… Lots of British citizens who never expected to be caught up in the immigration system are about to see their families split up. You may have tens of thousands in savings, you may have extremely rich grandparents, your spouse may be a high earner – a whole set of things that would clearly demonstrate that you meet the criteria whereby you'd be no burden on the taxpayer – and yet you're still not allowed to bring your spouse here, because we want to demonstrate that we are bringing numbers down.

Teather points to Tory ignorance as the source of some of the problems, citing beliefs that unemployed people wouldn't be hurt by the new seven-day wait to claim benefits because they would have redundancy payments as an example of how her coalition partners are out of touch. But she also argues that there's an element of maliciousness to the policies:

What alarms me is that the immigration proposals feel as if they're hewn from the same rock as welfare earlier in the year, where a lot of that again was about setting up political dividing lines, and trying to create and define an enemy. It's got to a stage where it's almost unacceptable to say anything else, and it bothers me that there is a consensus among the three party leaders that they are all making, well not quite the same speech – there are differences, significant differences – but there's a consensus. It's stifling the rest of the debate, making people afraid to speak. If you get to a stage where there is no alternative voice, eventually democracy's just going to break down.

Vince Cable, the business minister, has since spoken out in support of Teather, saying:

I salute Sarah Teather's comments. We need principled economically literate immigration policy.

But it must be remembered that the undercurrent of the interview with Aitkenhead is party political. The important question to ask over the coming weeks is whether this is a genuine attempt to soften government policy – or just an attempt to put some space between the Tories and Lib Dems in the minds of the public.

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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A swimming pool and a bleeding toe put my medical competency in doubt

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Sometimes the search engine wins. 

The brutal heatwave affecting southern Europe this summer has become known among locals as “Lucifer”. Having just returned from Italy, I fully understand the nickname. An early excursion caused the beginnings of sunstroke, so we abandoned plans to explore the cultural heritage of the Amalfi region and strayed no further than five metres from the hotel pool for the rest of the week.

The children were delighted, particularly my 12-year-old stepdaughter, Gracie, who proceeded to spend hours at a time playing in the water. Towelling herself after one long session, she noticed something odd.

“What’s happened there?” she asked, holding her foot aloft in front of my face.

I inspected the proffered appendage: on the underside of her big toe was an oblong area of glistening red flesh that looked like a chunk of raw steak.

“Did you injure it?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”

I shrugged and said she must have grazed it. She wasn’t convinced, pointing out that she would remember if she had done that. She has great faith in plasters, though, and once it was dressed she forgot all about it. I dismissed it, too, assuming it was one of those things.

By the end of the next day, the pulp on the underside of all of her toes looked the same. As the doctor in the family, I felt under some pressure to come up with an explanation. I made up something about burns from the hot paving slabs around the pool. Gracie didn’t say as much, but her look suggested a dawning scepticism over my claims to hold a medical degree.

The next day, Gracie and her new-found holiday playmate, Eve, abruptly terminated a marathon piggy-in-the-middle session in the pool with Eve’s dad. “Our feet are bleeding,” they announced, somewhat incredulously. Sure enough, bright-red blood was flowing, apparently painlessly, from the bottoms of their big toes.

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Often, what patients discover on the internet causes them undue alarm, and our role is to provide context and reassurance. But not infrequently, people come across information that outstrips our knowledge. On my return from our room with fresh supplies of plasters, my wife looked up from her sun lounger with an air of quiet amusement.

“It’s called ‘pool toe’,” she said, handing me her iPhone. The page she had tracked down described the girls’ situation exactly: friction burns, most commonly seen in children, caused by repetitive hopping about on the abrasive floors of swimming pools. Doctors practising in hot countries must see it all the time. I doubt it presents often to British GPs.

I remained puzzled about the lack of pain. The injuries looked bad, but neither Gracie nor Eve was particularly bothered. Here the internet drew a blank, but I suspect it has to do with the “pruning” of our skin that we’re all familiar with after a soak in the bath. This only occurs over the pulps of our fingers and toes. It was once thought to be caused by water diffusing into skin cells, making them swell, but the truth is far more fascinating.

The wrinkling is an active process, triggered by immersion, in which the blood supply to the pulp regions is switched off, causing the skin there to shrink and pucker. This creates the biological equivalent of tyre treads on our fingers and toes and markedly improves our grip – of great evolutionary advantage when grasping slippery fish in a river, or if trying to maintain balance on slick wet rocks.

The flip side of this is much greater friction, leading to abrasion of the skin through repeated micro-trauma. And the lack of blood flow causes nerves to shut down, depriving us of the pain that would otherwise alert us to the ongoing tissue damage. An adaptation that helped our ancestors hunt in rivers proves considerably less use on a modern summer holiday.

I may not have seen much of the local heritage, but the trip to Italy taught me something new all the same. 

This article first appeared in the 17 August 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump goes nuclear