George Osborne's Conservative fringe appearance: 10 things we learned

Including, his parents were non-Tory voters and Gordon Brown is the only politician "he found it impossible to have a civil relationship with".

It's been a while since anyone called George Osborne "the submarine" - and with good reason. The man previously known for surfacing only for set-piece events and retreating under water at the first sign of trouble, has become one of the government’s most visible faces. In the last year, he has made a series of high-profile speeches on the economy, taken the fight to Alex Salmond in Scotland, and braved the world of Twitter. The morning after the government’s defeat over Syria, it was the Chancellor who led the counter-offensive on the Today programme.

After his strikingly personal speech to the Conservative conference yesterday, in which he referenced his children and his parents (seen by many as preparing the ground for a future leadership bid), Osborne made a rare appearance on the fringe at lunchtime, speaking to Channel 4 News's Gary Gibbon. Here are ten things we learned.

1. His mum has voted Labour and his dad used to vote Liberal but both now vote Conservative.

2. Gordon Brown is the only politician "he found it impossible to have a civil relationship with".

3. He believes the Tories "never really" worked out how to deal with Tony Blair, "the master of the political landscape", and "need to understand why he was appealing".

4. He conceded of the 2012 "omnishambles" Budget: "in my job you're not supposed to make those political miscalculations."

5. After pledging in his speech to achieve a budget surplus by the end of the next parliament, he has not decided whether to continue to ring-fence health and international development spending.

6. Nigel Lawson's children helped persuade him to move his family to No. 11 Downing Street.

7. He sees himself as "a social liberal, small 'l'" and cited his strong support for equal marriage and gay rights.

8. He "does not want to run the election campaign" (Osborne is still officially the Tories' chief election strategist), "which is why we've got Lynton Crosby in. I was the one who approached him."

9. While refusing to comment on his reported leadership ambitions ("I'm not going to fall for that"), he believes that as Chancellor he has "an obligation to get out and about".

10. Michael Gove joked (brilliantly) of his new hairstyle: "you've applied your economic policy to your hair. You've turned it around to stop the recession."

George Osborne delivers his speech to the Conservative conference in Manchester. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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What David Hockney has to tell us about football

Why the sudden glut of blond footballers? A conversation I had with the artist back in 1966 gave me a clue. . .

In 1966, I went to interview David Hockney at a rather run-down flat in Bayswater, central London. He was 28 and had just won a gold medal at the Royal College of Art.

In his lavatory, I noticed a cut-out photograph from a newspaper of Denis Law scoring a goal. I asked if he was a football fan. He said no, he just liked Denis Law’s thighs.

The sub-editors cut that remark out of the story, to save any gossip or legal problems. In 1966 homosexual activity could still be an offence.

Hockney and a friend had recently been in the United States and had been watching an advert on TV that said “Blondes have more fun”. At two o’clock in the morning, slightly drunk, they both went out, bought some hair dye and became blond. Hockney decided to remain blond from then on, though he has naturally dark hair.

Is it true that blonds have more fun? Lionel Messi presumably thinks so, otherwise why has he greeted this brand-new season with that weird blond hair? We look at his face, his figure, his posture and we know it’s him – then we blink, thinking what the heck, does he realise some joker has been pouring stuff on his head?

He has always been such a staid, old-fashioned-looking lad, never messing around with his hair till now. Neymar, beside him, has gone even blonder, but somehow we expect it of him. He had foony hair even before he left Brazil.

Over here, blonds are popping up all over the shop. Most teams now have a born-again blondie. It must take a fortune for Marouane Fellaini of Man United to brighten up his hair, as he has so much. But it’s already fading. Cheapskate.

Mesut Özil of Arsenal held back, not going the full head, just bits of it, which I suspect is a clue to his wavering, hesitant personality. His colleague Aaron Ramsey has almost the full blond monty. Paul Pogba of Man United has a sort of blond streak, more like a marker pen than a makeover. His colleague Phil Jones has appeared blond, but he seems to have disappeared from the team sheet. Samir Nasri of Man City went startlingly blond, but is on loan to Seville, so we’re not able to enjoy his locks. And Didier Ndong of Sunderland is a striking blond, thanks to gallons of bleach.

Remember the Romanians in the 1998 World Cup? They suddenly appeared blond, every one of them. God, that was brilliant. One of my all-time best World Cup moments, and I was at Wembley in 1966.

So, why do they do it? Well, Hockney was right, in a sense. Not to have more fun – meaning more sex – because top footballers are more than well supplied, but because their normal working lives are on the whole devoid of fun.

They can’t stuff their faces with fast food, drink themselves stupid, stay up all night, take a few silly pills – which is what many of our healthy 25-year-old lads consider a reasonably fun evening. Nor can they spend all their millions on fun hols, such as skiing in the winter, a safari in the spring, or hang-gliding at the weekend. Prem players have to be so boringly sensible these days, or their foreign managers will be screaming at them in their funny foreign accents.

While not on the pitch, or training, which takes up only a few hours a day, the boredom is appalling, endlessly on planes or coaches or in some hotel that could be anywhere.

The only bright spot in the long days is to look in the mirror and think: “Hmm, I wonder what highlights would look like? I’ve done the beard and the tattoos. Now let’s go for blond. Wow, gorgeous.”

They influence each other, being simple souls, so when one dyes his hair, depending on where he is in the macho pecking order, others follow. They put in the day by looking at themselves. Harmless fun. Bless ’em.

But I expect all the faux blonds to have gone by Christmas. Along with Mourinho. I said that to myself the moment he arrived in Manchester, smirking away. Pep will see him off. OK then, let’s say Easter at the latest . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 22 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times