The Tories' EU games are undermining their "grown-up" economic message

The threat by Nissan to withdraw from Britain if the UK leaves the EU shows how the Tories' euroscepticism pulls against their emphasis on stability.

As Labour gains ground with its cost-of-living offensive, the Tories have sought to present themselves as the "grown-up" party that can be trusted to maintain economic stability and avoid short-term "gimmicks" that threaten this aim. But this strategy risks being undermined by their decision to raise the spectre of EU withdrawal. On the day that MPs debate Conservative MP James Wharton's bill guaranteeing a referendum in 2017 (and Adam Afriyie's amendment for a vote in October), the head of Nissan has warned that his company could withdraw from Britain if the UK leaves the EU. Carlos Ghosn said: "If anything has to change we [would] need to reconsider our strategy and our investments for the future." Were Nissan to leave, 6,500 jobs at the company's Sunderland site would be lost.

For the Tories, who have made much of the renaissance of car manufacturing in Britain (with output forecast to reach a record high by 2015), it's an awkward message. Of the 30 brands manufacturing 70 models in the UK, Nissan is the largest and recently announced that its Sunderland plant would move to 24-hour production in 2014 to meet demand. With the uncertainty now set to endure until at least 2015, Ghosn's warning is likely to be the first of many that tarnish the Tories' economic brand.

And for what gain? Those who confidently predicted back in January that Cameron's EU referendum pledge would shoot Farage's fox, or even set the Conservatives on the road to victory, have been proved entirely wrong. The motivations of those who support UKIP are too complex and long-term for them to be bought off by the promise of a vote in 2017.

While the public share the Tories' euroscepticism, they do not share their obsession with the subject. As polling by Ipsos MORI has consistently shown, voters do not regard it as one of the ten most important issues. It's true that they overwhelmingly support an EU referendum but as pollsters regularly attest, this merely reflects their general predilection for such votes.

Cameron knows and understands all of the above. One of the principal aims of his speech was to settle the debate, calm his restive backbenchers and move on. But with the focus now likely to shift to exactly which powers he will seek to repatriate, there is little prospect of any relief.

David Cameron gestures during a press conference at the end of the second and last day of an European Union (EU) Council meeting on October 25, 2013 at the EU Headquarters in Brussels. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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Want your team to succeed? Try taking a step back

From the boardroom to the sports ground, managers need to step back for creativity to thrive.

Everyone is in favour of creativity, usually at the expense of creative people. The concept is in perpetual boom. Give us creative midfielders, creative leadership, creative solutions, creative energy. It’s with the “how” that the problems start – with extra meetings and meddling, over-analysis and prescriptiveness, whiteboards and flow charts. Professional systems rarely support the creativity that they allegedly seek. The creativity industry system is at odds with its stated goals.

The novel was an early casualty. Nothing makes me close a book more quickly and finally than the creeping realisation that the author is following a narrative map purchased on an American creative writing course. Life is too short for competent novels. The creativity industry pulls up the worst while dragging down the best.

Something similar happens inside professional sport, even though creativity is so obviously linked to performance and profit. Yet sport, especially English sport, has suffered from excessive managerialism. Perhaps guilt about English sport’s amateur legacy gave “professionalism” free rein, however pedestrian its form.

Here is sport’s problem with creativity: professional systems crave control, but creativity relies on escaping control. If an attacking player doesn’t know what he is going to do next, what chance does the defender have?

So when truly unexpected moments do happen, they take on a special lustre. This month, Olivier Giroud scored an unforgettable goal for Arsenal. Bearing down on the goal, he was already launched in mid-air when he realised that the cross was well behind him. With his body far ahead of his feet, Giroud clipped the ball to the top corner of the net with the outside of his left ankle – a so-called scorpion kick.

It was, in retrospect, the only option available to him. Football, for a moment, touched the arts – not only beautiful, but also complete. Nothing could have been added or taken away.

I once tried to compare the perfect cricket shot to Robert Frost’s celebrated description of writing a poem: “It begins in delight, it inclines to the impulse, it assumes direction with the first line laid down, it runs a course of lucky events, and ends in a clarification . . . Like a piece of ice on a hot stove the poem must ride on its own melting.”

A great goal, however, fits that poetic model better than a cricket shot. Cricket shots come in many aesthetic grades, but they are all intended as shots. A goal, on the other hand, is more than just a very good pass, only better. There is an act of transformation within the event.

Frost’s acknowledgment of luck (distinct here from fluke) neatly defuses the accusation. Saying that a great goal involved luck does not to diminish it. Many unearned factors must interact with the skill.

“But did he mean it?” some people have wondered about Giroud’s goal. That isn’t the point, either. There wasn’t time. Giroud had solved the problem – to make contact with the ball, however possible, directing it towards the goal – before he was fully conscious of it. That doesn’t make it an accident. The expertise of a striker, like that of a writer, is opportunistic. He puts himself in positions where his skills can become productive. It is a honed ability to be instinctive. “If I’d thought about it, I never would have done it,” as Bob Dylan sings on “Up to Me”, an out-take from Blood on the Tracks.

Pseudo-intellectual? Quite the reverse. There is nothing pretentious about recognising and protecting creativity in sport. Over-literal decoding is the greater threat: instinctive performance needs to be saved from team meetings, not from intellectuals.

Having described a creative goal as unplanned – indeed, impossible to plan – what can coaches do to help? They can get out of the way, that’s a good start. It is no coincidence that the teams of Arsène Wenger, who is sometimes criticised for being insufficiently prescriptive, score more than their fair share of wonder goals.

The opposite arrangement is bleak. A friend of mine, a fly-half in professional rugby union, retired from the game when his coaches told him exactly which decisions to make in the first six phases of every attacking move. In effect, they banned him from playing creatively; they wanted rugby by numbers.

Not everything can be rehearsed. One useful book for coaches scarcely mentions sport – Inside Conducting, by the conductor Christopher Seaman. “I’ve never had much sympathy for conductors who ‘program’ an orchestra at rehearsal,” Seaman writes, “and then just run the program during the performance. There is much more
to it than that.”

Dan Vettori, the rising star among cricket’s Twenty20 coaches, is rare for having the bravery to echo Seaman’s theory. He believes that cricketers are more likely to play well when they feel slightly underprepared. It’s a risk and a fine balance – but worth it.

As I explored here last month in the context of Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky, there is a danger of slotting players into false stereotypes and classifications. Giroud, for example, is slow. Slow yet athletic. That’s an unusual combination and partly explains why he is underrated.

We often think of pace as the central and definitive aspect of athleticism. But speed is just one component of total athletic ability (leave to one side footballing skill). Giroud has an outstanding vertical jump, power and great balance. Because he is big and slow, those athletic gifts are harder to spot.

Management systems overestimate both labels and top-down tactics. A braver policy, pragmatic as well as aesthetic, is to be less controlling: allow opportunity to collide with skill, directed by an open, expert and uncluttered mind. l

Ed Smith is a journalist and author, most recently of Luck. He is a former professional cricketer and played for both Middlesex and England.

This article first appeared in the 12 January 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's revenge