Why Labour's poll lead is small but very stubborn

So long as Miliband retains the support of around 20% of 2010 Lib Dem voters, the Tories have no hope of victory.

For the fourth Christmas in a row, Labour looks set to end the year ahead in the polls. With some exceptions, those commentators who dismissed Ed Miliband as "unelectable" in 2010 have now conceded they were wrong to do so. Labour is no longer achieving the double-digit poll leads it enjoyed last year but its lead remains stubborn enough for it to be confident of at least emerging as the single largest party in 2015.

The central point in Labour's favour, as throughout this parliament, remains the large number of defectors from the Lib Dems. The party still reliably enjoys the support of nearly a quarter of 2010 Lib Dems voters, a swing greater than the cumulative increase in the Conservative vote between 1997 and 2010. It is largely for this reason that while Labour's lead has varied significantly in recent months (largely dependent on UKIP's level of support), its vote share has remained steady at 38-41% (within the margin of error), putting Miliband on course for victory. 

Aware that they are unlikely to poll above their 2010 share of 37% (GB figure), the Tories reportedly hope and believe that they can cap Labour's vote at 32%. But their fate remains largely out of their hands. Unlike previous parliaments, this one has seen remarkably little switching between the two main parties. As a result, there is little potential for the Tories to reduce Labour's support by winning over Conservative defectors. Instead, their chances of victory are dependent on a significant Lib Dem recovery. Unfortunately for Cameron, there is little prospect of this. As Lord Ashcroft's recent study of 2010 Lib Dem supporters noted, those who have defected to Labour are the least likely to return to the fold, with 78% saying they are certain how they will vote, compared to 69% of those who say they would Conservative, 62% of those who say they would vote UKIP and 42% of those who would vote Green. 

While existing Lib Dem MPs, many of whom enjoy large local followings, are likely to benefit from an incumbency effect, it is the Tories, not Labour, who will suffer as a result; Cameron's party is in second place in 38 of the Lib Dems' 57 seats. Elsewhere, support for Clegg's party is in freefall - and the Tories stand to lose dozens of seats; there are 37 Conservative-Labour marginals where the third place Lib Dem vote is more than twice the margin of victory.

The Tories retain an unerring confidence that, confronted by the prospect of Miliband entering Downing Street, voters will recoil from Labour. By framing the election as a presidential contest – do you want Cameron or Miliband as your prime minister? – they believe they can overturn Labour’s lead (Cameron leads Miliband as people's preferred PM by 35-20 in today's YouGov poll). But this assumption is based more on faith than evidence. History shows that a well-liked (or, more accurately, less disliked) leader is no guarantee of electoral success. In the final poll before the 1979 election, Jim Callaghan enjoyed a 19-point lead over Margaret Thatcher as "the best prime minister" but the Tories still won a majority of 44 seats. Similarly, in the 1970 election, Harold Wilson's 23-point lead over Ted Heath failed to prevent Labour suffering a decisive defeat.

Nor is economic recovery, however strong, likely to be enough to save the Tories. In large parts of the country, they simply remain too toxic for voters to lend them the support they need to beat Labour. As a recent YouGov poll found, 33% of the electorate would "never vote" Conservative, compared to 24% for Labour. Blue collar modernisers such as Robert Halfon and Guy Opperman understand what the Tories need to do to shed their reputation as the party of the rich. But cleansing the Conservative brand, as Cameron failed to do, will be the work of a decade, not 18 months. For the Tories, the really hard work is likely to begin after 7 May 2015. 

David Cameron and Ed Miliband in Westminster Hall on June 21, 2012. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

Photo: Getty
Show Hide image

We argue over Charlie Gard, but forget those spending whole lives caring for a disabled child

The everyday misery of care work is hidden behind abstract arguments over life and death.

“Sometimes,” says the mother, “I wish we’d let him go. Or that he’d just been allowed to slip away.” The father agrees, sometimes. So too does the child, who is not a child any more.

On good days, nobody thinks this way, but not all days are good. There have been bright spots during the course of the past four decades, occasional moments of real hope, but now everyone is tired, everyone is old and the mundane work of loving takes a ferocious toll.

When we talk about caring for sick children, we usually mean minors. It’s easiest that way. That for some parents, the exhaustion and intensity of those first days with a newborn never, ever ends – that you can be in your fifties, sixties, seventies, caring for a child in their twenties, thirties, forties – is not something the rest of us want to think about.

It’s hard to romanticise devotion strung out over that many hopeless, sleepless nights. Better to imagine the tragic mother holding on to the infant who still fits in her loving arms, not the son who’s now twice her size, himself edging towards middle-age and the cliff edge that comes when mummy’s no longer around.

Writing on the tragic case of Charlie Gard, the Guardian’s Giles Fraser claims that he would “rain fire on the whole world to hold my child for a day longer”. The Gard case, he argues, has “set the cool rational compassion of judicial judgement and clinical expertise against the passion of parental love”: “Which is why those who have never smelled the specific perfume of Charlie’s neck, those who have never held him tight or wept and prayed over his welfare, are deemed better placed to determine how he is to live and die.”

This may be true. It may also be true that right now, countless parents who have smelled their own child’s specific perfume, held them tightly, wept for them, loved them beyond all measure, are wishing only for that child’s suffering to end. What of their love? What of their reluctance to set the world aflame for one day more? And what of their need for a life of their own, away from the fantasies of those who’ll passionately defend a parent’s right to keep their child alive but won’t be there at 5am, night after night, cleaning out feeding tubes and mopping up shit?

Parental – in particular, maternal – devotion is seen as an endlessly renewable resource. A real parent never gets tired of loving. A real parent never wonders whether actually, all things considered, it might have caused less suffering for a child never to have been born at all. Such thoughts are impermissible, not least because they’re dangerous. Everyone’s life matters. Nonetheless, there are parents who have these thoughts, not because they don’t love their children, but because they do.

Reporting on the Gard case reminds me of the sanitised image we have of what constitutes the life of a parent of a sick child. It’s impossible not to feel enormous compassion for Charlie’s parents. As the mother of a toddler, I know that in a similar situation I’d have been torn apart. It’s not difficult to look at photos of Charlie and imagine one’s own child in his place. All babies are small and helpless; all babies cry out to be held.

But attitudes change as children get older. In the case of my own family, I noticed a real dropping away of support for my parents and disabled brother as the latter moved into adulthood. There were people who briefly picked him up as a kind of project and then, upon realising that there would be no schmaltzy ending to the story, dropped him again. Love and compassion don’t conquer all, patience runs out and dignity is clearly best respected from a distance.

All too often, the everyday misery of care work is hidden behind abstract arguments over who gets the right to decide whether an individual lives or dies. I don’t know any parents who truly want that right. Not only would it be morally untenable, it’s also a misrepresentation of what their struggles really are and mean.

What many parents who remain lifelong carers need is adequate respite support, a space in which to talk honestly, and the recognition that actually, sometimes loving is a grim and hopeless pursuit. Those who romanticise parental love – who, like Fraser, wallow in heroic portrayals of “battling, devoted parents” – do nothing to alleviate the suffering of those whose love mingles with resentment, exhaustion and sheer loneliness.

There are parents out there who, just occasionally, would be willing to set the world on fire to have a day’s respite from loving. But regardless of whether your child lives or dies, love never ends. 

Glosswitch is a feminist mother of three who works in publishing.