Ed Miliband speaks at the CBI conference in London in 2012 - his decision not to guarantee an in/out referendum could help to drive a wedge between the Tories and business. Photograph: Getty Images.
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Why Miliband is right not to promise an EU referendum

Guaranteeing an in/out vote would have shifted the debate back onto Tory territory and could have wrecked a future Miliband premiership.

Ed Miliband has stood firm against the europhobes. As I revealed he would last month, the Labour leader has confirmed that he will not match David Cameron's guarantee of an in/out EU referendum in the next parliament. In an article in today's FT (to be followed by a speech at the London Business School at 10:45am), he announces that a public vote on the UK's membership will be held under Labour if new powers are transferred from Britain to Brussels (a tougher version of the coalition's referendum lock, which only mandates a vote on specific treaty changes). But crucially, he also makes it clear that he does not believe this condition will be met: "It is unlikely there will be any such proposal in the next parliament." In other words, don't expect a referendum under Labour. Miliband, who, as one shadow cabinet member told me, has always been "instinctively opposed" to a vote, has merely provided himself with some protective cover.

There are plenty who argue that his decision not to match Cameron's pledge is a profound misjudgement. They warn that it will allow the Tories to frame Labour as unwilling to "trust the people" and make it easier for them to lure back UKIP defectors (as the only main party committed to a referendum). But the truth is that Miliband's decision not to guarantee a vote is one of the wisest of his leadership. 

Far from being a clever ruse to wrongfoot the Tories, a referendum pledge would have shifted the debate back onto Conservative territory and enabled Cameron to claim that a "weak" Miliband was dancing to his tune. Aware of this, the Labour leader will maintain his laser-like focus on living standards, the issue which has defined the agenda since his conference speech and on which his party continues to enjoy a substantial lead over the Tories. As he has said before, "I think what we see is the Conservative Party talking to itself about Europe when actually what they should be doing is talking to the country about the most important issue that people are facing, which is the cost of living crisis. That’s what Labour’s talking about; that’s the right priority for the country." 

Amongst other things, the party's focus on growth, rather than a fantastical renegotiation plan, will help to drive a wedge between the Tories and business (it is no coincidence that Miliband's article was placed in the FT and that his speech is at the London Business School). As one Labour source told me, while many large firms disapprove of Labour's stance on energy and banking, they are far more troubled by the threat of EU withdrawal under a Conservative-led government. Martin Sorrell recently revealed that he and others had told Cameron that "if he were to drop the referendum he would be a shoo-in". That's almost certainly not the case (as Sorrell appeared to forget, most voters support a referendum) but it shows how desperate businesses are for Britain to remain in the EU. 

Cameron's charge that Labour is denying the people their say is one that some MPs fear will haunt the party during the general election campaign. Yet there is no evidence that the Tories' pledge will succeed in winning back significant numbers of voters from UKIP, most of whom have far wider grievances, or that it will define the 2015 contest in the way that some Conservatives hope. As polling by Ipsos MORI has consistently shown, the EU does not even make it into the top ten of voters' concerns (it is currently ranked 18th). Labour strategists would like nothing more than for the Tories to make one of their main dividing lines an issue that most voters do not care about. The more time the Conservatives spend "banging on" about Europe, the less time they spend talking about the issues - the economy, jobs, housing, public services - that might actually help them win the next election.

The public may favour an EU referendum but then they invariably support a vote on any issue if given the choice. The salient point remains that just 2 per cent regard it as "the most important issue" facing Britain (compared to 90 per cent of Conservative backbenchers)  and just 6 per cent regard it as "one of the most important issues". Lord Ashcroft's recent study of Tory-leaning voters found that even for them an EU referendum is "a sideshow". He wrote: "A surprising number of those we spoke to did not realise it was even on the agenda, and were nonplussed when they found out it was. Those for whom it is important know all about it (though they sometimes doubt it will come to pass even if the Tories win). But to make it a major theme of the campaign would be to miss the chance to talk about things that matter more to more people." If there is an electoral cost to Labour from refusing to match Cameron's promise, it will likely be too small to make a difference. 

Miliband has rightly judged that the dangers of a cast-iron guarantee far outweigh any potential benefits. This is not least because he recognises that he has a good chance of being in power after the next election and does not want the opening years of his premiership to be dominated by a referendum that a Labour government would find harder to win than a Tory one. A public vote to leave the EU in 2017, against Miliband's wishes, would shatter his authority. 

Those who claim that his referendum stance will harm Labour's election chances are the same who claimed that Cameron's pledge last year would unite the Tories, reverse UKIP's advance and even overturn the opposition's poll lead. It achieved none of these - and Miliband is right to reject their representations. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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Bertie Carvel's diary: What would the French think about infidelity to Doctor Foster?

The joy of debuting a new series, Rupert Murdoch's squeamishness and a sting in the tail.

According to the adage, the first thing an actor does when he gets a job is to go on holiday. And so, having finished our sold-out run of James Graham’s Ink at the Almeida and with the show (in which I play a young Rupert Murdoch) about to transfer into the West End, I’m packing my bags.

But before I can skip town, I’ve one more professional engagement: the press launch of series two of the BBC drama Doctor Foster, which we finished filming at Christmas. I’ve now seen the final cut of all five episodes, and I’m excited to share it with an audience. There’s no substitute for seeing other people’s reactions at first hand, especially with a show that got people talking so much first time around, and it’s electric to sit in a cinema full of expectant journalists and commentators and feel the room respond. Nothing beats this: to put so much into making a thing and then experience an audience’s unmediated, reflexive reaction. When it goes well, you feel that you’ve shared something, that you’ve all recognised something together about how things are. It’s a unifying feeling. A sort of bond.

Cheating spouses

Handling the interviews has been tricky, when there’s so little one can say without giving the plot away. (The first series began with Suranne Jones’s character Gemma, a GP, suspecting her husband Simon of having an affair.) What’s more, lots of the questions invite moral judgements that I’ve tried my best to avoid; I always think it’s really important not to judge the characters I play from outside, but simply to work out how they feel about themselves, to zero in on their point of view. There’s a sort of moral bloodlust around this show: it’s extraordinary. People seem to want to hear that I’ve been pilloried in the street, or expect me to put distance between myself and my character, to hang him out to dry as a pariah.

While I’m not in the business of defending Simon Foster any more than I’m in the business of attacking him, I am intrigued by this queer mixture of sensationalism and prurience that seems to surface again and again.

Shock horror

Oddly enough, it’s something that comes up in Ink: many people have been surprised to find that, in a story about the re-launch of the Sun newspaper in 1969 as a buccaneering tabloid, it’s the proprietor who considers dropping anchor when the spirit of free enterprise threatens to set his moral compass spinning.

I’ve never given it much thought before, but I suppose that sensationalism relies on a fairly rigid worldview for its oxygen – the SHOCKERS! that scream at us in tabloid headlines are deviations from a conventional idea of the norm. But what’s behind the appetite for this sort of story? Do we tell tales of transgression to reinforce our collective boundaries or to challenge them?

For me there’s a close kinship between good journalism and good drama. I’m reminded of the words of John Galsworthy, who wrote Strife, the play I directed last summer, and who felt that the writer should aim “to set before the public no cut-and-dried codes, but the phenomena of life and character, selected and combined, but not distorted, by the dramatist’s outlook, set down without fear, favour, or prejudice, leaving the public to draw such poor moral as nature may afford”.

So when it comes to promoting the thing we’ve made, I’m faced with a real conundrum: on the one hand I want it to reach a wide audience, and I’m flattered that there’s an appetite to hear about my contribution to the process of making it; but on the other hand I think the really interesting thing about the work is contained in the work itself. I’m always struck, in art galleries, by how much more time people spend reading the notes next to the paintings than looking at the paintings themselves. I’m sure that’s the wrong way around.

Insouciant remake

En route to the airport the next morning I read that Doctor Foster is to be adapted into a new French version. It’s a cliché verging on racism, but I can’t help wondering whether the French will have a different attitude to a story about marital infidelity, and whether the tone of the press coverage will differ. I wonder, too, whether, in the home of Roland Barthes, there is as much space given to artists to talk about what they’ve made – in his 1967 essay, “The Death of the Author”, Barthes wrote that “a text’s unity lies not in its origin but in its destination”.

No stone unturned

Touring the villages of Gigondas, Sablet and Séguret later that evening, I’m struck by the provision of espaces culturels in seemingly every commune, however small. The French certainly give space to the work itself. But I also notice a sign warning of a chat lunatique, so decide to beat a hasty retreat. Arriving at the house where I’m staying, I’ve been told that the key will be under a flowerpot. Lifting each tub in turn, and finally a large flat stone by the door, I find a small scorpion, but no key. I’m writing this at a table less than a yard away so let’s hope there won’t be a sting in this tale.

Ink opens at the Duke of York Theatre, London, on 9 September. More details: almeida.co.uk

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