Ed Miliband must introduce some passion into his politics. Photo: Getty
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Ed Miliband must realise that next year’s election will be won on emotion

The Labour leader needs to appeal to human feeling to truly unite the United Kingdom, and be in with a chance of electoral success.

The picture for Labour in Scotland is looking bleak. Latest polling from Ipsos Mori has found that 52 per cent of Scots will be voting for the SNP in next year’s general election, with only 23% intending to back Labour. No fewer than 12 Labour constituencies voted Yes in September’s Scottish independence referendum and Nicola Sturgeon has taken the reigns as First Minister with renewed vigor, with SNP membership tripling since the vote.

Last week, it was estimated that Labour would lose 15 seats to the SNP. Now it could be as many as 36 of their 41 seats – a historic moment of major catastrophe in British politics. Without strong support in Scotland, Labour will face a humiliating defeat come May. The Scottish issue should be of concern to the entire party, not just those in the region, as it could very well lose Labour the election.

We know that modern-day politics is all about emotion. The surge of support for the SNP is evidence of this. Next year’s election will be won on human feelings. The emotional momentum that used to be the domain of the left has now seeped into the whole of mainstream politics.

The No contingent in the referendum campaign realised this only at the last moment, saving the Union by the skin of their teeth. The Yes had all the good songs, all the best soundbites, until the usually-sullen Gordon Brown erupted into righteous, Calvinistic anger at the prospect of the Union being torn asunder. Finally, here was a rhetoric that is at the level of the issues at stake. This is what Labour needs to do to give itself a chance of victory in May.

Making a last-dash attempt to squeeze over the 35 per cent line is a suicidal strategy, one which will alienate much of the electorate and even the party faithful. Politics is about emotion and the performance of emotion. Labour must pull out all the stops to appeal to the emotions of the electorate, not through any kind of manipulation or sentimentalism, but through talking clearly, coherently, accurately and passionately about the issues at stake.

It is a myth that London doesn’t care about Glasgow and that the Labour Party in Westminster treat Scottish Labour as nothing more than a branch office. But this is a dangerous myth, one that many people across the UK believe to be true. The reason why so many people put stock in this myth is because it echoes a deep-seated belief that the political ‘centre’ or elite are cavalier or even apathetic to the fringes.

The only way to counter damaging myths is with strong performance. You do not allow anyone to suspect that you may go back on promises already made (for example, on devolution), another powerful and damaging myth, or that you do not listen to those outside London. Ed Miliband has defended against leadership attacks within his own party by developing a narrative of a party united. He now needs to do more to make this a national narrative of a country united, one that includes Scotland and persuades the electorate and party supporters that they are and will be listened to by Labour. As leader of the Labour Party, Miliband must be a strong, rallying figure and get on stage and perform this, alongside a renewed and preferably federal Scottish Labour Party and some real policies about reducing poverty and income disparity and involving people in politics.

The United Kingdom is our national story, one which has emotional resonance with us all. My mother – a Glaswegian – and my father – a Dubliner – met in London as young British workers. This emotional appeal of Britishness must be used by Miliband to illustrate the essence of a properly United Kingdom. Miliband must make the Scots want to elect a Labour government in 2015. Without Scotland, Labour will fail in May. Miliband must tell the Scots why those 40 MPs are needed, both for Scotland and for us all.

John Gaffney is professor of politics at Aston University and co-director of the Aston Centre for Europe. He is currently completing a two-year study of UK political leadership, with a focus on the narrative of Ed Miliband’s leadership.

John Gaffney is the co-director of the Aston Centre for Europe, specialising in French politics and the discourse of leadership.

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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