David Cameron and Nick Clegg address a press conference at 10 Downing Street on July 10, 2014. Photograph: Getty Images.
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How the Lib Dems' attacks on the Tories help Labour

The two-against-one dynamic harms the Tories while exposing Clegg's party to the charge of hypocrisy. 

In the early months of the coalition, Labour figures frequently lamented the two-against-one dynamic that allowed the Tories and the Lib Dems to pin the blame for the financial crisis on them. The argument that it was overspending by the last government that "got us into this mess" gained credibility by being made by both parties. 

In recent days, it has felt as if this dynamic has been reversed. Nick Clegg and Danny Alexander have sounded like opposition politicians as they have accused the Tories of planning to "inflict unnecessary pain" on the country (Alexander) and of "kidding" voters over the feasibility of their deficit reduction plan (Clegg). After the Autumn Statement, and just five months away from the election, the Lib Dems are seeking to differentiate themselves from the Conservatives in two respects: their willingness to impose tax rises on the wealthy to eliminate the remainder of the deficit, rather than cuts alone, and their preparedness to borrow for investment. Both of these stances are shared by Labour, which has also pledged to introduce a mansion tax on properties above £2m and has left room for deficit-funded capital spending. 

Although there are differences with Ed Miliband's party too - the Lib Dems would follow the Tories in eliminating the structural current deficit by 2017-18, rather than by "the end of the next parliament" - Clegg is focusing on distinguishing his party from the Conservatives. There is a specific psephological reason for this. Of the Lib Dems' 56 seats, the Conservatives are in second place in 37. To hold on to these constituencies, the party needs to focus on winning tactical votes from left-leaning Labour and Green supporters (as it has done in the past). By talking up the dangers of a future Tory government, it hopes to persuade progressive voters that the safest option is to vote Lib Dem.

There are two important ways in which this helps Labour. The first is that the party's positions gain greater credibility by being supported by the Lib Dems. It is harder for the Tories to dismiss Labour's economic stances as nonsense when they are endorsed by the people they have been in government with for more than four years. When the Conservatives refuse to introduce any further tax rises on the wealthy and reject calls to borrow to invest in housing, they look like the odd ones out. Moderate Tory MPs have long complained that the Lib Dems have "retoxified" their brand by taking credit for the "nice" things the government has done and blaming them for the "nasty" things. 

The second is that the Lib Dems' attacks on their coalition partners expose them to the charge of hypocrisy and inconsistency (one swiftly made by George Osborne yesterday). When Clegg's party complains about the "unncessary pain" planned by the Conservatives, Labour will remind voters that they supported the bedroom tax, the tripling of tuition fees and the top-down reorganisation of the NHS. If the Tories are as nasty as the Lib Dems suggest, why vote for the people who have sat in cabinet with them since 2010?

It is this argument that troubles Lib Dems such as Jeremy Browne, who argue that Clegg has made a dangerous error by distancing the Lib Dems from the government (for instance through his absence at last week's Autumn Statement). Rather than attacking the Tories, they argue that the party should devote more time to claiming credit for the coalition's achievements. Browne told the Huffington Post that the "biggest danger for the Lib Dems is having one foot in government, and one foot out" and warned against moving from "being a party of protest to a party of protest-in-government." It is notable that, far from recovering in the polls, the Lib Dems have lost further support since embarking on "aggressive differentiation" from the Tories. Based on the results so far, Labour should hope that it long continues. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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For the first time in my life I have a sworn enemy – and I don’t even know her name

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

Last month, I made an enemy. I do not say this lightly, and I certainly don’t say it with pride, as a more aggressive male might. Throughout my life I have avoided confrontation with a scrupulousness that an unkind observer would call out-and-out cowardice. A waiter could bring the wrong order, cold and crawling with maggots, and in response to “How is everything?” I’d still manage a grin and a “lovely, thanks”.

On the Underground, I’m so wary of being a bad citizen that I often give up my seat to people who aren’t pregnant, aren’t significantly older than me, and in some cases are far better equipped to stand than I am. If there’s one thing I am not, it’s any sort of provocateur. And yet now this: a feud.

And I don’t even know my enemy’s name.

She was on a bike when I accidentally entered her life. I was pushing a buggy and I wandered – rashly, in her view – into her path. There’s little doubt that I was to blame: walking on the road while in charge of a minor is not something encouraged by the Highway Code. In my defence, it was a quiet, suburban street; the cyclist was the only vehicle of any kind; and I was half a street’s length away from physically colliding with her. It was the misjudgment of a sleep-deprived parent rather than an act of malice.

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

I was stung by what someone on The Apprentice might refer to as her negative feedback, and walked on with a redoubled sense of the parental inadequacy that is my default state even at the best of times.

A sad little incident, but a one-off, you would think. Only a week later, though, I was walking in a different part of town, this time without the toddler and engrossed in my phone. Again, I accept my culpability in crossing the road without paying due attention; again, I have to point out that it was only a “close shave” in the sense that meteorites are sometimes reported to have “narrowly missed crashing into the Earth” by 50,000 miles. It might have merited, at worst, a reproving ting of the bell. Instead came a familiar voice. “IT’S YOU AGAIN!” she yelled, wrathfully.

This time the shock brought a retort out of me, probably the harshest thing I have ever shouted at a stranger: “WHY ARE YOU SO UNPLEASANT?”

None of this is X-rated stuff, but it adds up to what I can only call a vendetta – something I never expected to pick up on the way to Waitrose. So I am writing this, as much as anything, in the spirit of rapprochement. I really believe that our third meeting, whenever it comes, can be a much happier affair. People can change. Who knows: maybe I’ll even be walking on the pavement

Mark Watson is a stand-up comedian and novelist. His most recent book, Crap at the Environment, follows his own efforts to halve his carbon footprint over one year.

This article first appeared in the 20 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Brothers in blood