Conservative cabinet ministers at the party's press conference at Millbank this afternoon. Photograph: Getty Images.
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The trap the Tories have set for Labour on cuts

Osborne's claim of a "blackhole" in Miliband's plans is forcing his party to shout louder about its commitment to continued austerity. 

The sight of five cabinet ministers (George Osborne, William Hague, Theresa May, Nicky Morgan and Sajid Javid) taking the stage at the Tories' first press conference of this election year was a rather odd one. As I noted on Twitter, it looked like a leadership hustings with Boris strangely absent, or the reformation of an aged pop group. But the quintet were all unambiguously singing from the same hymn sheet. The choice, we were repeatedly told, was between Tory "competence" and Labour "chaos", between sticking to "our long-term economic plan", or returning to "the mess" of 2010. 

The event was held to mark the launch of the Conservatives' attack dossier on the opposition's spending plans. The 82-page document (decked out in Budget red to lend it spurious authority) claimed to have uncovered a £20.7bn black hole in Labour's programme (alleging £23.26bn of spending commitments against £2.52bn of cuts/tax rises). But it quickly began to unravel under the mildest of scrutiny. As several journalists noted during the Q&A, the document falsely equates criticism of cuts with a commitment to reverse them. For instance, nowhere has Labour suggested that it will cancel £3.35bn of local authority cuts, or £83m of Arts Council funding reductions. 

But Javid, the Tories' attack dog of choice, had a ready response: "If Labour thinks that we're wrong in asserting this, then it's up to them to come out today and they can say 'We will not reverse those cuts.'" This the Labour press team promptly did, tweeting that "p.44 of Tory dossier says Labour will cancel cuts to the arts budget. We won't." The rapid rebuttal allows Labour to claim that its plans are fully costed and credible (as the IFS has said) but at the cost of reminding voters of its commitment to continued austerity. In short, "We didn't like the cuts, we attacked the cuts, but we're going to have to keep them." 

This frugal stance opens up political space for the SNP and the Greens, both having recently eaten into Labour's left-wing support. The dilemma that the party faces is between appearing less credible than it would like or more austere than it would like. At the briefing that followed, an Osborne aide declared satisfiedly: "If they want to pull out other examples and say 'That's not our policy' that is going to cause them massive problems." 

The Tories are not short of their own problems. When challenged on how they would pay for their promise of £7.2bn of tax cuts, Osborne merely asserted that his cuts were forecast to produce a surplus of £23bn. But having pledged in 2010 to all but eliminate the deficit and ended up only halving it (and even then only as a share of GDP), why should we take his word for it? Javid fared even worse on The World At One when he conceded that the Tories hadn't "spelt out" how they would afford the planned tax cuts. But their wager (and it may prove right) remains that their poll lead on economic credibility is so great as to allow them to play faster and looser than Labour. In the meantime, they can be reasonably satisfied with forcing the opposition onto the mine-laden pitch of austerity. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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Why is it called Storm Doris? The psychological impact of naming a storm

“Homes being destroyed and lives being lost shouldn’t be named after any person.”

“Oh, piss off Doris,” cried the nation in unison this morning. No, it wasn't that everyone's local cantankerous old lady had thwacked our ankles with her stick. This is a different, more aggressive Doris. Less Werther’s, more extreme weathers. Less bridge club, more bridge collapse.

This is Storm Doris.

A storm that has brought snow, rain, and furious winds up to 94mph to parts of the UK. There are severe weather warnings of wind, snow and ice across the entire country.

But the real question here is: why is it called that? And what impact does the new Met Office policy of naming storms have on us?

Why do we name storms?

Storm Doris is the latest protagonist in the Met Office’s decision to name storms, a pilot scheme introduced in winter 2015/16 now in its second year.

The scheme was introduced to draw attention to severe weather conditions in Britain, and raise awareness of how to prepare for them.

How do we name storms?

The Name our Storms initiative invites the public to suggest names for storms. You can do this by tweeting the @metoffice using the #nameourstorms hashtag and your suggestion, through its Facebook page, or by emailing them.

These names are collated along with suggestions from Met Éireann and compiled into a list. These are whittled down into 21 names, according to which were most suggested – in alphabetical order and alternating between male and female names. This is done according to the US National Hurricane Naming convention, which excludes the letters Q, U, X, Y and Z because there are thought to be too few common names beginning with these letters.

They have to be human names, which is why suggestions in this list revealed by Wired – including Apocalypse, Gnasher, Megatron, In A Teacup (or Ena Tee Cup) – were rejected. The Met Office received 10,000 submissions for the 2016/17 season. According to a spokesperson, a lot of people submit their own names.

Only storms that could have a “medium” or “high” wind impact in the UK and Ireland are named. If there are more than 21 storms in a year, then the naming system starts from Alpha and goes through the Greek alphabet.

The names for this year are: Angus (19-20 Nov ’16), Barbara (23-24 Dec 2016), Conor (25-26 Dec 2016), Doris (now), Ewan, Fleur, Gabriel, Holly, Ivor, Jacqui, Kamil, Louise, Malcolm, Natalie, Oisín, Penelope, Robert, Susan, Thomas, Valerie and Wilbert.

Why does this violent storm have the name of an elderly lady?

Doris is an incongruous name for this storm, so why was it chosen? A Met Office spokesperson says they were just at that stage in their list of names, and there’s no link between the nature of the storm and its name.

But do people send cosy names for violent weather conditions on purpose? “There’s all sorts in there,” a spokesperson tells me. “People don’t try and use cosy names as such.”

What psychological impact does naming storms have on us?

We know that giving names to objects and animals immediately gives us a human connection with them. That’s why we name things we feel close to: a pet owner names their cat, a sailor names their boat, a bore names their car. We even name our virtual assistants –from Microsoft’s Clippy to Amazon’s Alexa.

This gives us a connection beyond practicality with the thing we’ve named.

Remember the response of Walter Palmer, the guy who killed Cecil the Lion? “If I had known this lion had a name and was important to the country or a study, obviously I wouldn’t have taken it,” he said. “Nobody in our hunting party knew before or after the name of this lion.”

So how does giving a storm a name change our attitude towards it?

Evidence suggests that we take it more seriously – or at least pay closer attention. A YouGov survey following the first seven named storms in the Met Office’s scheme shows that 55 per cent of the people polled took measures to prepare for wild weather after hearing that the oncoming storm had been named.

“There was an immediate acceptance of the storm names through all media,” said Gerald Fleming, Head of Forecasting at Met Éireann, the Irish metereological service. “The severe weather messages were more clearly communicated.”

But personalising a storm can backfire. A controversial US study in 2014 by PNAC (Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences) claimed that hurricanes with female names lead to higher death tolls – the more “feminine” the name, like Belle or Cindy, the higher the death toll. This is not because female names are attached to more severe storms; it is reportedly because people take fewer steps to prepare for storms with names they perceive to be unintimidating or weak.

“In judging the intensity of a storm, people appear to be applying their beliefs about how men and women behave,” Sharon Shavitt, a co-author of the study, told the FT at the time. “This makes a female-named hurricane . . . seem gentler and less violent.”

Names have social connotations, and affect our subconscious. Naming a storm can raise awareness of it, but it can also affect our behaviour towards it.

What’s it like sharing a name with a deadly storm?

We should also spare a thought for the impact sharing a name with a notorious weather event can have on a person. Katrina Nicholson, a nurse who lives in Glasgow, says it was “horrible” when the 2005 hurricane – one of the fifth deadliest ever in the US – was given her name.

“It was horrible having something so destructive associated with my name. Homes being destroyed and lives being lost shouldn’t be named after any person,” she tells me over email. “I actually remember at the time meeting an American tourist on a boat trip in Skye and when he heard my name he immediately linked it to the storm – although he quickly felt guilty and then said it was a lovely name! I think to this day there will be many Americans who hate my name because of it.”

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.