Ed Balls received a mixed reaction to his pro-EU speech. Photo: Getty
Show Hide image

Ed Balls: "EU exit is the biggest risk to our economy in the next decade"

The shadow chancellor is forthright in his pro-EU membership stance, but how do British businesses feel about this?

I fear that Britain walking out of the EU is the biggest risk to our economy in the next decade. EU exit risks British jobs, trade and investment and the future prosperity of the UK. That is the message I hear from businesses across the country week in week out.

This was Ed Balls’ message in his speech to the BCC (British Chambers of Commerce) conference today.

His firm stance against an EU referendum came in spite of calls from John Longworth – director general of the organisation that represents 92,000 businesses of all sizes across the country – to bring an EU referendum forward to 2016.

Longworth’s urge for government to call the Tories’ promised 2017 referendum a year early is a blow to Labour during a period when it is being attacked from all sides for being anti-enterprise. Its refusal to promise an EU referendum is its key trump card when appealing to British businesses.

To have high-profile business leaders backing an EU referendum – albeit an early one – undermines its unique selling point as the only main party to stand against a vote on our EU membership.

Yet Balls today stood firm in his stance, insisting “we shouldn’t flirt with an exit”, and warning against “setting an arbitrary timetable for a quick referendum”.

He cautioned that, “businesses are deferring and delaying big decisions because of these uncertainties [caused by the prospect of an EU referendum]”, when questioned about the lack of a drop in inward investment since David Cameron promised a referendum. During the Q+A following his speech, he added, “the threat of leaving the EU is the biggest risk” to jobs and investment in Britain this decade.

His announcements provoked a mixed reaction in the audience of business leaders and representatives.

“There was nothing new,” one medium business employer tells me. “We’ve seen it all before, it’s pretty much the same as everything we’ve heard from him before.”

His colleague adds, “It’s all about uncertainty. Without promising a referendum there is still uncertainty, so it’s still uncertain whether they’ll have one or not.”

A group of businesspeople running a small enterprise in the north of England praise the priority Balls is giving to apprenticeships, but are unsure whether his stance against an EU referendum is constructive:

 “You shouldn’t have a referendum if you’re fearful that we’ll be voted out, but I think the English public will vote to stay in. It will be like Scotland; Joe Public will value being part of the EU, you’ve got to trust the public.”

Yet his colleague adds, “I think we need a longer-term view, I think it’s too quick to say let’s call a vote, stay in, sort it out – it’s far too quick.”

One man who runs a small accountancy practice in London is cautiously optimistic about Balls’ commitment to the EU, though is critical of Labour’s communication of this message:

“The dedication to Europe is important. Our clients all have to have Britain in the EU; it would be suicidal for small businesses for agreeing to leave the EU. It’s the only way people will invest.

“Balls’ comments on Europe were good, but not very concrete. His speech wasn’t particularly inspiration, he trotted out a few mediocre well-worn lines, we’ve heard a few of them before. So the support for Europe is there, but they’re not in power, and it’s early days.”

A couple of policy advisers to a big UK firm tell me, “Balls’ message seemed OK, but it’s exactly what you’d expect to hear from him. We have mixed views in our company in that if you call a referendum there is a risk it might go the wrong way, particularly when the newspapers start picking up all the nonsense. Ultimately it’s probably the best approach to oppose a referendum.”

The overriding atmosphere seems to be respect for the shadow chancellor sticking to his opposition to an EU referendum, but an insistence that he conveys that message in a fresh, passionate way, in order to cut through to the public.

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.

Getty
Show Hide image

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.