It may take more than an angel. (Photo: Getty)
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It's regional inequality, stupid

Inequality within the United Kingdom is growing - not just between people, but its constituent parts. The next government will have to do more to turn the tide.

On a whole range of measures, Britain is more regionally divided than it was thirty years ago. The past five years have seen a re-assertion of this divide as nothing has been done to resolve the fundamental, deep-seated inequities between different parts of the UK. If we don’t do anything to address this in the coming five years, the whole country will lose out – not just those corners of our UK which are falling behind.  

These are the three core arguments which tie together all the contributions of a Unions 21 report on tackling regional inequalities, published today, which I have edited. A whole range of different authors – from think tanks, to other politicians and trade unionists - have produced chapters for it. It draws from new research on a range of Government statistics, as well as a Survation opinion poll specifically commissioned for this report, to inform its findings.

The results of Survation’s polling couldn’t be clearer: no matter where voters come from or what political party they support, more agree with the statement that “Britain is more regionally divided than it was thirty years ago” than disagree. This is particularly dramatic for Labour and UKIP supporters (57% of both agree with the statement) and northerners (53%). 

There is a strong feeling amongst much of the public that something has changed – and changed for the worse. The facts support their conclusions. The gulf in employment between southern regions of the UK and those further North (including the West Midlands), is higher than it was in the 1970s. OECD figures on growth in regional economies tell the same story: Britain had the highest rate of regional convergence compared with other OECD countries from 1950-1985, but since this point, Britain has seen the highest rate of regional divergence of all OECD member states.   

It’s easy to forget that back in the post-war period, London was not nearly the economic powerhouse it is today. Its population, like that of the northern industrial cities, was declining. It was only relatively recently, from the 1980s, that this trend reversed – but only in London. Hull, Manchester, Birmingham and Liverpool are still smaller than they used to be.

Roll the clock back further, into the 19th century, and the contrast becomes even starker. Industrial powerhouses, particularly concentrated in the north and midlands, accorded these regions a level of economic prosperity comparable to that of London and the South-East. This economic clout also translated into political power, and regional cities were, if anything, more autonomous than London. Birmingham of the 19th century had its own elected mayor in Joseph Chamberlain whilst London, governed by a weak network of antiquated boroughs, had no mayor, and was largely in thrall to central government.

It is almost a mirror image of modern-day England: in the 1980s, Britain was becoming more centralised just as other European countries were devolving further powers. ONS figures show that across the period 1977 to 1995, GDP per head actually declined in the East and West Midlands, North East, North West, Wales and Yorkshire & Humber.  New Labour reversed this downward spiral. We devolved unprecedented powers away from the capital, and people forget that by 2005, unemployment in northern regions had gone down to the national average of 5%.

Sadly, unemployment between the regions has once again diverged, and the revolution in devolution has still yet to be extended to the English regions. What progress that was made has proven all too easy to unravel, as not enough has been done to address some of the deep-seated inequities in Britain’s economy and society, too dependent as it is on service-led, City of London-led growth at the expense of manufacturing and apprenticeships.

The consequence is that some British regions were more vulnerable to the recession than others, and were hit much harder. Eurostat figures show that GDP per capita fell across the UK from 2008-2011 as the recession kicked in. But this decline wasn’t experienced equally between British regions (see below): GDP per capita declined relatively less in London and the South East than in Northern Ireland, Yorkshire & Humber or the West Midlands.

A future government needs to launch Britain into a broad-based recovery that lifts up all reaches of the country, and re-balances the economy. The coalition, despite their pronouncements to the contrary, have palpably failed in this objective.

Many regions have lost out in the apparent “recovery.” Across the UK as a whole, Gross Value Added (GVA) per capita declined in 2008, but recovered every year thereafter – it was therefore on an upward trajectory by the time the coalition came to office. Sadly, this increase has been concentrated in some regions more than others (see below). 

The past five years, in a nutshell, have seen a re-assertion of the historic divides between regions. Nothing has been done to tackle the fundamental, deep-seated inequities which are underpinning this regional divide.

The existence of such stark regional inequity should concern the whole country. The North’s problems, Wales’s problems and the South West’s problems are not parochial, regional issues – they are Britain’s problems too.

Some parts of the country have depressed, hollowed-out economies. They still haven’t recovered from industrial abandonment under Thatcher, and still have yet to discover a new economic purpose. Demand for their housing is low, and the number of new households is rising well below the national average. The proportion of empty homes in local areas illustrate this shift: the North-East has by far the highest proportion of empty homes of any region of the UK.

In other parts of the country, the cost of living is spiralling out of control. Masses of British graduates flood in to chase work opportunities, and they join migrant workers from every corner of the world – all push up the prices of rented housing and increase over-crowding and pressures on transport. Many (but by no means all) parts of London have this problem: the quality of life satisfaction of our capital’s residents is consistently below that of any other part of the UK.   

These twin problems surely cannot be seen in isolation: they are two sides of the same coin, and we can’t tackle one without the other. Indeed, so many of the problems which progressives have set themselves in tackling are intimately connected with regional inequality. A future Labour government, to stand any chance of addressing the inequality between rich and poor people, has to address the inequality between rich and poor regions.

Diana Johnson is the Labour MP for Hull North.

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Love a good box set? Then you should watch the Snooker World Championships

The game relies on a steady arm, which relies on a steady nerve. The result is a slow creeping tension needs time and space to be properly enjoyed and endured. 

People are lazy and people are impatient. This has always been so – just ask Moses or his rock – but as illustrated by kindly old Yahweh, in those days they could not simply answer those impulses and stroll on.

Nowadays, that is no longer so. Twitter, YouTube and listicles reflect a desire for complex and involved issues, expansive and nuanced sports – what we might term quality – to be condensed into easily digestible morsels for effort-free enjoyment.

There is, though, one notable exception to this trend: the box set. Pursuing a novelistic, literary sensibility, it credits its audience with the power of sentience and tells riveting stories slowly, unfolding things in whichever manner that it is best for them to unfold.

In the first episode of the first series of The Sopranos, we hear Tony demean his wife Carmela's irritation with him via the phrase “always with the drama”; in the seventh episode of the first series we see his mother do likewise to his father; and in the 21st and final episode of the sixth and final series, his son uses it on Carmela. It is precisely this richness and this care that makes The Sopranos not only the finest TV show ever made, but the finest artefact that contemporary society has to offer. It forces us to think, try and feel.

We have two principal methods of consuming art of this ilk - weekly episode, or week-long binge. The former allows for anticipation and contemplation, worthy pursuits both, but of an entirely different order to the immersion and obsession offered by the latter. Who, when watching the Wire, didn’t find themselves agreeing that trudat, it's time to reup the dishwasher salt, but we’ve run out, ain’t no thing. Losing yourself in another world is rare, likewise excitement at where your mind is going next.

In a sporting context, this can only be achieved via World Championship snooker. Because snooker is a simple, repetitive game, it is absorbing very quickly, its run of play faithfully reflected by the score.

But the Worlds are special. The first round is played over ten frames – as many as the final in the next most prestigious competition – and rather than the usual week, it lasts for 17 magical days, from morning until night. This bestows upon us the opportunity to, figuratively at least, put away our lives and concentrate. Of course, work and family still exist, but only in the context of the snooker and without anything like the same intensity. There is no joy on earth like watching the BBC’s shot of the championship compilation to discover that not only did you see most of them live, but that you have successfully predicted the shortlist.

It is true that people competing at anything provides compelling drama, emotion, pathos and bathos - the Olympics proves this every four years. But there is something uniquely nourishing about longform snooker, which is why it has sustained for decades without significant alteration.

The game relies on a steady arm, which relies on a steady nerve. The result is a slow creeping tension needs time and space to be properly enjoyed and endured. Most frequently, snooker is grouped with darts as a non-athletic sport, instead testing fine motor skills and the ability to calculate angles, velocity and forthcoming shots. However, its tempo and depth is more similar to Test cricket – except snooker trusts so much in its magnificence that it refuses to compromise the values which underpin it.

Alfred Hitchcock once explained that if two people are talking and a bomb explodes without warning, it constitutes surprise; but if two people are talking and all the while a ticking bomb is visible under the table, it constitutes suspense. “In these conditions,” he said, “The same innocuous conversation becomes fascinating because the public is participating in the scene. The audience is longing to warn the characters on the screen: ‘You shouldn't be talking about such trivial matters. There is a bomb beneath you and it is about to explode!’”

Such is snooker. In more or less every break, there will at some point be at least one difficult shot, loss of position or bad contact – and there will always be pressure. Add to that the broken flow of things – time spent waiting for the balls to stop, time spent prowling around the table, time spent sizing up the table, time spent cleaning the white, time spent waiting for a turn – and the ability for things to go wrong is constantly in contemplation.

All the more so in Sheffield’s Crucible Theatre. This venue, in its 40th year of hosting the competition, is elemental to its success. Place is crucial to storytelling, and even the word “Crucible” – whether “a ceramic or metal container in which metals or other substances may be melted or subjected to very high temperatures,” “a situation of severe trial”, or Arthur Miller’s searing play – conjures images of destruction, injustice and nakedness. And the actual Crucible is perhaps the most atmospheric arena in sport - intimate, quiet, and home to a legendarily knowledgeable audience, able to calculate when a player has secured a frame simply by listening to commentary through an earpiece and applauding as soon as the information is communicated to them.

To temper the stress, snooker is also something incredibly comforting. This is partly rooted in its scheduling. Working day and late-night sport is illicit and conspiratorial, while its presence in revision season has entire cohorts committing to “just one more quick frame”, and “just one more quick spliff”. But most powerfully of all, world championship snooker triggers memory and nostalgia, a rare example of something that hasn’t changed, as captivating now as it was in childhood.

This wistfulness is complemented by sensory pleasure of the lushest order. The colours of both baize and balls are the brightest, most engaging iterations imaginable, while the click of cue on ball, the clunk of ball on ball and the clack of ball on pocket is deep and musical; omnipresent and predictable, they combine for a soundtrack that one might play to a baby in the womb, instead of whale music or Megadeth.

Repeating rhythms are also set by the commentators, former players of many years standing. As is natural with extended coverage of repetitive-action games, there are numerous phrases that recur:

“We all love these tactical frames, but the players are so good nowadays that one mistake and your opponent’s in, so here he is, looking to win the frame at one visit ... and it’s there, right in the heart of the pocket for frame and match! But where’s the cue ball going! it really is amazing what can happen in the game of snooker, especially when we’re down to this one-table situation.”

But as omniscient narrators, the same men also provide actual insight, alerting us to options and eventualities of which we would otherwise be ignorant. Snooker is a simple game but geometry and physics are complicated, so an expert eye is required to explain them intelligibly; it is done with a winning combination of levity and sincerity.

The only essential way in which snooker is different is the standard of play. The first round of this year’s draw featured eight past winners, only two of whom have made it to the last four, and there were three second-round games that were plausible finals.

And just as literary fiction is as much about character as plot, so too is snooker. Nothing makes you feel you know someone like studying them over years at moments of elation and desolation, pressure and release, punctuated by TV confessions of guilty pleasures, such as foot massages, and bucket list contents, such as naked bungee jumping.

It is probably true that there are not as many “characters” in the game as once there were, but there are just as many characters, all of whom are part of that tradition. And because players play throughout their adult life, able to establish their personalities, in unforgiving close-up, over a number of years, they need not be bombastic to tell compelling stories, growing and undergoing change in the same way as Dorothea Brooke or Paulie Gualtieri.

Of no one is this more evident that Ding Junhui, runner-up last year and current semi-finalist this; though he is only 30, we have been watching him almost half his life. In 2007, he reached the final of the Masters tournament, in which he faced Ronnie O’Sullivan, the most naturally talented player ever to pick up a cue – TMNTPETPUAC for short. The crowd were, to be charitable, being boisterous, and to be honest, being pricks, and at the same time, O’Sullivan was playing monumentally well. So at the mid-session interval, Ding left the arena in tears and O’Sullivan took his arm in consolation; then when Ding beat O’Sullivan in this year’s quarter-final, he rested his head on O’Sullivan’s shoulder and exchanged words of encouragement for words of respect. It was beautiful, it was particular, and it was snooker.

Currently, Ding trails Mark Selby, the “Jester from Leicester” – a lucky escape, considering other rhyming nouns - in their best of 33 encounter. Given a champion poised to move from defending to dominant, the likelihood is that Ding will remain the best player never to win the game’s biggest prize for another year.

Meanwhile, the other semi-final pits Barry Hawkins, a finalist in 2013, against John Higgins, an undisputed great and three-time champion. Higgins looks likely to progress, and though whoever wins through will be an outsider, both are eminently capable of taking the title. Which is to say that, this weekend, Planet Earth has no entertainment more thrilling, challenging and enriching than events at the Crucible Theatre, Sheffield.

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