Ed Miliband addresses an audience on the NHS in the Brooks Building of Manchester Metropolitan University. Photograph: Getty Images.
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Even if Miliband is a second-placed prime minister, it would still be a victory for Labour to savour

Were the Labour leader to take power it would be a triumph for parliamentary democracy against the elite. 

Before the 1997 election, Roy Jenkins compared Tony Blair to a man carrying a priceless Ming vase across a highly polished floor. Ed Miliband has no such precious artefact. If he does enter office, it will be without a majority, let alone Blair’s glistening 179. But the analogy captures the comparable sense of anxiety in Labour today. Shadow cabinet members concede that even they have been surprised by how well they have fared to date. The party has proved resilient against the Conservative onslaught on Miliband and its economic credibility. The Labour leader, who a year ago lost his fight with a bacon sandwich, has been mobbed by a hen party on the campaign trail. Barring a significant shift in the polls, he will become prime minister after 7 May. It is this that explains Labour’s creeping nervousness. Despite the Conservatives’ deeper coffers and media firepower, the prize is “ours to lose”, in the words of one shadow cabinet minister.

The prospect of short-circuiting Labour history by returning to power after just one term, however, is marred by the knowledge that it is unlikely to be a clean victory. The forecasts that show Miliband heading towards No 10 do so only on the assumption that he would secure the support of the SNP in a hung parliament.

It is this that the Tories are exploiting mercilessly. Conservative strategists believe the message that the SNP would hold the whip hand over Labour is potent enough to attract the Ukip defectors and southern Lib Dems whom they have yet to persuade. David Cameron’s warning that English hospitals would be starved of funds and bypasses would remain unbuilt was a mark of the demagogic lengths that the Tories are prepared to go to. Such is the extent to which the Tories have talked up the SNP that it is easy to forget that they are running candidates in each of Scotland’s 59 seats.

Conservatives question both the morality and the efficacy of this ploy (one MP tells me that it is “crowding out” the party’s positive economic message). Yet it has discomfited Labour. For the first time since the campaign began, the party unambiguously lost the “air war” as broadcasters prioritised the Tories’ anti-SNP blitzkrieg over Labour’s “NHS week”. Candidates from all parties testify that the theme has entered popular conversation. Miliband has ruled out a coalition with the SNP but has stopped short of rejecting any arrangement for fear of de­legitimising the Scottish voters who only recently resolved to remain part of the UK.

“If you hold the balance, then you hold the power,” Alex Salmond has declared, a grandiose aphorism repeatedly cited by Cameron. The leverage the SNP would enjoy is not as strong as suggested. The natural pro-Trident majority across the three main parties would prevent the Nationalists from threatening Britain’s nuclear weapons. They could vote down Labour Budgets but only at the cost of allying with the Tories and obstructing measures endorsed in their manifesto such as the repeal of the bedroom tax and the reintroduction of a 50p income-tax rate. Yet, since the party’s overriding goal is an independent Scotland, it has less reason to fear policies being blocked by a Westminster system that is apparently impervious to change.

The Tories’ new strategy may still fail to give them the seats they need to govern. Every constituency that the SNP wins off the Lib Dems and every one that the Conservatives take from their coalition partners reduces the bloc of potential supporters available to Cameron in lieu of a Tory majority. Labour may still secure the 43 gains it requires from the Conservatives to be the single largest party in the event that it loses all 40 of its Scottish MPs to the Nationalists. But even if Miliband falls short, he could emerge as the only leader capable of assembling the 323 votes needed to prevail in the Commons. It is this that creates the possibility that, for the first time since 1924, the party that finishes second not merely on votes (as Labour did in February 1974 and the Tories did in 1951) but on seats could form the government. Miliband could face the nightmare scenario of what one MP describes as “dual illegitimacy”: depending on the votes of a nationalist party to pass English-only legislation (a two-fingered answer to the West Lothian Question) and ruling as runners-up rather than victors.

Though politically treacherous, there is no constitutional obstacle to Labour taking power in these circumstances. An administration would have to be formed eventually and the party could point to European examples (such as Willy Brandt in Germany and Fredrik Reinfeldt in Sweden) of second-placed leaders assuming office. The resultant government would be denounced as “un-British” and “unfair” – but so was the coalition, by some. It would be up to Miliband to earn political legitimacy swiftly by introducing popular policies and radiating competence. After the painful birth, the fate of his government would ultimately rest, as all do, on the performance of the economy and the success of its reforms.

There is fear among some Labour MPs that the 2015 election could be a victory (or non-victory) from which they never recover. They envisage a later election in which Ukip erodes the party’s working-class base, the Greens capture its middle-class redoubts and the resurgent Conservatives (led by Boris Johnson or Theresa May) eat into both. But for Miliband to become prime minister, having repeatedly been told by so many that he could not, would still be a victory for Labour to savour. He would have entered office despite the overwhelming opposition of the media and the corporate sector, the forces regarded since the Thatcher era as exercising a de facto veto over British elections. Whether Miliband finishes first or second, parliamentary democracy will have won.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 24 April 2015 issue of the New Statesman, What does England want?

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The deafening killer - why noise will be the next great pollution scandal

A growing body of evidence shows that noise can have serious health impacts too. 

Our cities are being poisoned by a toxin that surrounds us day and night. It eats away at our brains, hurts our hearts, clutches at our sleep, and gnaws at the quality of our daily lives.

Hardly a silent killer, it gets short shrift compared to the well-publicised terrors of air pollution and sugars food. It is the dull, thumping, stultifying drum-beat of perpetual noise.

The score that accompanies city life is brutal and constant. It disrupts the everyday: The coffee break ruined by the screech of a line of double decker buses braking at the lights. The lawyer’s conference call broken by drilling as she makes her way to the office. The writer’s struggle to find a quiet corner to pen his latest article.

For city-dwellers, it’s all-consuming and impossible to avoid. Construction, traffic, the whirring of machinery, the neighbour’s stereo. Even at home, the beeps and buzzes made by washing machines, fridges, and phones all serve to distract and unsettle.

But the never-ending noisiness of city life is far more than a problem of aesthetics. A growing body of evidence shows that noise can have serious health impacts too. Recent studies have linked noise pollution to hearing loss, sleep deprivation, hypertension, heart disease, brain development, and even increased risk of dementia.

One research team compared families living on different stories of the same building in Manhattan to isolate the impact of noise on health and education. They found children in lower, noisier floors were worse at reading than their higher-up peers, an effect that was most pronounced for children who had lived in the building for longest.

Those studies have been replicated for the impact of aircraft noise with similar results. Not only does noise cause higher blood pressure and worsens quality of sleep, it also stymies pupils trying to concentrate in class.

As with many forms of pollution, the poorest are typically the hardest hit. The worst-off in any city often live by busy roads in poorly-insulated houses or flats, cheek by jowl with packed-in neighbours.

The US Department of Transport recently mapped road and aircraft noise across the United States. Predictably, the loudest areas overlapped with some of the country’s most deprived. Those included the south side of Atlanta and the lowest-income areas of LA and Seattle.

Yet as noise pollution grows in line with road and air traffic and rising urban density, public policy has turned a blind eye.

Council noise response services, formally a 24-hour defence against neighbourly disputes, have fallen victim to local government cuts. Decisions on airport expansion and road development pay scant regard to their audible impact. Political platforms remain silent on the loudest poison.

This is odd at a time when we have never had more tools at our disposal to deal with the issue. Electric Vehicles are practically noise-less, yet noise rarely features in the arguments for their adoption. Just replacing today’s bus fleet would transform city centres; doing the same for taxis and trucks would amount to a revolution.

Vehicles are just the start. Millions were spent on a programme of “Warm Homes”; what about “Quiet Homes”? How did we value the noise impact in the decision to build a third runway at Heathrow, and how do we compensate people now that it’s going ahead?

Construction is a major driver of decibels. Should builders compensate “noise victims” for over-drilling? Or could regulation push equipment manufacturers to find new ways to dampen the sound of their kit?

Of course, none of this addresses the noise pollution we impose on ourselves. The bars and clubs we choose to visit or the music we stick in our ears. Whether pumping dance tracks in spin classes or indie rock in trendy coffee shops, people’s desire to compensate for bad noise out there by playing louder noise in here is hard to control for.

The Clean Air Act of 1956 heralded a new era of city life, one where smog and grime gave way to clear skies and clearer lungs. That fight still goes on today.

But some day, we will turn our attention to our clogged-up airwaves. The decibels will fall. #Twitter will give way to twitter. And every now and again, as we step from our homes into city life, we may just hear the sweetest sound of all. Silence.

Adam Swersky is a councillor in Harrow and is cabinet member for finance. He writes in a personal capacity.