Vince Cable attends Liberal Democrat conference. Photo:Getty Images
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David Cameron can't keep blaming it all on the Liberal Democrats

Now he doesn't have those pesky Liberal Democrats to blame, David Cameron will soon find that his migration policies are a political and legal headache. 

So was it all Vince Cable’s fault? The latest figures show that the Government has once again missed its net migration target by a mile. The figures for net migration – the difference between immigration and emigration – for 2014 are more than three times David Cameron’s original target of net migration in the ‘tens of thousands’. But, listening to Cameron’s speech today, you could be forgiven for thinking that the failure of the Coalition Government’s net migration target could be pinned squarely on Lib Dem intransigence. Now, with a majority Conservative government, Cameron argued that he could put in place the reforms needed to get net migration down, to be set out in a new Immigration bill in the Queen’s Speech.

The truth is that, without the Lib Dems, the new government will still struggle to meet the net migration target – or its ‘ambition’, as it was referred to in the Conservative manifesto. There are three sets of measures the Prime Minister wants to pursue: a crackdown on illegal immigration; a renewed effort to support British people into employment (with an echo of Gordon Brown’s ‘British jobs for British workers’); and reforms to European freedom of movement through negotiations with the rest of the EU.

But none of these efforts are likely to have a significant impact on net migration. First, the vast majority of individuals making up the inward migration figures have a legal right to stay in the UK, so addressing illegal immigration is a red herring. Second, while some of Cameron’s efforts to support training and skills policy and address the exploitation of migrant workers are sensible, there is little evidence to suggest this will have a serious impact on numbers, at least in the short term, as they will not seriously deter most businesses from hiring migrant labour.

Third, Cameron’s efforts to achieve reforms to the benefit rules for migrants through EU negotiations will be a political and legal headache, particularly his proposed changes to in-work benefits, which will most likely require treaty change. Cameron will need all 27 other member states to agree to any treaty change – and it will be especially challenging to get Eastern European countries on board.

But, even if he does achieve welfare reforms there is little to suggest this will transform the net migration figures. The data suggests that EU nationals are less likely than average to claim unemployment benefits and only very slightly more likely than average to claim in-work benefits. There is some evidence to suggest that welfare states provision is one possible ‘pull factor’ for migrants, but decisions to migrate are influenced by a range of factors – including, crucially for the UK, shared language and a flexible labour market. It seems unlikely then that significant numbers of EU nationals will choose to not migrate to the UK on the basis of a change to the benefits/tax credits system.

Apart from these individual measures, there are structural challenges involved in achieving the net migration target – the UK’s relatively strong economy, flexible labour market, and linguistic and cultural connections will continue to make it an attractive place to come to. Even without the Lib Dems in government, departments are unlikely to want to cut their nose of to spite their face by drastically reducing skilled migrant labour from outside the EU. On top of this, even if there is a dip in net migration, it’s unlikely to last for long, due to the phenomenon of the “net migration bounce”: because migrants often leave Britain after a few years, fewer migrants coming here means fewer migrants leaving too. So a drop in migration to Britain would most likely lead to a drop in emigration as well – and consequently an increase in net immigration over time.

What does this all mean for the government? Rather than focusing relentlessly on the mirage of the net migration target, we need to do more to support communities affected by large increases in inward migration. In order to address public concerns practically and responsible, much more needs to be done to address the pressures of immigration, including on schools, GP places and housing, as well as on social cohesion.

The government’s commitment to a new fund to support communities most affected by high migration is an excellent first step that IPPR has advocated. There is a danger, though, that the fund is misused. In their manifesto, the Conservatives highlighted that the new ‘Controlling Migration Fund’ would be used to ‘ease pressures on services and to pay for additional immigration enforcement’. If the government wants to get serious about tackling the impact of migration, the fund should not simply be a cover for further enforcement efforts. This – not the net migration ambition – should be the real focus for migration policy over the next Parliament.

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Brexit confusion is scuppering my show – what next?

My week, from spinning records with Baconface, Brexit block and visiting comedy graves.

I am a stand-up comedian, and I am in the process of previewing a new live show, which I hope to tour until early 2018. It was supposed to be about how the digital, free-market society is reshaping the idea of the individual, but we are in the pre-Brexit events whirlpool, and there has never been a worse time to try to assemble a show that will still mean anything in 18 months’ time.



A joke written six weeks ago about dep­orting eastern Europeans, intended to be an exaggeration for comic effect, suddenly just reads like an Amber Rudd speech – or, as James O’Brien pointed out on LBC, an extract from Mein Kampf.

A rude riff on Sarah Vine and 2 Girls 1 Cup runs aground because there are fewer people now who remember Vine than recall the briefly notorious Brazilian video clip. I realise that something that gets a cheer on a Tuesday in Harrogate, or Glasgow, or Oxford, could get me lynched the next night in Lincoln. Perhaps I’ll go into the fruit-picking business. I hear there’s about to be some vacancies.



I sit and stare at blocks of text, wondering how to knit them into a homogeneous whole. But it’s Sunday afternoon, a time for supervising homework and finding sports kit. My 11-year-old daughter has a school project on the Victorians and she has decided to do it on dead 19th-century comedians, as we had recently been on a Music Hall Guild tour of their graves at the local cemetery. I wonder if, secretly, she wished I would join them.

I have found living with the background noise of this project depressing. The headstones that she photographed show that most of the performers – even the well-known Champagne Charlie – barely made it past 40, while the owners of the halls outlived them. Herbert Campbell’s obelisk is vast and has the word “comedian” written on it in gold leaf, but it’s in the bushes and he is no longer remembered. Neither are many of the acts I loved in the 1980s – Johnny Immaterial, Paul Ramone, the Iceman.



I would have liked to do some more work on the live show but, one Monday a month, I go to the studios of the largely volunteer-run arts radio station Resonance FM in Borough, south London. Each Wednesday night at 11pm, the masked Canadian stand-up comedian Baconface presents selections from his late brother’s collection of 1950s, 1960s and 1970s jazz, psychedelia, folk, blues and experimental music. I go in to help him pre-record the programmes.

Baconface is a fascinating character, whom I first met at the Cantaloupes Comedy Club in Kamloops in British Columbia in 1994. He sees the radio show as an attempt to atone for his part in his brother’s death, which was the result of a prank gone wrong involving nudity and bacon, though he is often unable to conceal his contempt for the music that he is compelled to play.

The show is recorded in a small, hot room and Baconface doesn’t change the bacon that his mask is made of very often, so the experience can be quite claustrophobic. Whenever we lose tapes or the old vinyl is too warped to play, he just sits back and utters his resigned, philosophical catchphrase, “It’s all bacon!” – which I now find myself using, as I watch the news, with ­depressing regularity.



After the kids go to sleep, I sit up alone and finally watch The Lady in the Van. Last year, I walked along the street in Camden where it was being filmed, and Alan Bennett talked to me, which was amazing.

About a month later, on the same street, we saw Jonathan Miller skirting some dog’s mess and he told me and the kids how annoyed it made him. I tried to explain to them afterwards who Jonathan Miller was, but to the five-year-old the satire pioneer will always be the Shouting Dog’s Mess Man.



I have the second of the final three preview shows at the intimate Leicester Square Theatre in London before the new show, Content Provider, does a week in big rooms around the country. Today, I was supposed to do a BBC Radio 3 show about improvised music but both of the kids were off school with a bug and I had to stay home mopping up. In between the vomiting, in the psychic shadow of the improvisers, I had something of a breakthrough. The guitarist Derek Bailey, for example, would embrace his problems and make them part of the performance.



I drank half a bottle of wine before going on stage, to give me the guts to take some risks. It’s not a long-term strategy for creative problem-solving, and that way lies wandering around Southend with a pet chicken. But by binning the words that I’d written and trying to repoint them, in the moment, to be about how the Brexit confusion is blocking my route to the show I wanted to write, I can suddenly see a way forward. The designer is in, with samples of a nice coat that she is making for me, intended to replicate the clothing of the central figure in Caspar David Friedrich’s 1818 German masterpiece Wanderer Above a Sea of Fog.



Richard Branson is on the internet and, just as I’d problem-solved my way around writing about it, he’s suggesting that Brexit might not happen. I drop the kids off and sit in a café reading Alan Moore’s new novel, Jerusalem. I am interviewing him about it for the Guardian in two weeks’ time. It’s 1,174 pages long, but what with the show falling apart I have read only 293 pages. Next week is half-term. I’ll nail it. It’s great, by the way, and seems to be about the small lives of undocumented individuals, buffeted by the random events of their times.

Stewart Lee’s show “Content Provider” will be on in London from 8 November. For more details, visit:

This article first appeared in the 27 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, American Rage