The trains will remain in the factory for now. Photo: Getty Images
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The government has questions to answer over the rail fiasco

Passengers deserve better than ministers who are happy to be photographed next to new trains but then withhold the truth from the public.

Aptly, Patrick McLoughlin initially wanted to call the government’s spending on rail the “Rail Investment Programme” – until a civil servant pointed out that its acronym would be RIP. Eight weeks ago, those spending plans were still at the forefront of the Tory election campaign. The Conservative manifesto promised electrification for the Midlands and the North. We were treated to long lectures about the how Ministers were building a ‘Northern Powerhouse,’ and even a ‘Midlands Engine.’

Yesterday the electric dream died. Two major projects have been cancelled – or ‘paused,’ as the government delicately puts it – and the status of other plans is unclear. Contingent investment in new electric trains has been put off.  The economy is not going to be rebalanced after all. The Northern Powerhouse has had the power turned off. The Midlands Engine is rusting in a siding.

The most important question for the government is simple – who knew? Which of those Ministers who spent April touring marginal constituencies, reading out long lists of investment projects and hinting at more to come, knew that the axe was about to fall?

The case against the Transport Secretary and other Ministers in the Department for Transport is compelling. It has been a matter of public record for well over a year that the Great Western electrification project was in trouble – indeed, Labour first raised the issue in Parliament in May 2014. Network Rail’s Chief Executive, Mark Carne, said yesterday that: ‘We knew, already, very early on last year that certain aspects of the plan were going to be incredibly difficult to deliver.’

Ministers must bear ultimate responsibility. As the Transport Select Committee warned in January:

Key rail enhancement projects—such as electrification in the North and North West of England—have been announced by Ministers without Network Rail having a clear estimate of what the projects will cost, leading to uncertainty about whether the projects will be delivered on time, or at all.”

Claire Perry, the rail minister, conceded the point last week, when she admitted at an event for rail engineers that ‘we’ve given Network Rail the biggest challenge it has ever faced,’ and that Ministers had place a ‘massive demand on engineering capacity.’

Labour has documented how the combined cost of Midland Main Line and Great Western electrification doubled from £1.5 billion to £3 billion in just two years. As a consequence, in November of last year, Network Rail started to compile a list of ‘those items/projects that would be stopped or refused in order to live within the capital constraints.’

Minutes published today in response to a FOI request I made reveal that, on March 19th Network Rail’s Chief Executive said that the Department for Transport ‘had a line of sight to most of the information in the current iteration of the Business Plan,’ and went on to say the company would have to ‘close the funding gap but the Board needed to be aware that the funding gap could be significant.’

Crucially, Patrick McLoughlin was handed a report on September 1 on the state of Network Rail’s plans, which was jointly written by the Regulator, Network Rail, and the Department for Transport. He has subsequently refused to publish it. In the absence of a copy in the public domain, it is difficult to resist the conclusion that this report recommended that cuts be made in order to reduce the cost of Network Rail’s overall programme.

It is clear that ministers knew that Network Rail’s plans were in jeopardy and remained silent. As I warned on this blog back in March, the government knew that its rail investment plans were ‘falling apart’ and that this was ‘a story that the government is desperate to keep quiet.’

However, railways are hierarchical structures, and we need to ask just how far up the hierarchy awareness of these problems rose. Yesterday the Prime Minister’s official spokesperson refused to comment when they were asked when David Cameron was made aware of these cost overruns. As Michael Dugher said in his letter to Cameron this morning:

"It appears that despite you and your ministers knowing that these projects were in serious difficulty before the election, you decided to wait until after the election to reveal the extent of the problems before reneging on the commitments you had previously made.”

Passengers deserve better than ministers who are happy to be photographed next to new trains but then withhold the truth from the public, and who think that rail lines are the words they need to remember to get through their next interview. Unfortunately the Transpennine and Midland Main Line electrification schemes are not the only Network Rail projects that in trouble, and the government now needs to set out whether there are additional problems heading down the track.

Lilian Greenwood is Labour MP for Nottingham South. She was formerly shadow secretary of state for Transport. 

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Meet the hot, funny, carefree Cool Mums – the maternal version of the Cool Girl

As new film Bad Moms reveals, what the cool girl is to the diet-obsessed prom queen, the cool mum is to the PTA harpy.

I suppose we should all be thankful. Time was when “mum’s night off” came in the form of a KFC value bucket. Now, with the advent of films such as Bad Moms – “from the gratefully married writers of The Hangover” – it looks as though mums are finally getting permission to cut loose and party hard.

This revelation could not come a moment too soon. Fellow mums, you know all those stupid rules we’ve been following? The ones where we think “god, I must do this, or it will ruin my precious child’s life”? Turns out we can say “sod it” and get pissed instead. Jon Lucas and Scott Moore said so.

I saw the trailer for Bad Moms in the cinema with my sons, waiting for Ghostbusters to start. Much as I appreciate a female-led comedy, particularly one that suggests there is virtue in shirking one’s maternal responsibilities, I have to say there was something about it that instantly made me uneasy. It seems the media is still set on making the Mommy Wars happen, pitching what one male reviewer describes as “the condescending harpies that run the PTA” against the nice, sexy mummies who just want to have fun (while also happening to look like Mila Kunis). It’s a set up we’ve seen before and will no doubt see again, and while I’m happy some attention is being paid to the pressures modern mothers are under, I sense that another is being created: the pressure to be a cool mum.

When I say “cool mum” I’m thinking of a maternal version of the cool girl, so brilliantly described in Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl:

“Being the Cool Girl means I am a hot, brilliant, funny woman who adores football, poker, dirty jokes, and burping, who plays video games, drinks cheap beer, loves threesomes and anal sex, and jams hot dogs and hamburgers into her mouth like she’s hosting the world’s biggest culinary gang bang while somehow maintaining a size 2, because Cool Girls are above all hot.”

The cool girl isn’t like all the others. She isn’t weighed down by the pressures of femininity. She isn’t bothered about the rules because she knows how stupid they are (or at least, how stupid men think they are). She does what she likes, or at least gives the impression of doing so. No one has to feel guilty around the cool girl. She puts all other women, those uptight little princesses, to shame.

What the cool girl is to the diet-obsessed prom queen, the cool mum is to the PTA harpy. The cool mum doesn’t bore everyone by banging on about organic food, sleeping habits or potty training. Neither hyper-controlling nor obsessively off-grid, she’s managed to combine reproducing with remaining a well-balanced person, with interests extending far beyond CBeebies and vaccination pros and cons. She laughs in the face of those anxious mummies ferrying their kids to and from a multitude of different clubs, in between making  cupcakes for the latest bake sale and sitting on the school board. The cool mum doesn’t give a damn about dirty clothes or additives. After all, isn’t the key to happy children a happy mum? Perfection is for narcissists.

It’s great spending time with the cool mum. She doesn’t make you feel guilty about all the unpaid drudgery about which other mothers complain. She’s not one to indulge in passive aggression, expecting gratitude for all those sacrifices that no one even asked her to make. She’s entertaining and funny. Instead of fretting about getting up in time to do the school run, she’ll stay up all night, drinking you under the table. Unlike the molly-coddled offspring of the helicopter mum or the stressed-out kids of the tiger mother, her children are perfectly content and well behaved, precisely because they’ve learned that the world doesn’t revolve around them. Mummy’s a person, too.

It’s amazing, isn’t it, just how well this works out. Just as the cool girl manages to meet all the standards for patriarchal fuckability without ever getting neurotic about diets, the cool mum raises healthy, happy children without ever appearing to be doing any actual motherwork. Because motherwork, like dieting, is dull. The only reason any woman would bother with either of them is out of some misplaced sense of having to compete with other women. But what women don’t realise – despite the best efforts of men such as the Bad Moms writers to educate us on this score – is that the kind of woman who openly obsesses over her children or her looks isn’t worth emulating. On the contrary, she’s a selfish bitch.

For what could be more selfish than revealing to the world that the performance of femininity doesn’t come for free? That our female bodies are not naturally hairless, odourless, fat-free playgrounds? That the love and devotion we give our children – the very care work that keeps them alive – is not something that just happens regardless of whether or not we’ve had to reimagine our entire selves to meet their needs? No one wants to know about the efforts women make to perform the roles which men have decided come naturally to us. It’s not that we’re not still expected to be perfect partners and mothers. It’s not as though someone else is on hand to pick up the slack if we go on strike. It’s just that we’re also required to pretend that our ideals of physical and maternal perfection are not imposed on us by our position in a social hierarchy. On the contrary, they’re meant to be things we’ve dreamed up amongst ourselves, wilfully, if only because each of us is a hyper-competitive, self-centred mean girl at heart.

Don’t get me wrong. It would be great if the biggest pressures mothers faced really did come from other mothers. Alas, this really isn’t true. Let’s look, for instance, at the situation in the US, where Bad Moms is set. I have to say, if I were living in a place where a woman could be locked up for drinking alcohol while pregnant, where she could be sentenced to decades behind bars for failing to prevent an abusive partner from harming her child, where she could be penalised in a custody case on account of being a working mother – if I were living there, I’d be more than a little paranoid about fucking up, too. It’s all very well to say “give yourself a break, it’s not as though the motherhood police are out to get you”. Actually, you might find that they are, especially if, unlike Kunis’s character in Bad Moms, you happen to be poor and/or a woman of colour.

Even when the stakes are not so high, there is another reason why mothers are stressed that has nothing to do with pressures of our own making. We are not in need of mindfulness, bubble baths nor even booze (although the latter would be gratefully received). We are stressed because we are raising children in a culture which strictly compartmentalises work, home and leisure. When one “infects” the other – when we miss work due to a child’s illness, or have to absent ourselves to express breastmilk at social gatherings, or end up bringing a toddler along to work events – this is seen as a failure on our part. We have taken on too much. Work is work and life is life, and the two should never meet.

No one ever says “the separation between these different spheres – indeed, the whole notion of work/life balance – is an arbitrary construct. It shouldn’t be down to mothers to maintain these boundaries on behalf of everyone else.” Throughout human history different cultures have combined work and childcare. Yet ours has decreed that when women do so they are foolishly trying to “have it all”, ignoring the fact that no one is offering mothers any other way of raising children while maintaining some degree of financial autonomy. These different spheres ought to be bleeding into one another.  If we are genuinely interested in destroying hierarchies by making boundaries more fluid, these are the kind of boundaries we should be looking at. The problem lies not with identities – good mother, bad mother, yummy mummy, MILF – but with the way in which we understand and carry out our day-to-day tasks.

But work is boring. Far easier to think that nice mothers are held back, not by actual exploitation, but by meanie alpha mummies making up arbitrary, pointless rules. And yes, I’d love to be a bad mummy, one who stands up and says no to all that. Wouldn’t we all? I’d be all for smashing the matriarchy, if that were the actual problem here, but it’s not.

It’s not that mummies aren’t allowing each other to get down and party. God knows, we need it. It’s just that it’s a lot less fun when you know the world will still be counting on you to clear up afterwards.  

Glosswitch is a feminist mother of three who works in publishing.