Has global warming stopped?

'The global temperature of 2007 is statistically the same as 2006 and every year since"

'The fact is that the global temperature of 2007 is statistically the same as 2006 and every year since 2001'. Plus read Mark Lynas's response

Global warming stopped? Surely not. What heresy is this? Haven’t we been told that the science of global warming is settled beyond doubt and that all that’s left to the so-called sceptics is the odd errant glacier that refuses to melt?

Aren’t we told that if we don’t act now rising temperatures will render most of the surface of the Earth uninhabitable within our lifetimes? But as we digest these apocalyptic comments, read the recent IPCC’s Synthesis report that says climate change could become irreversible. Witness the drama at Bali as news emerges that something is not quite right in the global warming camp.

With only few days remaining in 2007, the indications are the global temperature for this year is the same as that for 2006 – there has been no warming over the 12 months.

But is this just a blip in the ever upward trend you may ask? No.

The fact is that the global temperature of 2007 is statistically the same as 2006 as well as every year since 2001. Global warming has, temporarily or permanently, ceased. Temperatures across the world are not increasing as they should according to the fundamental theory behind global warming – the greenhouse effect. Something else is happening and it is vital that we find out what or else we may spend hundreds of billions of pounds needlessly.

In principle the greenhouse effect is simple. Gases like carbon dioxide present in the atmosphere absorb outgoing infrared radiation from the earth’s surface causing some heat to be retained.

Consequently an increase in the atmospheric concentration of greenhouse gases from human activities such as burning fossil fuels leads to an enhanced greenhouse effect. Thus the world warms, the climate changes and we are in trouble.

The evidence for this hypothesis is the well established physics of the greenhouse effect itself and the correlation of increasing global carbon dioxide concentration with rising global temperature. Carbon dioxide is clearly increasing in the Earth’s atmosphere. It’s a straight line upward. It is currently about 390 parts per million. Pre-industrial levels were about 285 ppm. Since 1960 when accurate annual measurements became more reliable it has increased steadily from about 315 ppm. If the greenhouse effect is working as we think then the Earth’s temperature will rise as the carbon dioxide levels increase.

But here it starts getting messy and, perhaps, a little inconvenient for some. Looking at the global temperatures as used by the US National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, the UK’s Met Office and the IPCC (and indeed Al Gore) it’s apparent that there has been a sharp rise since about 1980.

The period 1980-98 was one of rapid warming – a temperature increase of about 0.5 degrees C (CO2 rose from 340ppm to 370ppm). But since then the global temperature has been flat (whilst the CO2 has relentlessly risen from 370ppm to 380ppm). This means that the global temperature today is about 0.3 deg less than it would have been had the rapid increase continued.

For the past decade the world has not warmed. Global warming has stopped. It’s not a viewpoint or a sceptic’s inaccuracy. It’s an observational fact. Clearly the world of the past 30 years is warmer than the previous decades and there is abundant evidence (in the northern hemisphere at least) that the world is responding to those elevated temperatures. But the evidence shows that global warming as such has ceased.

The explanation for the standstill has been attributed to aerosols in the atmosphere produced as a by-product of greenhouse gas emission and volcanic activity. They would have the effect of reflecting some of the incidental sunlight into space thereby reducing the greenhouse effect. Such an explanation was proposed to account for the global cooling observed between 1940 and 1978.

But things cannot be that simple. The fact that the global temperature has remained unchanged for a decade requires that the quantity of reflecting aerosols dumped put in our atmosphere must be increasing year on year at precisely the exact rate needed to offset the accumulating carbon dioxide that wants to drive the temperature higher. This precise balance seems highly unlikely. Other explanations have been proposed such as the ocean cooling effect of the Interdecadal Pacific Oscillation or the Atlantic Multidecadal Oscillation.

But they are also difficult to adjust so that they exactly compensate for the increasing upward temperature drag of rising CO2. So we are led to the conclusion that either the hypothesis of carbon dioxide induced global warming holds but its effects are being modified in what seems to be an improbable though not impossible way, or, and this really is heresy according to some, the working hypothesis does not stand the test of data.

It was a pity that the delegates at Bali didn’t discuss this or that the recent IPCC Synthesis report did not look in more detail at this recent warming standstill. Had it not occurred, or if the flatlining of temperature had occurred just five years earlier we would have no talk of global warming and perhaps, as happened in the 1970’s, we would fear a new Ice Age! Scientists and politicians talk of future projected temperature increases. But if the world has stopped warming what use these projections then?

Some media commentators say that the science of global warming is now beyond doubt and those who advocate alternative approaches or indeed modifications to the carbon dioxide greenhouse warming effect had lost the scientific argument. Not so.

Certainly the working hypothesis of CO2 induced global warming is a good one that stands on good physical principles but let us not pretend our understanding extends too far or that the working hypothesis is a sufficient explanation for what is going on.

I have heard it said, by scientists, journalists and politicians, that the time for argument is over and that further scientific debate only causes delay in action. But the wish to know exactly what is going on is independent of politics and scientists must never bend their desire for knowledge to any political cause, however noble.

The science is fascinating, the ramifications profound, but we are fools if we think we have a sufficient understanding of such a complicated system as the Earth’s atmosphere’s interaction with sunlight to decide. We know far less than many think we do or would like you to think we do. We must explain why global warming has stopped.

David Whitehosue was BBC Science Correspondent 1988–1998, Science Editor BBC News Online 1998–2006 and the 2004 European Internet Journalist of the Year. He has a doctorate in astrophysics and is the author of The Sun: A Biography (John Wiley, 2005).] His website is

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What's to be done about racial inequality?

David Cameron's words on equal opportunities are to be welcomed - now for some action, says Sunder Katwala.

David Cameron made the strongest, clearest and most high profile statement about ethnic inequalities and the need to tackle discrimination ever yet offered by a British Prime Minister in his leader’s speech to the Conservative Party conference in Manchester.
“Picture this. You’ve graduated with a good degree. You send out your CV far and wide. But you get rejection after rejection. What’s wrong? It’s not the qualifications or the previous experience. It’s just two words at the top: first name, surname. Do you know that in our country today: even if they have exactly the same qualifications, people with white-sounding names are nearly twice as likely to get call backs for jobs than people with ethnic-sounding names? … That, in 21st century Britain, is disgraceful. We can talk all we want about opportunity, but it’s meaningless unless people are really judged equally”, said Cameron.
While the proof of the pudding will be in the eating, this was a powerfully argued Prime Ministerial intervention – and a particularly well-timed one, for three reasons.

Firstly, the Prime Minister was able to root his case in an all-but-universally accepted appeal for equal opportunities. It will always prove more difficult in practice to put political energy and resources behind efforts to remedy discrimination against a minority of the population unless a convincing fairness case is made that values cherished across our whole society are at stake. Cameron’s argument, that any party which tells itself that it is the party of the ‘fair chance’ and ‘the equal shot’ must have a response when there is such clear evidence of discrimination, should prove persuasive to a Conservative Party that has not seen race inequalities as its natural territory. Cameron argued that the same principles should animate responses to discrimination when it comes to race, gender and social class. Put like that, wanting job interviews to be fair – by eradicating conscious and unconscious patterns of bias wherever possible – would strike most Britons as offering as clear a case of the values of fair play as wanting the best baker to win the Great British Bake-Off on television.
Secondly, Cameron’s intervention comes at a potential "tipping point" moment for fair opportunities across ethnic groups. Traditionally, ethnic discrimination has been discussed primarily through the lens of its impact on the most marginalised. Certainly, persistent gaps in the criminal justice system, mental health provision and unemployment rates remain stark for some minority groups. What has been less noticed is the emergence of a much more complex pattern of opportunity and disadvantage – not least as a consequence of significant ethnic minority progress.

Most strikingly of all, in educational outcomes, historic attainment gaps between ethnic minorities and their white British peers have disappeared over the last decade. In the aggregate, ethnic minorities get better GCSE results on average. Ethnic minority Britons are more likely, not less likely, to be university graduates than their fellow citizens. 

As a result of that progress, Cameron’s intervention comes at a moment of significant potential – but significant risk too. Britain’s ethnic minorities are the youngest and fastest-growing sections of British society. If that educational progress translates into economic success, it will make a significant contribution to the "Great British Take-Off" that the Prime Minister envisions. But if that does not happen, with educational convergence combined with current ‘ethnic penalties’ in employment and income persisting, then that potential could well curdle into frustration that the British promise of equal opportunities is not being kept.  Cameron also mirrored his own language in committing himself to both a ‘fight against extremism’ and a ‘fight against discrimination’: while those are distinct challenges and causes, actively pursuing both tracks simultaneously has the potential, at least, depolarise some debates about responses to extremism  - and so to help deepen the broad social coalitions we need for a more cohesive society too.

Thirdly, Cameron’s challenge could mark an important deepening in the political competition between the major parties on race issues. Many have been struck by the increase in political attention on the centre-right to race issues over the last five to ten years. The focus has been on the politics of representation. By increasing the number of non-white Conservative MPs from two to seventeen since 2005, Cameron has sent a powerful signal that Labour’s traditional claim to be ‘the party of ethnic minorities’ would now be contested. Cameron was again able to celebrate in Manchester several ways in which his Cabinet and Parliamentary benches demonstrate many successful journeys of migrant and minority integration in British society. That might perhaps help to ease the fears, about integration being impossible in an era of higher immigration, which the Home Secretary had articulated the previous day.

So symbolism can matter. But facial diversity is not enough. The politics of ethnic minority opportunity needs to be about more than visits to gurdwaras, diversity nights at the party conference fringes and unveiling statues of Mahatma Gandhi in Parliament Square. Jeremy Corbyn’s first speech as Labour leader did include one brief celebratory reference to Britain’s ethnic diversity – “as I travelled the country during the leadership campaign it was wonderful to see the diversity of all the people in our country” – and to Labour bringing in more black, Asian and ethnic minority members - but it did not include any substantial content on discrimination. Tim Farron acknowledged during his leadership campaign that the Liberal Democrats have struggled to get to the starting-line on race and diversity at all. The opposition parties too will no doubt now be challenged to match not just the Prime Minister’s rhetorical commitment to challenging inequalities but also to propose how it could be done in practice.

Non-white Britons expect substance, not just symbolism from all of the parties on race inequalites.  Survation’s large survey of ethnic minority voters for British Future showed the Conservatives winning more ethnic minority support than ever before – but just 29 per cent of non-white respondents were confident that the Conservatives are committed to treating people of every ethnic background equally, while 54 per cent said this of Labour. Respondents were twice as likely to say that the Conservatives needto do more to reach out – and the Prime Minister would seem to be committed to showing that he has got that message.  Moreover, there is evidence that ethnic inclusion could be important in broadening a party’s appeal to other younger, urban and more liberal white voters too – which is why it made sense for this issue to form part of a broader attempt by David Cameron to colonise the broad centre of British politics in his Manchester speech.

But the case for caution is that there has been limited policy attention to ethnic inequalities under the last two governments. Restaurateur Iqbal Wahhab decided to give up his role chairing an ethnic minority taskforce for successive governments, unconvinced there was a political commitment to do much more than convene a talking shop. Lib Dem equalities minister Lynne Featherstone did push the CV discrimination issue – but many Conservatives were sceptical. Cameron’s new commitment may face similar challenges from those whose instinct is to worry that more attention to discrimination or bias in the jobs market will mean more red tape for business.

Labour had a separate race inequalities manifesto in 2015, outside of its main election manifesto, while the Conservative manifesto did not contain significant commitments to racial inequality. The mid-campaign launch in Croydon of a series of race equality pledges showed an increasing awareness of the growing importance of ethnic minority votes - though the fact that they all involved aiming for increases of 20 per cent by 2020 gave them a slightly back-of-the-envelope feel. 

Prime Ministerial commitments have an important agenda-setting function. A generation ago the Stephen Lawrence case opened the eyes of middle England to racist violence and police failures, particularly through the Daily Mail’s persistent challenging of those injustices. A Conservative Prime Minister’s words could similarly make a big difference in the mainstreaming of the issue of inequalities of opportunity. What action should follow words? Between now and next year’s party conference season, that must will now be the test for this Conservative government – and for their political opponents too. 

Sunder Katwala is director of British Future and former general secretary of the Fabian Society.

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The day the earth stopped

Ed Miliband’s confidant and former speechwriter recalls the terrible shock of election night and tries to make sense of what has happened since.

Conference season 2015 wasn’t meant to be like this, for any of us. The Conservatives were meant to be plunged into turmoil, having lost office. The Liberal Democrats were meant to be reimagining themselves as partners in a progressive alliance. The leading lights of a young Labour generation – Chuka Umunna, Tristram Hunt, Rachel Reeves and Liz Kendall – were meant to be getting used to their ministerial boxes. And I was meant to be writing a victory speech for a newly elected Labour prime minister.

Painful though it is to recall, it wasn’t that long ago that this alternative future disappeared. It was the night when the hope of 7 May turned to the despair of 8 May. Good news had trickled in to Labour’s HQ at One Brewer’s Green, London, throughout the ­afternoon. Rumours spread. Turnout was up, it was said. Young people seemed enthused, we heard. There were more people voting Labour making the journey to the polling station than people voting Tory. And how did we know? Well, the party had had over five million conversations with voters. Or was it six million? Even that number continued to rise as the day went on. As party staff came in for the evening shift at Brewer’s Green, the challenge was to control expectations.

But then the exit poll came. And then ­Nuneaton. And then Douglas Alexander. And then Ed Balls. And lose we did. This was supposed to be a country, as I had written in speech after speech, “yearning for change”. But it turned out it wasn’t, or at least not in the way we thought. It was happily settling for more of the same. Just without the Liberal Democrats.

Yet, somehow, here we are, at the end of the summer, with Jeremy Corbyn – a serial backbench rebel who had spent 32 years on the furthest reaches of the back benches and the margins of Labour politics – about to give the leader’s speech at conference in Ed Miliband’s place.

Surreal though this story sounds in the abstract, the rough outline of what has happened and why is bizarrely familiar. In May, the British public rejected Labour for seeming to offer too much of an economic risk in exchange for too little of an economic promise. And then, four months later, Labour members and supporters empowered by reforms most people had long forgotten about seized their chance. They flocked to an unlikely candidate who celebrated his own unbending authenticity. Someone who not only put principle before pragmatism in theory, but who was prepared to say things that party members believed but that their leaders had resisted saying for decades. And then to do so again and again. So it turned out that the consequence of an election in which the British public opted for continuity was a landslide Labour leadership election victory for a candidate who promised to bring even bigger change.

Put this way, it is no wonder that there are many who genuinely care about Labour’s election prospects who are in despair. Within four months, we have had the public heading one way, followed by the party heading almost exactly in the opposite direction. It is not what any of my political scientist colleagues would describe as “orthodox vote-seeking behaviour”.

For those seeking a more optimistic reading, however, there is at least one place where the party’s voters and the broader voting public may find common ground. Jeremy Corbyn’s triumph, along with the utter failure of the other leadership candidates, is not only a shift to the ideological left. It is a rejection of a whole way of doing politics. It marks the end of the spadocracy, the strangulated prose of political slogans derived solely from focus groups, the ever-declining levels of trust, the apparent refusal to take the braver course of action, the collapse of respect for grass-roots party activism, the widespread sense that the elite “never listens to us”. When Owen Jones and Yanis Varoufakis are the go-to advisers for Her Majesty’s Opposition, we know we are a long way from Peter Mandelson and David Axelrod.

Now, pundits talk too often about a “new politics” but in this, at least, the election of Jeremy Corbyn is a new political reality. As the political scientist Peter Mair so presciently put it a few years ago, we have witnessed “the hollowing out of western democracy” in recent years, as elites have drifted ever further away from the people, and now almost everyone has had enough. The widespread revulsion at a “political class” separated off from the rest of society has shaken the old order.

People far beyond the membership of the Labour Party have grown tired of politicians of all parties who live in continual dread that someone will discover precisely how little they know or care for what most people call their everyday. People know that underneath those gotcha questions about the price of a pint of milk or a loaf of bread there lurks a terrible truth: most top-level politicians of all parties can’t really know what it feels like to have no formal power, no significant influence, to be worried about how things will pan out in their daily lives.


To those already persuaded, the rawness of Corbyn’s political style seems perfectly suited to a time when people have become turned off by the slick, the polished and the professional. There is a freshness to a party leader who seems not to care what he wears, who takes the night bus and who just doesn’t know when the newspapers go to press. A leader whose acceptance speech contained not one soundbite, not even a memorable phrase, but that laid out a philosophy nonetheless, indicates that we are indeed in a new era. Ironically, it all follows from one of Axelrod’s most compelling pieces of advice to Ed Miliband. Conventional politics where the candidate seems to care more about power than anything else, he always told Miliband, just can’t win for the left in an age like ours.

So, in this respect at least, the public and the party may seem to be at one. Surely that is a reason to be optimistic about what Jeremy Corbyn has to offer?

Sadly, this apparent confluence between the public and the party’s disdain for politics as usual is not quite as simple as it seems to the converted. And that is not because, as the gnarly old sceptics claim, the only way to do politics properly is the Campbell, Mandelson or Crosby way. Of course, Corbyn’s team needs to avoid near-terminal presentational errors, but it faces a bigger challenge than just getting its act together. Instead, there is something important about the public’s turn against professionalised politics that risks being lost in all the frenzy and the excitement of Labour’s political takeover. And that is the precise nature of what the public thinks about politics and politicians. Because it is not just that the public is bored by soundbites and focus groups and strangulated slogans. Millions of members of the public think that our politicians have a deep disdain for the everyday life of millions of people in this country. They believe that politicians lead entirely separate lives, shaped by their own, entirely idiosyncratic ideas, and that they spend a good deal of their time looking down on the rest of us. And no amount of soundbite-free politics is going to change that on its own.


I realised the depth of this problem almost exactly a year ago. At that time, I was working with Ed Miliband on his eventually disappointingly received annual conference speech. Miliband’s goal, with just months to go to the general election, was to share his vision of the future of our country. More ambitiously still, he wanted to describe what Britain could look like after not just one term of a Labour government, but two. Yet he also knew that for this vision to resonate with people it had to start not from him, but from them. It had to begin, that is, with the dreams and the nightmares of the people of this country, not from the abstractions and the ambitions of the professional politician.

The question for me as a speechwriter was how to reach those dreams and nightmares. The answer seemed simple. Listen and talk to people. And that is how Ed and I ended up spending day after day in conversation with people we bumped into in the park. It’s how we ended up, as a close friend joked at the time, “cruising for anecdotes on Hampstead Heath”.

It all seems like a different world now. But at heart, it was an honest attempt to describe the spirit of the country. The stories didn’t just come from the rich or the powerful. They didn’t just come from people who lived in north London. They came from all over. And they were written in and rehearsed, and they provided a texture to his understanding.

But as Ed began to deliver this part of his speech, the reaction was stark. People began to tweet with incredulity and, believe me, that is not what you want as a speechwriter. The first accusation was that the people were invented. They weren’t. The second was that they couldn’t really have said the words that Ed attributed to them. They had. The third was that they hadn’t really been persuaded by Ed’s arguments. They were. The fourth was that it was inappropriate to talk about real people and their petty ­goings-on in a speech of this scale. That it was silly or sentimental, mawkish or mad. And that just reinforced the whole problem with which we began.

Despite the frustration, and now that the dust has settled, I understand the scepticism. It goes far beyond the standard critique of leadership ratings or rhetorical power. Why should anyone who didn’t know Ed Miliband personally believe that he was sincerely trying to do things differently, trying to demonstrate that the words of political leadership should be dictated by the people? Why shouldn’t they just think it was a cheap trick in an otherwise standard party conference speech? Why should anyone think that a Labour government led by Ed would think differently from governments that had gone before?

These are the same questions that remain for Labour’s new leader. The ideology and policy orientation may have changed. The style may have changed even more. But it is going to take much more than either of those things to convince the British public that Labour has an approach to politics that respects them, that takes their lives seriously, that is sincerely concerned with changing the relationship between the governed and those who aspire to govern.

Working out precisely what is required to convince the British public that this is now a party rooted in their concerns and not in its own interests will be the central task of the next few years. It will take us right to the heart of all the hardest debates about policy and ideology. But I believe the essence of what is required is already evident.

Most of all it needs a culture of humility at the top. The new leader, deputy leader and shadow cabinet need to display an inner belief that people matter more than politicians, that government doesn’t possess all the answers. They need to show they know that the trust that is crucial to our politics has snapped and needs to be restored. This means speaking boldly and directly to people’s concerns. It means forgetting the tendency to speak in the arcane abstractions of socialist politics; dropping the references to the International Labour Organisation and the long march of the working class. It also means an end to behaving as if all the conventions of public life apply only to others. It was the haughtiness behind the decision not to sing the national anthem at the Battle of Britain commemoration that was most off-putting of all. Even more importantly, it means turning decisively against the statism and the centralism of Labour’s past, both in terms of the party’s structures and its plans for government. Corbyn must be clear: the future is democracy, not dirigisme, experimental innovation, not narrow ideology. Ours is an age in which people rightly long to direct as much of their own lives as possible, not have their lives directed for them. Labour is a party that has shown such success recently in engaged, local government, from Hackney to Manchester, and now is the time that the party can make that change with confidence. But doing so will require a break with many of the habits of mind and spirit that many around Corbyn have acquired over the decades.

Similarly, renewal also requires putting in the hours. Everyone who knows the inner workings of the Labour Party knows about “Labour doorstep” – the time put in by activists all across Britain going door to door, talking to voters, doing voter ID. It is vital. But if that is 90 per cent of the way you meet people, you will never expand the party. The Chicago community organiser Arnie Graf, whose career began with the civil rights movement and who advised Labour during the Miliband years, once put it this way: door-to-door contact is at best a one-minute advertisement, and although that is better than a leaflet, it is not building a relationship. To build a relationship with people, you must know who they are, find out what they care about and begin to show that you can respond. The only way to show you trust someone and care for them, after all, is to show them that you want to spend time with them and that you enjoy it when you do. Labour’s community organising experiment should be at its beginning, not its end. No energy should be wasted on factional fighting in constituencies or in Westminster. All energy should be directed towards turning the increase in membership Corbyn has overseen into a strong connection with Britain’s communities. Put simply, Labour needs to return to the politics of relationship-building, not the politics of reselection.


Yet Labour’s renewal demands more than just humility and hours. It demands honesty, too. That starts with an honesty of campaigning. We need an end to the almost complete domination of politics by negative dividing lines, by minutely tailored messages designed to deceive rather than enlighten. That was the straight talking Corbyn promised during the summer. But it also requires honesty about the scale of the challenges that confront us all in the 21st century and can’t be wished away by grand statements of motivation or intent, as Tristram Hunt’s speech at Policy Network during the leadership campaign acknowledged.

That is why we can’t just have knee-jerk rhetoric about the merits of “investment over cuts” and the evils of austerity, however much the Corbyn victory has reminded us of the need to challenge stale economic orthodoxies. Instead, we have to develop an account of the way we can build an inclusive, egalitarian economy that gives people a sense of security and possibility for the future but also understands that the times we live in are hard and are unlikely to get easier any time soon. The only antidote to destructive populism in such an age is a politics of bracing truth-telling. Labour should lead the way in a conversation where we aim to get beneath the surface of problems, make sense of where we are in order to develop deep and sustainable solutions to them, and do so together. That is why we still can’t duck the challenges of reforming the social security system or of the future funding of the NHS. And it is why we have to remind people relentlessly of the economic, social and cultural imperative of securing our place in the European Union: a task that could define this political generation. Labour’s best hope – no, its only hope – is that the public will respond to clarity and honesty about all of these challenges. It will certainly punish any effort to look the other way, whether motivated by expediency or by passionately held conviction.

As I think about what that future looks like, I am drawn back to 8 May. I probably always will be: the pain of the failure is that intense. But this time I remember something from outside Labour HQ. Just before the exit poll was announced, James Graham’s new play, The Vote, was broadcast on More4 live from the Donmar Warehouse in London. The play was set on polling day at a single polling station in Lewisham, south London. People came in and they talked. There was a middle-aged man who had got drunk over the road and wanted to take his ballot paper to the pub; an elderly man who may, or may not, have voted twice by mistake; a young man, just 18, who had read too much pre-Ed Miliband Russell Brand and ripped up his ballot paper in revolutionary protest; and an elderly woman and her daughter who shared a first name, weren’t sure which one had been registered at their address and thus didn’t know precisely who had the right to cast her vote.

The play was funny and poignant, but most of all it was real. Here were the wonderful people of our country. They disagreed about some things – what should happen to children when parents divorce, whether the one-way system was good for traffic flow, whom to vote for – but shared many others: pride in the place they lived, their lives full of family and work and hope and fear. And a sense that democracy still matters.

It ended with the characters gathering together as the TV election programme began. The last sound the audience heard was the disembodied voice of David Dimbleby announcing the exit poll. It was a moment of pride, because everyone each knew, as so rarely in politics, that their voice had been heard. Then the play stopped. And we all returned sharply to reality. Because what Dimbleby went on to say was that they hadn’t said Labour. That is what Jeremy Corbyn has got to remember. They won’t say Labour again, unless the party sounds and feels like it knows the people we love.

Marc Stears is Professor of Political Theory at University College, Oxford. He was chief speechwriter to Ed Miliband

Marc Stears is fellow in politics, University College, Oxford and visiting fellow at IPPR.

This article first appeared in the 24 September 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Revenge of the Left