In this week’s New Statesman: Something’s Rotten

Power, corruption and lies: the British establishment in crisis. PLUS: Brian Moore on why abuse victims don't speak out, and a special report on Malala Yousafzai, the girl who defied the Taliban.

For this week’s cover story, the New Statesman reflects on the crisis of British Institutions. From banks to big business to the BBC – are the powerful incapable of holding themselves accountable? Featuring: David Herman on Newsnight and the BBC, George Eaton on Westminster scandals, Jonathan Derbyshire and Alex Hern on big business and tax, David Allen Green on royal privileges, and Peter Lazenby on police corruption at Hillsborough.


David Herman: A culture of unreason

The BBC is the latest institution to be marred by scandal and kicks off our Something’s Rotten cover story. But Jimmy Savile aside, former BBC producer David Herman argues there is a greater identity crisis brewing. The BBC no longer knows who it wants to be. “Amid the media frenzy over Newsnight,” he writes, “the bigger questions have been ignored.”

Newsnight and Panorama reflect deeper difficulties at the BBC: falling budgets and declining audience share, on both BBC1 and BBC2. Panorama has responded by dumbing down. Rippon might have put ratings first and gone for the “Jimmy Savile was a paedophile” splash. He didn’t and it looks as if he didn’t for journalistic reasons.

The Panorama investigation into Newsnight’s shelving of the programme on Savile was symptomatic of the problem. It was all heat and very little light. The producers had the heart-rending testimony of several men and women who had been abused as children. However, despite much innuendo, they couldn’t find anyone else, at the BBC, at the Crown Prosecution Service, in Surrey Police, or in any of the named institutions, who could confirm anything. As for the allegation that Rippon had dropped the story because of pressure from above, they found no evidence to back this up.

...This is part of a bigger battle over the future of the BBC. Some say that as audience share plummets, sports rights disappear and the BBC can no longer bid for US hit shows, its only future will be as a kind of glorified Radio 4: news and current affairs programmes and a global brand, with a few bits and pieces in between. No more sport, prestige drama or serious history programmes.


Brian Moore: I understand why Savile’s victims didn’t speak out about their abuse

Speaking from his own childhood experience of abuse, former rugby "hardman” Brian Moore condemns the BBC’s failure to properly investigate abuse claims and explains why their failings will only make it harder for victims to come forward.

The issue of child abuse has been hijacked by the press as a way of deflecting from its own nefariousness on phone-hacking and bribing of public officials. Why didn’t the papers act on rumours they now say were very clear and publicly known?

...What is lost in all this is the victims. The accusations are focused on institutions and authority, with the individual cases lost in a running total of victims that the tabloids seem keen to inflate. There are and will be calls for more procedures and schemes and vetting to ensure this never happens again. But it will happen again, and what is not needed is another raft of process-driven, box-ticking certificates of safety.

I and many of Savile’s victims did not tell because we did not think we would be believed. What we victims need is not just an immediate person being sympathetic and taking a statement. We need to know that a proper investigation will be made if we make a complaint; to know that the Crown Prosecution Service will be robust and that every effort will be made to secure a conviction. So harrowing is the telling of our stories that we have to have utmost faith that as much as possible will be done to rectify the wrong and to help us bear the extra stress of an investigation and trial.


David Blanchflower: Why unemployment has fallen, and why it will rise again soon

In the Economics Column this week, David Blanchflower tackles the puzzling unemployment variations between the US and the UK, unscrambles the data surrounding the UK’s recent drop in joblessness, and warns it will rise again:

The most unexpected figures recently were the big drops in the UK’s headline unemployment number and rate. However, the way the Office for National Statistics (ONS) reports the numbers – as three-month rolling averages – doesn’t really help us understand what is happening. It turns out that this occurs because of concerns about the variability of sample estimates that arise because the survey from which the numbers are extracted – the labour force survey (LFS) – is underfunded and sample sizes are so small that there is a lot of month-to-month variation

...Something strange appears to be going on. Note that employment fell in the past two months, from a June peak that is likely distorted by the Olympics, as well as by young people who may not enter education in part because of the increase in tuition fees. So the unemployment rate is likely to rise; the Bank of England agents in their October report suggested that there would be “little job creation” in the private sector over the next six months and their past predictions have been reliable.

... I was wrong on the latest figures, to the delight of some my Twitter followers, but I suspect unemployment will rise sharply again and soon.


Rafael Behr: Miliband is sneaking up on power without a plan for government

In the Politics Column this week, Rafael Behr takes a close look at Ed’s campaign in opposition, and wonders how long he can continue to offer an “austerity-lite” program without embracing the painful reality of public service on a tighter budget - and the enemies is will make him. He writes:

Ed Miliband has had the freedom to work on his political stance like a wannabe rock star trying out stage moves in the privacy of his bedroom. His statements of intent to contain the deficit are the policy equivalent of air guitar – roughly the right position but not very revealing about what he would do if plugged into instruments of real power. 

...Others are less sanguine, fearing that failure to signal reforming intent – pretending, for example, that the rationing of NHS services is proof of Tory malice towards the health service as if demographic and budget pressures were not also a factor – is dishonest. Voters will smell the deception. Labour could still scrape into power but then hit a wall of public revulsion as misty-eyed promises of change give way to more of the same. It is a scenario that one shadow minister describes as “Labour ending up as the Nick Cleggs of 2015.”

... Serial Tory blunders have afforded Labour space to work out what kind of opposition it wants to be. As well as thanking his luck, Miliband should consider why this has happened. It must be tempting to think that Cameron just happens to be congenitally incompetent. Another explanation is that some of the disarray expresses how hard it is to govern in austerity and how easy it is to make powerful enemies of public servants – nurses, teachers, police officers – when taking their money, pensions and job security away.

Miliband imagines doing things differently. His plan involves promising epoch-defining change to the way society and the economy are structured without divisive talk of winners and losers – the cosy “one nation” revolution. It is a feasible strategy for sneaking up on power but with a hollow mandate. If Miliband forms a government without permission to inflict pain or make enemies, he will quickly find Britain ungovernable.


Jason Cowley: On Janan Ganesh’s George Osborne: The Austerity Chancellor

In Books this week, New Statesman editor Jason Cowley finds a biographer almost cripplingly awestruck by his subject. In FT columnist Janan Ganesh’s new biography, Osborne emerges as an “assiduous networker and power-seeker”.

The problem, however, is a lack of healthy skepticism - “Ganesh believes too readily in the myth of Osborne’s strategic ‘genius’ and is too willing to forgive what to some is unforgivable – the way Osborne talked down the economy in the months after the 2010 general election …” He write further:

If the general narrative of Osborne’s rise and embrace of austerity economics is covered well enough, the larger problems of the book are of style and tone. Ganesh writes with comical awe and reverence, for instance, about Rupert Harrison, Osborne’s 33-year-old advi­ser, who was “among the outstanding micro-economists of his generation”. Harrison has a “powerful mind”; his “ambition is cloaked by a magisterial personal style”; he has a “capacious hinterland”. It’s as if Ganesh were describing a latter-day John Maynard Keynes, whose intellect Bertrand Russell once said “was the clearest and sharpest” of anyone he ever encountered.

...Because the book is not a psychological portrait of Osborne and because it fails to convey any convincing sense of its subject’s inner life, it reads mostly as an exercise in nearly-history: a standard, often perfunctory recounting of recent political events, awkwardly written.... The book suffers by way of comparison with Francis Elliott’s and James Hanning’s biography of David Cameron, which over its several editions has broadened and deepened to become a work of merit, at once measured in its judgements, calmly and precisely written and authoritative. Ganesh’s judgements are too often swooning and overheated.




Kevin Maguire: Clegg talks double dutch

In Commons Confidential, the Daily Mirror’s Kevin Maguire writes on “Eurofanatic” Nick Clegg and other Parliamentary gossip:

Mistrust is deepening between the Europhobic David Cameron and the Eurofanatic Nick Clegg. I hear Downing Street insisted that a No 10 minder attend a meeting in the Deputy Prime Minister’s Cabinet Office lair with Herman Van Rompuy of the European Council. Van Rompuy is that elusive creature, a near-famous Belgian. Clegg is even rarer – a polyglot Brit. The Lib Dem internationalist has five languages: French, German, Spanish, Dutch and Tory. Irritated at No 10’s snooping, Clever Cloggs conducted the entire session in Dutch, so the PM’s cloth-eared spy was left fuming in the corner, listening but not understanding a double-Dutch conversation.

Samira Shackle: The girl who played with fire

A special report from Pakistan on the shooting of the teenage rights activist Malala Yousafzai: Samira Shackle describes how the Taliban attack has sparked a wave of protest and speaks to women's rights activists who have defied violence and the threat of murder. But, she asks, are these women being let down by their own government's ambivalent attitude to Islamic extremism?

And introducing: A new regular comic from Tom Humberstone

Award winning comic artist and illustrator Tom Humberstone joins the New Statesman this week. His topical comic strip “In the Frame” will be a regular feature in Observations.


In the Critics:

In the Critics this week, Richard Mabey writes his last seasonal diary of the year. “Mid-autumn … has a special frisson on the Norfolk Broads,” Mabey observes. “The reeds begin to bleach and reflect the sunsets … The last migrants leaving for Africa cross with the first arriving from the tundra, the swallow flying under the goose.”

In Books, NS editor Jason Cowley reviews Jana Ganesh’s biography of George Obsborne. Sarah Churchwell is put off by the sentimental uplift of AM Homes’s novel May We Be Forgiven; Yo Zushi finds much more nourishment in David Byrne’s How Music Works; Leo Robson reviews Tom Wolfe’s new novel Back to Blood; William Skidelsky contests Steven Poole’s attack on “foodism” in You Aren’t What You Eat; and Beatles biographer Hunter Davies recalls the moment John Lennon called his book’s carefully cultivated image “bullshit”, and admits perhaps he didn’t told the whole truth.

Elsewhere in the Critics: Ryan Gilbey on Sam Mendes’s Bond film Skyfall; Rachel Cooke, for better or worse, calls Lena Dunham’s Girls “like nothing you’ve ever seen before”; Antonia Quirke listens to Simon Callow’s wine-tasting on Classic FM; and Alexandra Coghlan watches a screening of the multimedia installation Decasia, performed with a live score, at the Southbank Centre.

And in Real Meals, Will Self contemplated the “gravy and hard biscuits” diet of the American south-west, as immortalized by John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath.


Purchase this week's issue of the New Statesman on newstands today, or online at


Charlotte Simmonds is a writer and blogger living in London. She was formerly an editorial assistant at the New Statesman. You can follow her on Twitter @thesmallgalleon.

David Young
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The Tories are the zombie party: with an ageing, falling membership, still they stagger on to victory

One Labour MP in Brighton spotted a baby in a red Babygro and said to me: “There’s our next [Labour] prime minister.”

All football clubs have “ultras” – and, increasingly, political parties do, too: although, in the case of political parties, their loudest and angriest supporters are mostly found on the internet. The SNP got there first: in the early days of email, journalists at the Scotsman used to receive bilious missives complaining about its coverage – or, on occasion, lack of coverage – of what the Scottish National Party was up to. The rest soon followed, with Ukip, the Labour Party and even the crushed Liberal Democrats now boasting a furious electronic horde.

The exception is the Conservative Party. Britain’s table-topping team might have its first majority in 18 years and is widely expected in Westminster to remain in power for another decade. But it doesn’t have any fans. The party’s conference in Manchester, like Labour’s in Brighton, will be full to bursting. But where the Labour shindig is chock-full of members, trade unionists and hangers-on from the charitable sector, the Conservative gathering is a more corporate affair: at the fringes I attended last year, lobbyists outnumbered members by four to one. At one, the journalist Peter Oborne demanded to know how many people in the room were party members. It was standing room only – but just four people put their hands up.

During Grant Shapps’s stint at Conservative headquarters, serious attempts were made to revive membership. Shapps, a figure who is underrated because of his online blunders, and his co-chair Andrew Feldman were able to reverse some of the decline, but they were running just to stand still. Some of the biggest increases in membership came in urban centres where the Tories are not in contention to win a seat.

All this made the 2015 election win the triumph of a husk. A party with a membership in long-term and perhaps irreversible decline, which in many seats had no activists at all, delivered crushing defeats to its opponents across England and Wales.

Like José Mourinho’s sides, which, he once boasted, won “without the ball”, the Conservatives won without members. In Cumbria the party had no ground campaign and two paper candidates. But letters written by the Defence Secretary, Michael Fallon, were posted to every household where someone was employed making Trident submarines, warning that their jobs would be under threat under a Labour government. This helped the Tories come close to taking out both Labour MPs, John Woodcock in Barrow and Furness and Jamie Reed in Copeland. It was no small feat: Labour has held Barrow since 1992 and has won Copeland at every election it has fought.

The Tories have become the zombies of British politics: still moving though dead from the neck down. And not only moving, but thriving. One Labour MP in Brighton spotted a baby in a red Babygro and said to me: “There’s our next [Labour] prime minister.” His Conservative counterparts also believe that their rivals are out of power for at least a decade.

Yet there are more threats to the zombie Tories than commonly believed. The European referendum will cause endless trouble for their whips over the coming years. And for all there’s a spring in the Conservative step at the moment, the party has a majority of only 12 in the Commons. Parliamentary defeats could easily become commonplace. But now that Labour has elected Jeremy Corbyn – either a more consensual or a more chaotic leader than his predecessors, depending on your perspective – division within parties will become a feature, rather than a quirk, at Westminster. There will be “splits” aplenty on both sides of the House.

The bigger threat to Tory hegemony is the spending cuts to come, and the still vulnerable state of the British economy. In the last parliament, George Osborne’s cuts fell predominantly on the poorest and those working in the public sector. They were accompanied by an extravagant outlay to affluent retirees. As my colleague Helen Lewis wrote last week, over the next five years, cuts will fall on the sharp-elbowed middle classes, not just the vulnerable. Reductions in tax credits, so popular among voters in the abstract, may prove just as toxic as the poll tax and the abolition of the 10p bottom income-tax rate – both of which were popular until they were actually implemented.

Added to that, the British economy has what the economist Stephen King calls “the Titanic problem”: a surplus of icebergs, a deficit of lifeboats. Many of the levers used by Gordon Brown and Mervyn King in the last recession are not available to David Cameron and the chief of the Bank of England, Mark Carney: debt-funded fiscal stimulus is off the table because the public finances are already in the red. Interest rates are already at rock bottom.

Yet against that grim backdrop, the Conservatives retain the two trump cards that allowed them to win in May: questions about Labour’s economic competence, and the personal allure of David Cameron. The public is still convinced that the cuts are the result of “the mess” left by Labour, however unfair that charge may be. If a second crisis strikes, it could still be the Tories who feel the benefit, if they can convince voters that the poor state of the finances is still the result of New Labour excess rather than Cameroon failure.

As for Cameron, in 2015 it was his lead over Ed Miliband as Britons’ preferred prime minister that helped the Conservatives over the line. This time, it is his withdrawal from politics which could hand the Tories a victory even if the economy tanks or cuts become widely unpopular. He could absorb the hatred for the failures and the U-turns, and then hand over to a fresher face. Nicky Morgan or a Sajid Javid, say, could yet repeat John Major’s trick in 1992, breathing life into a seemingly doomed Conservative project. For Labour, the Tory zombie remains frustratingly lively. 

Stephen Bush is editor of the Staggers, the New Statesman’s political blog.

This article first appeared in the 01 October 2015 issue of the New Statesman, The Tory tide