Morning Call: pick of the papers

The ten must-read commment pieces from this morning's papers.

1. US has been let down by its leadership (Financial Times)

A deal that extends unsustainable tax cuts for 98 per cent of Americans is no victory, says Nouriel Roubini.

2. Iain Duncan Smith's polemic is politics at its most cynical (Guardian)

How does the secretary of state's conceit, that in-work benefit claimants are fraudsters, serve the public interest, asks Zoe Williams.

3. Cosy up to China – are you sure about that? (Times) (£)

It’s easy to envy the boom, but as Beijing’s influence spreads around the globe we must confront the human cost, says David Aaronovitch.

4. We can end the elderly care lottery (Guardian)

Means-testing winter fuel payments could prevent old people losing their assets and their dignity, argues Paul Burstow.

5. Let taxpayers share rail fare pain (Independent)

More effort must be made to spread the investment costs more widely, says an Independent editorial.

6. Britain would vote to stay in the EU (Financial Times)

The UK electorate would almost certainly opt for the status quo, writes Gideon Rachman.

7. Fighting back against the left-wing guerrillas (Daily Telegraph)

Foes of public sector reform are waging war at a local level – they must be roundly beaten, says Sean Worth.

8. America could still go over the cliff — and take the rest of us with it (Daily Mail)

The American people, and, indeed, the rest of the world, urgently need to revise their view of how economically strong this ailing superpower really is, says Simon Heffer.

9. Christopher Martin-Jenkins: we're all the poorer for his passing (Daily Telegraph)

Our institutions need many more 'outsiders’ with the enthusiasm and knowledge of Christopher Martin-Jenkins, says Peter Oborne.

10. Cosmetic surgery is bad. That women feel the need for it is worse (Independent)

Now even the British Association of Aesthetic Plastic Surgeons is demanding change, writes Mary Ann Sieghart.

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For the first time in my life I have a sworn enemy – and I don’t even know her name

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

Last month, I made an enemy. I do not say this lightly, and I certainly don’t say it with pride, as a more aggressive male might. Throughout my life I have avoided confrontation with a scrupulousness that an unkind observer would call out-and-out cowardice. A waiter could bring the wrong order, cold and crawling with maggots, and in response to “How is everything?” I’d still manage a grin and a “lovely, thanks”.

On the Underground, I’m so wary of being a bad citizen that I often give up my seat to people who aren’t pregnant, aren’t significantly older than me, and in some cases are far better equipped to stand than I am. If there’s one thing I am not, it’s any sort of provocateur. And yet now this: a feud.

And I don’t even know my enemy’s name.

She was on a bike when I accidentally entered her life. I was pushing a buggy and I wandered – rashly, in her view – into her path. There’s little doubt that I was to blame: walking on the road while in charge of a minor is not something encouraged by the Highway Code. In my defence, it was a quiet, suburban street; the cyclist was the only vehicle of any kind; and I was half a street’s length away from physically colliding with her. It was the misjudgment of a sleep-deprived parent rather than an act of malice.

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

I was stung by what someone on The Apprentice might refer to as her negative feedback, and walked on with a redoubled sense of the parental inadequacy that is my default state even at the best of times.

A sad little incident, but a one-off, you would think. Only a week later, though, I was walking in a different part of town, this time without the toddler and engrossed in my phone. Again, I accept my culpability in crossing the road without paying due attention; again, I have to point out that it was only a “close shave” in the sense that meteorites are sometimes reported to have “narrowly missed crashing into the Earth” by 50,000 miles. It might have merited, at worst, a reproving ting of the bell. Instead came a familiar voice. “IT’S YOU AGAIN!” she yelled, wrathfully.

This time the shock brought a retort out of me, probably the harshest thing I have ever shouted at a stranger: “WHY ARE YOU SO UNPLEASANT?”

None of this is X-rated stuff, but it adds up to what I can only call a vendetta – something I never expected to pick up on the way to Waitrose. So I am writing this, as much as anything, in the spirit of rapprochement. I really believe that our third meeting, whenever it comes, can be a much happier affair. People can change. Who knows: maybe I’ll even be walking on the pavement

Mark Watson is a stand-up comedian and novelist. His most recent book, Crap at the Environment, follows his own efforts to halve his carbon footprint over one year.

This article first appeared in the 20 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Brothers in blood