Morning Call: pick of the papers

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

1. Could Chris Huhne take Nick Clegg or David Cameron with him? (Daily Telegraph)

The by-election in Eastleigh brought about by the Lib Dem's resignation will be fought viciously and will expose every rift in the coalition, writes Peter Oborne.

2. A crisis needs a firewall not a ringfence (Financial Times)

We cannot solve our banking problems until the eurozone does too, says Alistair Darling.

3. Gay marriage: no one can stop this social revolution now (Independent)

Some lives will be improved, a wider signal conveyed about tolerance, but the legalisation of gay marriage will have a negligible effect on the next election, says Steve Richards.

4. The shadow of 1914 falls over the Pacific (Financial Times)

China, like Germany 100 years ago, fears the established power is intent on blocking its ascent, writes Gideon Rachman. 

5. Voters won’t listen if the Tories talk only among themselves (Daily Telegraph)

The Mid-Staffs report demands a united front, but the party is rowing over gay marriage, writes Benedict Brogan.

6. The end of nuclear power? Careful what you wish for (Guardian)

Flawed and stalled as the plans for toxic waste may be, at least they exist, says George Monbiot. There is no way to clean up CO2, the greater evil.

7. There’s no such thing as an MP’s private life (Times) (£)

Chris Huhne’s fall was personal, not political, writes Rachel Sylvester. But in today’s Westminster pressure cooker that counts for nothing.

8. George Osborne: hedging his bets (Guardian)

The Chancellor wants to eat his cake and have it when it comes to banking reform, says a Guardian editorial. 

9. Gay marriage and a split no one wanted (Daily Mail)

In the depths of the worst economic crisis in living memory, the Prime Minister has pushed this fringe obsession to the top of his programme for government, says a Daily Mail editorial.

10. Israel, Palestine and the mapping of power (Guardian)

In portraying politics rather than geography, Ramallah and Jerusalem are displaying instincts as ancient as Ptolemy, writes Tristram Hunt. 

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A swimming pool and a bleeding toe put my medical competency in doubt

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Sometimes the search engine wins. 

The brutal heatwave affecting southern Europe this summer has become known among locals as “Lucifer”. Having just returned from Italy, I fully understand the nickname. An early excursion caused the beginnings of sunstroke, so we abandoned plans to explore the cultural heritage of the Amalfi region and strayed no further than five metres from the hotel pool for the rest of the week.

The children were delighted, particularly my 12-year-old stepdaughter, Gracie, who proceeded to spend hours at a time playing in the water. Towelling herself after one long session, she noticed something odd.

“What’s happened there?” she asked, holding her foot aloft in front of my face.

I inspected the proffered appendage: on the underside of her big toe was an oblong area of glistening red flesh that looked like a chunk of raw steak.

“Did you injure it?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”

I shrugged and said she must have grazed it. She wasn’t convinced, pointing out that she would remember if she had done that. She has great faith in plasters, though, and once it was dressed she forgot all about it. I dismissed it, too, assuming it was one of those things.

By the end of the next day, the pulp on the underside of all of her toes looked the same. As the doctor in the family, I felt under some pressure to come up with an explanation. I made up something about burns from the hot paving slabs around the pool. Gracie didn’t say as much, but her look suggested a dawning scepticism over my claims to hold a medical degree.

The next day, Gracie and her new-found holiday playmate, Eve, abruptly terminated a marathon piggy-in-the-middle session in the pool with Eve’s dad. “Our feet are bleeding,” they announced, somewhat incredulously. Sure enough, bright-red blood was flowing, apparently painlessly, from the bottoms of their big toes.

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Often, what patients discover on the internet causes them undue alarm, and our role is to provide context and reassurance. But not infrequently, people come across information that outstrips our knowledge. On my return from our room with fresh supplies of plasters, my wife looked up from her sun lounger with an air of quiet amusement.

“It’s called ‘pool toe’,” she said, handing me her iPhone. The page she had tracked down described the girls’ situation exactly: friction burns, most commonly seen in children, caused by repetitive hopping about on the abrasive floors of swimming pools. Doctors practising in hot countries must see it all the time. I doubt it presents often to British GPs.

I remained puzzled about the lack of pain. The injuries looked bad, but neither Gracie nor Eve was particularly bothered. Here the internet drew a blank, but I suspect it has to do with the “pruning” of our skin that we’re all familiar with after a soak in the bath. This only occurs over the pulps of our fingers and toes. It was once thought to be caused by water diffusing into skin cells, making them swell, but the truth is far more fascinating.

The wrinkling is an active process, triggered by immersion, in which the blood supply to the pulp regions is switched off, causing the skin there to shrink and pucker. This creates the biological equivalent of tyre treads on our fingers and toes and markedly improves our grip – of great evolutionary advantage when grasping slippery fish in a river, or if trying to maintain balance on slick wet rocks.

The flip side of this is much greater friction, leading to abrasion of the skin through repeated micro-trauma. And the lack of blood flow causes nerves to shut down, depriving us of the pain that would otherwise alert us to the ongoing tissue damage. An adaptation that helped our ancestors hunt in rivers proves considerably less use on a modern summer holiday.

I may not have seen much of the local heritage, but the trip to Italy taught me something new all the same. 

This article first appeared in the 17 August 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump goes nuclear