In this week’s New Statesman: Assange, alone

Jemima Khan on how Julian Assange alienated his allies. PLUS: Who really runs Britain? We reveal the most powerful people you've never heard of.

Jemima Khan: How an Assange supporter became a sceptic

New Statesman associate editor Jemima Khan writes following the Sundance Film Festival premiere of We Steal Secrets, a WikiLeaks documentary she executive-produced and which “[Julian] Assange denounced before seeing”.  She writes:

In many ways, the film’s narrative arc mirrors my own journey with Assange, from admiration to demoralisation.

Once an Assange admirer and committed supporter, Khan even stood bail for the WikiLeaks editor-in-chief in 2010. She reveals in this exclusive essay how he lost her, and others’, support.

Read this piece in full now.


The Shadow Power List: Who really runs Britain?

The new “establishment” of Britain do not reside in Whitehall. They are the directors and chief executives of the companies to which much of the government’s functions have been outsourced. They are unelected, often unaccountable and in charge of ever more of our public services – shaping our lives outside the spotlight. In a special report we profile eleven people “who hold the very British brand of inconspicuous power”.

Rafael Behr writes:

Power in Britain is not contained within boundaries easily definable as “government” . . .

Where we experience the humiliation of powerlessness, this is as likely to be at the hands of a private company as a state institution. When it is a state service, there is every chance its functions have been outsourced to a private provider. ..

[Power] resides on the boards of companies no one has heard of, in quangos, in hedge funds, in networks of friends and former ministerial advisers who work for charitable bodies with opaque remits.


Christopher Hyman, Chief executive, Serco

The National Nuclear Laboratory, the Docklands Light Railway, immigration detention centres, the London cycle hire scheme, NHS Suffolk, the National Border Targeting Centre, air-traffic control services, waste collection for local authorities, maintenance services for ballistic missiles, government websites, prisons and a young offender institution – there is almost no branch of government that has not been penetrated by Serco, the outsourcing behemoth. And few have benefited more from the growth of this shadow state than the company’s chief executive, Christopher Hyman.

Sam Laidlaw, Chief executive, Centrica

Sam Laidlaw, of the privatised utility company Centrica (formerly British Gas), has been described as the “aristocrat” of the energy industry – and his family history indicates how the British ruling class has adapted over the course of a century, from empire to social democracy and the free market. His grandfather Hugh was an executive of the Anglo-Persian Oil Company in India, a forerunner of BP; his father, Christophor, worked his way up through BP to become deputy chairman

Joanna Shields, Chief executive, Tech City

Joanna Shields, the new chief executive of the Tech City Investment Organisation, has internet pedigree, having worked with Google, Bebo, AOL and Facebook. She may have been unable to save Bebo, one of the social networks caught in the squeeze between the dwindling Myspace and nascent Facebook, but her reputation in the tech world remains strong. Her task now is to transform Tech City into Britain’s version of Silicon Valley.

Tony Mitchell, Director, Tesco, supply chain

Tony Mitchell is the model of a Tesco company man. He started on the shop floor in 1978 and worked his way up to store manager, then eventually to head office, and now Mitchell decides what £1 in every £7 in the UK is spent on. Getting on to the shelves at Tesco can make a young company, and getting thrown off them is likely to be the death knell.


Rafael Behr: If Tory MPs can’t decide what kind of party they want, they’ll have to work it out in opposition

In the Politics Column, Rafael Behr writes on the split within the Conservative party, more than half of whom refused “to accept the Prime Minister’s moral lead on gay marriage” in Tuesday’s free vote. This “expresses a more profound reluctance to be led” writes Behr. Many Tories feel they have lost “any sense of ownership” within the government programme:

But complaints that Cameron is inadequately Conservative are “absurd” considering his implementation of core Conservative ideas – in short “he is the ultimate valediction of 20th-century Conservatism.”

If his party thinks that is a monstrous creation, it faces an epic task working out what it wants to be instead. It is the kind of work can only be done in opposition.

Read this piece in full now.




Nicholas Wapshott: What David Cameron can learn from Abraham Lincoln

In the NS Essay, Nicholas Waptshop draws parallels between Lincoln’s fight to repair the union with Cameron’s modern woes over Scottish secession and the EU referendum. He goes on out outline the similarities and differences between the Prime Minister and the 16th US President.

There are poignant similarities between the conundrum that Lincoln encountered 150 years ago and the dilemma David Cameron faces today. They are both confronted with threats to the very existence of the nations they govern . . .

But while Lincoln was presented with the simple option of whether to take up arms to defend the Union or watch as his country split in two, Cam­eron has no such easy choice.


Laurie Penny: Ten years ago we marched against the Iraq war and I learned a lesson in betrayal

Ten years ago this month, millions of people all over the world marched against the war in Iraq- and were ignored. I was one of them...

Tony Blair’s decision to take Britain into the American’s war in Iraq was an immediate, material calamity for millions of people in the Middle East. I’m writing here, though, about the effect of that decision on the generation in the west who were children then and are adults now. For us, the sense of betrayal was life-changing.


In The Critics

Much of the Critics section of this week’s New Statesman is devoted to our annual history special. Featuring the historian David Cesarani on the changing face of Holocaust historiography, John Gray on the long and bloody history of political violence, and Britain’s former special representative in Afghanistan Sherard Cowper-Coles reviewing Return of a King: the Battle for Afghanistan by William Dalrymple and Games Without Rules: the Often Interrupted History of Afghanistan by Tamim Ansary.

  • Jonathan Derbyshire interviews historian Norman Stone
  • Ryan Gilbey reviews Pablo Larraín’s film No
  • Kate Mossman reviews new albums by Anaïs Mitchell and Jackie Oates
  • Thomas Calvocoressi visits “Light Show”, a new exhibition at the Hayward Gallery
  • Will Self’s Madness of Crowds.

This and much more in our “In The Critics” blog on Cultural Capital.

Purchase a copy of this week's New Statesman in newsstands 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.

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What’s the secret of the world’s best-paid sports manager? Ask the Chicago Cubs

Theo Epstein is a star because he values the person as much as the player.

As I write, the Chicago Cubs, perennial underachievers, are three wins away from reaching baseball’s World Series for the first time since 1945. By the time you read this they may have crashed out. Besides, baseball – like cricket – is a language that asks a lot of its translators. So, in writing about the Cubs, I’ll skip the baseball bits. Fortunately, the lessons of the Cubs’ success (they were the outstanding team of 2016, even if they don’t win the World Series) transcend baseball.

To understand the future of sport – and perhaps employment – I recommend a pair of profiles of Theo Epstein, the president of baseball operations for the Cubs, one published in the New York Times and the other written by David Axelrod (Barack Obama’s strategist) for the New Yorker.

Epstein, 42, has just agreed a contract extension worth $50m over five years, making him the highest-paid non-player in professional sport. There is plenty in the profiles on his whizzy use of data analytics; his algorithmic tests that measure players’ co-ordination (essentially using neuroscience to measure talent); as well as the Cubs’ coaching programme dedicated to mental health and managing stress. Most timely and important of all is Epstein’s emphasis on character. He talks about “scouting the person more than the player”. He wants the right kind of people on the field.

“In the draft room [where the team decides which players to sign], we will always spend more than half the time talking about the person rather than the player,” he has said. “We ask our scouts to provide three detailed examples of how these young players faced adversity on the field and responded to it, and three examples of how they faced adversity off the field.”

Epstein is well known for empowering a “geek department” inside his baseball teams. Yet instead of perceiving a conflict between science and the human realm, he sees the two as part of the same big picture. He craves players with character who can benefit from the insights of science.

“Character” is a vexed subject inside sport. It sets off uncomfortable associations. Talking too much about character – building it, or even just valuing it – sounds dangerously close to endorsing an amateur ethos. Victorian public schools often celebrated sport explicitly in opposition to intelligence, even achievement. H H Almond, the headmaster of Loretto from 1862, got an A for candour (if nothing else) when he ranked his school’s priorities: “First – Character. Second – Physique. Third – Intelligence.”

The Victorian notion of games cast a long shadow over sport and society in the 20th century. The first phase of ultra-professionalism, in the office as well as on the sports field, was a reaction to Almond’s set of values. The concept of character was recast as a consolation prize, doled out to the class dunce or the twelfth man. Crucially, reformers and nostalgics alike bought in to the historical perception of a separation or conflict between character, intellectual life and sporting achievement.

The Cubs, however, know better. To adapt Almond’s clumsy saying: intelligence and physical skills derive, significantly though not entirely, from character. Character is now being understood not as the destination, but the foundation, even the process.

This is an overdue reassessment. In the loosest terms, I would identify three phases in the development of professional sport. Phase one optimised the body. Sadly, though we are still inching forward, the human body is now reaching the outer wall of virtuosity. All sports will tail off in speed of progress, in terms of pure physicality.

Phase two of modern sport turned to psychology. Realising how hard it is to gain an edge through physical conditioning, everyone suddenly started talking about the mind: the inner game of this, the mental game of that. However, reconfiguring the mental approach of elite athletes – already in their twenties and thirties, with deeply ingrained habits and highly evolved psychological software – is also exceptionally difficult. That is why many top athletes recoil from conventional “sports psychology”; the discipline is oversold and under-sceptical.

We are now entering phase three: the whole person. Sustained high achievement relies on something much deeper than a few sessions with a sports psychologist. So you need the right people in the room.

Coaches in future will be numerate and intellectually unthreatened by the scientific advances that illuminate sport. But the best coaches will never lose sight of a parallel truth: that although science can help us to understand what happens on the sports field, and sometimes how to do it better, it cannot conveniently convert athletes into inert particles, as though it were a ­physical science. Coaching can benefit from ­science but remains an art – one that revolves around understanding and helping people.

In most sports, players and coaches are really in the business of decision-making. The winning team, as Pep Guardiola says, makes more good decisions. Sport, in other words, advances when it trains people to make better decisions. There are now highly evolved analytical techniques for understanding how those decisions influence results. However, the athletes themselves are still people, imperfect and imperfectible. If you want machines, you get dummies.

This month, I was asked to found a new institute of advanced sports studies at the University of Buckingham. The mission is to create undergraduate and postgraduate courses that attend to the entire mindset – critical thinking, ethics and leadership, as well as data analytics and sports science: a kind of “PPE of sport”. After a misleading triple fissure – character, body, mind – sport is starting to put the pieces back together again. That’s why, this month, I’m rooting for Epstein’s Cubs.

Ed Smith is a journalist and author, most recently of Luck. He is a former professional cricketer and played for both Middlesex and England.

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