Article: 2022 – The Year Reality Checked In

There will be many sage reviews of 2022. This is not one of them. You don’t need me to remind you of the tragi-comic twists and turns of Tory contortion and corruption, the end of the second Elizabethan era (and the reinvention of HMQ as someone who relentlessly smiled), the surprising mid-term performance of Biden’s Democrats, the miserable machinations of Putin and Xi, the failure to keep 1.5 alive, the unconscionable aborting of Roe v Wade, the elevation to hero status of that peerless people’s champion, Martin Lewis… All of these will be amply covered elsewhere.

Instead, allow me to make just one observation about 2022: reality checked in.

When the Queen died, my mischievous son Dan hoped Charles would opt for an interesting regnal name. Dan was rooting for him to dub himself Arthur. After all, the country needed a lift, and it’s not as if there was any national gravitas left to protect.

But it turned out 2022 was not to be a year of diving deeper down the rabbit hole of  myth. Charles chose Charles. And the time for reliance on stories about our country and ourselves – our sun-never-sets history and our world-beating future, our sceptered isle, our Albion – came to an abrupt halt. Because the most significant event in 2022’s sorry calendar was the busting, courtesy of Truss and Kwarteng, of the myth of Conservative fiscal responsibility – and with it, our collective propensity to prefer romance over evidence, a malaise which had dogged the last several years of British politics.

This reality check came, as we know, at a time of confluent economic calamity. First, the energy price hikes resulting from the Russia/Ukraine war. Second, additional inflationary pressure courtesy of Brexit and supply chain issues, home and abroad. Third, interest rate rises from a Bank of England charged with controlling inflation with the bluntest of instruments, but also seemingly intent on following the Federal Reserve’s unhelpful direction of travel. Fourth, the coming home to roost of twelve years of Tory economic choices, now unadorned and unprotected by the flamboyant prolixity of the pantomime premier, Britain (or was it Briton?) Trump. So much reality, landing with so much synchronicity, on one poor unsuspecting kingdom, and no hero to pull the sword from our troubled stone..

It matters that the seismic shift in the polls away from the Tories has coincided with these economic setbacks. Because there is a school of thought which suggests that, in times of economic woe, the Tories gain votes, because the British public believes that Tories – the natural party of business and finance – do sound economics. And if the public is persuaded that belt tightening is necessary, then the Tories are the people to make those unpopular choices for the good of the country.

But the polls suggest that this faith in innate Conservative fiscal expertise has vanished in a puff of smoke. Moreover, there is an awareness that we have already had twelve years of tightening – is there really scope for more? Would it be fair? And would it even work? Cameron and Osborne’s austerity did not deliver prosperity, or anything remotely resembling it. If substantial public support for striking workers is anything to go by, the old Tory offer of bitter medicine today, in return for promised jam tomorrow, simply isn’t washing. We want the economy to work for us, and not the other way round.

We can’t know for sure whether this loss of credibility will really result in wholesale abandonment of the Conservatives in the privacy of the ballot box, come the general election. That assay may be a good year away, and much could change in the interim. In the meantime, the only hope the Tories have is to sell the idea that Truss and Kwarteng were an uncharacteristic blip, and to return to the old line that, if times are hard, you need Tory rectitude, and not Labour profligacy, to get things back on track. This leaves Prime Minister Sunak little room for manouvre, even if he wanted it. With accusations of weakness from Starmer, he has no choice but to go for a tough approach to government spending, and to take a risky hard line on (so far) popular strikes. It doesn’t augur well for 2023.

At the same time, Labour has an opportunity, unique in recent memory, to lay to rest the myth of Tory economic capability once and for all. Before the demise of Johnson, before the catastrophe of Kwarteng and Truss, such was the collective compulsion to believe in a Britain unrestrained by reality, that there were things which simply could not be said. Truths which simply could not be uttered. That Brexit has failed is one of them. That steady immigration is a prerequisite of growth is another.

But there is a truth bigger even than those, and more fundamental: the Tories are, forgive my French, fucking terrible at managing the economy. On every key metric, Labour are demonstrably better. Any voice in voters’ heads suggesting that only the Tories can set the economy straight must be strangled at birth. The party of sound economics is, on all the evidence, the Labour Party.

Such has been the power of Tory myth, that this truth is rarely uttered. From ‘Labour Isn’t Working’, to Cameron and Osborne’s effective pinning of the blame for the global financial crisis onto Brown, via accusations of failing to fix the roof while the sun was shining, and Gordon selling the gold while ‘maxing out the credit cards’, the national story has been that Labour may be ‘nice’, but they can’t manage the economy, whereas the Tories may be ‘nasty’, but that’s what makes them good custodians of the public purse.

There’s a technical term for this story: bollocks. If you want evidence – and you should -take five key metrics, and weep.

ECONOMIC GROWTH

On growth, Labour do better. Austerity strangles the economy.

GOVERNMENT BORROWING

On borrowing, there is no competition. Labour held borrowing down while massively improving public services. The Tories, in contrast, have delivered extraordinary increases in borrowing, alongside devastating cuts. Truly the worst of both worlds.

UNEMPLOYMENT

How about unemployment? Remember those “Labour Isn’t Working” posters? In truth, almost every year under Labour saw below average unemployment. Most years under the Conservatives saw above average unemployment. And we know that the current recession is set to turn staff shortages into rising unemployment.

INFLATION

How about inflation? You’ll hear our Tory chancellor and Prime Minister warning that it is an evil which harms us all, as if they alone took its harm seriously (and as if they had nothing to do with steering us into the inflationay corner in which we find ourselves). But guess what? The record shows that only the Conservatives have delivered inflation over 4% — and we all know that painful recent figures will only make the comparison far, far worse.

WAGES

Wages have fallen under the Conservatives. After twelve years of Tory, pay packets are smaller than they were under Labour. No surprise that we’re seeing foodbanks running out of food, and unprecedented strikes by workers who feel abandoned and betrayed. Enough is enough of not enough.

That’s the big takeaway of 2022. The Liz and Kwasi Kwartrusstrophe blew the long-unchallenged lie that the Tories could be trusted with the economy. It was never true, but now we’re allowed to say it out loud.

Labour has the chance to rebrand, justly, as the party not just of decency and fairness, but of sound economics. It’s imperative that this vital terrain is no longer gifted to the Conservatives. The time for indulging in myths – in romantic visions of our country, made somehow strong by poetic belief in legend or empire or flag – is behind us. There is another way, based in evidence and founded on fairness, which trumps Tory entitlement to govern on every metric that matters.

Sorry, Cameron and Osborne. Sorry, Sunak and Johnson. Eventually light shines on false narratives. Eventually reality checks in on more than a decade of failure. Eventually myths get busted. Them’s the breaks.

Thanks to Mark E Thomas/99% Organisation for charts and analysis.

Review: The Decade In Tory, by Russell Jones

Do you have a politics junkie in your life? Then their next gift is in the bag. Russell Jones’ hugely impressive first book, The Decade In Tory is the politics junkie’s masochistic wet dream. Inspired inevitably by the mega-thread commentaries “The Week In Tory” which have shot him to deserved twitter fame, Jones brings his combination of forensic precision, clear-sighted overview, and cruel mockery to the dark decade of “Tory” beginning with the Cameron government of 2010.

Jones’ journey through the decade charts its twists and turns exactly as the reader remembers them. There is a sickening “oh my God, that’s right, they really did do that, and they really did say that” sensation of recollection, like flipping through a grotesque highlights album of the country’s downfall. Despite this familiarity, the startling claims and even more startling ‘solutions’ emanating from the dramatis personae of the decade in Tory sometimes seem so far-fetched that you want to pinch yourself, or at least check you’re not sharing in a hysterical dream. When that uncertain feeling comes over you, Jones provides ample footnotes in evidence. This stuff really is true.

But Jones doesn’t get lost in, or distracted by the detail. He moves with ease between macro lens and panorama, between the granular and the lofty, and sees the overall trends for what they are. His distaste for the Tories is writ large, but don’t be fooled; there is real political writing here too – thoughtful, informed assessment sits underneath the venom. That’s why his punches hit home, both in his online commentaries and in this substantial book. Jones knows his oats.

For all his smarts, Jones is also rude. “You may have never kissed a Tory, but you’ve still probably spent most of your life being fucked by them.” Of Grant Shapps, he writes, “he had more identities than Jason Bourne, somebody else who people would travel half way around the world to punch.” Jacob Rees-Mogg is described as the result of a Dalek having hate-sex with a pendulum. You get the gist. Some may see this as puerile, but the utter contempt in which he holds the protagonists – or is that antagonists? – in his story entirely justifies, and even demands this level of vituperation. There is plenty of dispassionate political commentary out there, which too often describes hateful political ideas and deeds without taking the logical next step of attributing hatefulness to the characters involved. No such pussy-footing around here. Jones is merciless. Progressives tend to pull punches with the occasional damning quip, while the hard boys of Brexit and beyond use language with blunt effectiveness. For those of us who see the world as Jones sees it, a new critical vocabulary is needed, and if the character assassinations here feel a little uncomfortable, that only serves to underline the point. A new school of informed, forthright opprobrium is growing among the stars of progressive twitter, and Jones’ voice shines among the very brightest.

This book will comfort you. It will confirm for you that the grim decade in Tory was as you remember it; you haven’t gone mad, even if the Tories have. It will sadden you, too, for exactly the same reason. The UK really has plummeted from premier league to non-league in just a few seasons, and at great human cost. (As a barometer of this decline, Jones repeatedly cites the year-on-year increase in the number of Britons reliant upon foodbanks. Each citation is more sickening to read than the last, and the cumulative effect is nothing short of enraging.) And this book will entertain you. There is a bleak comedy to this ‘inventory of idiocy’ as Jones calls it, and you can’t help but laugh as he celebrates it.

The Decade In Tory is a bravura performance. Substantial, meticulous, incredible, depressing, hilarious, rude – and essential reading.

 

The Decade In Tory by Russell Jones is published by Unbound on 27 October, 2022.
Russell Jones on Twitter: @RussInCheshire

Article: The attack on the BBC

Thank you to the Independent for encouraging me to write this article.

In case it goes offline, the original text is below.

My Dad, Edward, is 100 years old. He started paying the BBC licence fee in circa 1945, when he was demobbed from the Royal Army Medical Corps. Now, after this government stopped funding the exemption for over-75s, he is paying it once again. And what he probably doesn’t realise, is that he’s in a war again, too.

The war this time is a culture war. We know, of course, that it has been reignited this weekend as part of “Operation Save Big Dog” to try to distract critics of Boris Johnson’s shameful Downing Street tenure on the one hand, and to throw juicy bones to the Tory right on the other.

This culture war strategy is nothing new. While we react to its agenda-setting horrific pronouncements, this government has been quietly pushing through legislation of which the public is substantially unaware – the Policing Bill, the NHS & Care Bill, the Elections Bill, to name just a few. Our democracy and rights are under coordinated – and largely unnoticed – attack. Such are the benefits to dishonest autocrats of stoking culture wars.

So let’s be clear. We are only talking about BBC funding today because the liar in Downing Street is on the ropes. I am only writing this article, and you are only reading it, because this is what he wants us to do. If that is a sobering thought, we can at least console ourselves with the thought that we are sober, which, evidently, is more than can reliably be said for our boozed-up overlords in No 10.

But make no mistake. The attack on the BBC may be part of a culture war, and it may be part of Operation Save Big Dog (or is that Big Dong? No-one is sure), but it is still an all-out attack.

And, as attacks go, it is cunning and low. The Culture Secretary, Nadine Dorries, tweeted, “This licence fee announcement will be the last. The days of the elderly being threatened with prison sentences and bailiffs knocking on doors, are over.”

Since people like my Dad are only having to resume paying the licence fee because this government refused to pay for their exemption, it is breathtakingly rich of Dorries to present herself as their champion. If any elderly folk are threatened with prison, that will be a direct result of her government’s mean-spirited choice.

This government has no regard for the elderly. We saw how they treated them in the pandemic, with their so-called “protective ring” and their encouragement of Do Not Resuscitate arrangements. We see how they treat them now, leaving them at the mercy of the energy market, equipped only with the lowest state pension of any wealthy economy. For many elderly folk, the box in the corner – and that mostly means the BBC – is a very significant comfort. Now the government wants, effectively, to switch it off.

If the professed care for the elderly is patently disingenuous, what of the criticism that the licence fee is “regressive”? Clearly, insofar as the price stays the same regardless of a person’s income, it is regressive. But then so is the price of a pint of milk; so is the price of a loaf of bread; so is the price of a newspaper. They are all easier on the pockets of the rich than they are on the poor. They’re all regressive.

Yet you won’t hear many tender-hearted Tories saying the price of milk is regressive. It would be meaningless. The price of milk is just the price of milk.

What’s critical is whether the pint of milk is fairly priced. It’s 55p these days, by the way. A second class stamp will set you back 66p. The price of the entire BBC TV, radio and online output is 44p per day.

You can call that regressive; I call it great value.

Branding the licence fee “regressive” is clever propaganda in the culture war, because it makes it sound officially, intellectually, particularly unfair. And it deploys the very language that defenders of the poor use when they complain about things like VAT hikes. If taxes must be raised, most of us prefer the “progressive” variety – those which reflect income. Using the language of compassion to outmanoeuvre and confuse opposition is a particular skill of contemporary Conservatism, and it predates Johnson. Cameron and Osborne were masters of it.

It’s a form of gaslighting really, and, like all gaslighting, it requires continual effort on the part of the victim to keep a clear head. In this case, clear-headedness means understanding the big picture – which, today, is the cynical effort to keep Big Dong standing, if you’ll pardon the grotesque imagery.

Clear-headedness means understanding that the attack on the BBC’s funding model using faux compassion and the language of progressives is entirely dishonest. This government’s record, when it comes to the treatment of the poor and the elderly, speaks for its unconscionable self.

Clear-headedness means understanding that a government with much to hide will always detest being held to account by journalists serving the public interest, and therefore will do all it can to infiltrate and undermine a public service broadcaster like the BBC. The interests of the people, particularly the vulnerable, are best served by well-resourced, independent public service journalism; cutting off the BBC’s legs only allows the ill-intentioned to run amok.

At 100 and still chipping in, my Dad has probably paid more BBC licence fees than pretty much anyone alive in the UK. After all those years of contributions, I reckon it’s his BBC. Johnson’s desperate, dishonest cultural vandals must not be allowed to take it away. Big Dong must not be saved at the expense of the BBC; instead, his demise should mark the start of the long road to restoring decency in this country – and, with it, the return of the exemption for the over-75s. Meanwhile, if the Tories are genuinely concerned about the licence fee being regressive, perhaps they would support the rich paying more?