Skip to main content

Cliffe notes; autumn changes

The following is a briefing on UK politics I wrote for my boss, Matthew Parris, on Tuesday 18th, covering the previous ten days. 

The air is chillier here now, and not just because of Autumn. Since you’ve been away, EU talks have stalled further. No Deal has risen in prominence. The prospect of economic disaster seems more real, and more worrying, than ever before. This is a step change. Speaking personally, the consequences of Brexit have always felt quite abstract for me. They still do, partly because there seem so many possible outcomes, but No Deal is beginning to get under my skin. Even worse is the problem we’ve had since the referendum: no big figure in either main party is willing to tell the truth, at least while the prospect of their own personal success still glimmers. But when has politics ever been different? The referendum, as we’ve said, changed those rules and those laws, but nobody seems to have noticed, and personal fulfilment, whether of ideology or selfish ambition, remains the interpretative lens for British politics, even as the eclipse of our status in the world suggests we ought to be reaching for a more existential one. 

The drift seems to be in Labour’s favour. At PMQs today, Jeremy Corbyn wiped the floor with Theresa May, as only both of them could. He was sharper than usual, tossing out whipsmart repartee, and trouncing the prime minister on the economy. As ever, though he won, he lacked anything resembling a killer touch. She went through the motions, like a Labour adviser playing the part of a generic Tory PM for the Leader of the Opposition to practice against. You know, ‘Labour government, debt & mess’, ‘Tories for the strong economy’. To jeers she talked about an energy cap bringing fairness, and you felt even more that her ‘Tory strong economy’ line was empty backbencher rote. 

Jeremy Cliffe, ex-Bagehot columnist and Economist Berlin Bureau chief, started a political party on twitter and then resigned twelve hours later from the leadership. I thought one of the more interesting aspects of his sally was the derisive reaction from political journalists. Put simply, there’s not much good faith out there. Yes Cliffe's idea was probably foolish and maybe it’s just Twitter. But Twitter can strangle things at birth. 

Another issue coursing through the body politic these last few days has been the continuing fallout from the Harvey Weinstein allegations. The hashtag #MeToo has been trending all over social media (by which I mean Facebook and Twitter), as women share their experiences of sexual harrassment, both in the workplace and in general life. The revelations have been astonishing and depressing. A huge portion of women appear to have been assaulted, groped, or aggressively pursued. It is generating a great deal of momentum. It may be that in twenty years we look back at the Weinstein scandal as a fundamental shift in male/female relations. There is a definite sense of watershed. But, as ever, the online world can be like sticking your head under the shower, you’re overwhelmed by the sound of the water, yet step outside and you can forget it in a moment. The trick is judging when the rubicon has been crossed, so to speak. At the least, I feel women will be much more confident in calling out, as the lexicon has it, inappropriate behaviour. There will too, no doubt, be a counter-revolution of sorts at some point. Indeed some of this has already taken place on the online pages of the Spectator, with the usual grim suspects (Young, Delingpole) duking it out with the forces of light. Fraser Nelson ought to cleanse the Spectator of their rubbish (the two predictables), no matter how many clicks they bring in.

In summary, there is, at some level, a sense of change: the Brexit talks appear to be going from bad to worse; the silent dominance of men over women appears to be close to ending. But support for Brexit has not fallen off a cliff, nor indeed has support for the Tories, despite their struggles. And it remains to be seen how quickly or effectively the online awakening about sexual harassment and assault will spread into the analogue world. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Pt 1: Malevolent buildings/Crystal Spires

It can see you. Wherever you turn, you know it’s watching. Think you’re safe hidden within four walls? Think again. Those three evil eyes at the top can see through bricks and mortar with x-ray vision.   What am I talking about? The eye of Mordor Elephant & Castle aka Strata SE1 aka ‘Razor’, one of the more evil looking buildings in London, with its wind turbine apertures that look like eyes. I remember leaving for work in the mornings when I lived in Brixton and casually, even nonchalantly, glancing backwards as I crossed the Brixton Road and BAM. There it was. Staring right back.  Ugh. Creepy.  Thankfully, where there is darkness, there may be light. The fell presence of this all-seeing towereye is combatted by a mast to the south of the city. Hardly exciting sounding I know, a mast. Great. But just as some buildings can produce an irrational disquiet, so can others come to mean much more than what they seem. Rewind to eleven years ago. Edinbur...

Bloody politics

We’re all fox-hunters. It’s just some of us are more honest than others. These days we sneer at past generations and their blood sports: Roman gladiatorial contests; early-modern bear-baiting; Victorian bare-knuckle boxing. And we have a point. Those sports prized the blood-spatter. Ignore your conscience briefly, though, and imagine what the spectators might have felt. An almost giddy thrill, plus deep relief: thank god it was not your blood in the sand. But even to indulge this thought experiment feels wrong. That past is foreign.  I class fox, deer, and bird hunting in that same group. I think they're outdated, outmoded, and will soon be out of fashion. I also don’t think I’m alone in this – look at the huge reaction to the Tory manifesto commitment to repeal the fox hunting ban. Hunting is part of a bloodsport world sustained by an aspect of human nature that is disappearing. That's why I scoffed when I read Gilbert White, an otherwise astute observer, say the fo...