by Craig Oliver
Whenever anything like this happens, you can guarantee someone will say, ‘We can’t be complacent.’ Several people do.
Some of us are reminded of a scene in Game of Thrones where there’s a duel. One of the fighters is winning by a mile – prancing around, showboating. He could kill off his opponent at any point, but he doesn’t. When he finally moves in for the kill, he is pulled down, and his head is crushed.
Come Tuesday, Lynton’s research lands with a thud in the village.
And yet … we are also swimming against a tide of excoriating reviews of yesterday’s Treasury document. The broadcast news was a dream – with the Institute for Fiscal Studies calling it credible – but the papers attempt to tear it apart. The Sun has a picture of George mocked up as Sid Vicious, with a ‘Never mind the bollocks’ theme.
DC wants to do more to derail the Leave campaign. He says he went to bed thinking of an attack ad on the US presidential candidate Michael Dukakis, where he was going round and round in a tank, looking like a fool. There was a cool, calm voiceover pointing out the need for someone who can take control. He slams the Leave campaign ‘going on about bananas and Hitler’ – before pointing out extraordinary pictures of Boris in a sports car doing donuts on last night’s news. Amid the burning rubber, Boris came out looking sick. The metaphor is obvious.
There’s a danger we win the campaign argument, but lose the war. We are definitely seen as the slick, sensible people, while they can be a rabble. But what if they do tap into the common rage? I think again of, ‘I’m as mad as hell and I’m not going to take this any more!’
Today’s Mail front page declares that fifty MPs are ready to demand a leadership contest when all this is done.
I have a meeting at Stronger In and I march to the Tube with my phone glued to my ear. As I do, there’s a strong gust of wind which blows the wreaths placed carefully on the Cenotaph into the middle of the road. A woman and I end up stopping traffic to pick them up and place them back as respectfully as we can. Some have broken apart and I feel a real sense of sadness.
As I get to the other side of the road, I find Charles Moore, the Telegraph columnist, hurrying along. I always find him extremely pleasant. He asks me if we plan to continue using ‘Project Fear’.
‘Can I start by saying, it feels a bit rich for the campaign that claims five countries are going to join the EU by 2020, sending millions of immigrants here, to claim we are using “Project Fear”. But if you are asking if we intend to keep talking about the negative impact on the economy of leaving – we will.’ It’s all very good-natured.
Later on, we have another debate prep session. George comes in, hoping to talk about the PMQs where he is standing in for DC tomorrow. He points out that he has the order paper from hell and wants to know what we suggest in terms of dealing with it. First on the order paper is Richard Drax, who accuses him and DC of effectively betraying the country on a regular basis, then Philip Davies, who often takes pride in being offensive.
Basically, George wants to know what we think about hitting back. DC is clear, ‘In my experience being snippy is a disaster.’
He says it’s far better to smother them with kindness and to keep your answers short. George evidently feels he’s been given a hospital pass.
I often think our one big advantage is the Leave campaign refusing to learn from its mistakes. On Wednesday 25 May, the Institute for Fiscal Studies says Brexit poses a serious danger to the economy. Despite the fact they are commonly held to be the exemplar of independent analysis – as the BBC’s Norman Smith says, ‘Like Moses delivering a tablet of stone’ – Leave releases a statement calling them ‘A paid-up propaganda arm of the EU.’ I raise a smile as Norman’s report concludes that this is like ‘thrashing the ball into the back of their own net.’ The systematic trashing of experts seems risible – surely it can’t work?
Paul Johnson of the IFS is brilliant at explaining the issues – ridiculing Leave for the claim that we send £350 million a week to the EU as plain wrong and pointing out that even if it wasn’t, just a 0.5 per cent drop in GDP would wipe out any hope of saving the money. In other words, there won’t be more money if we leave the EU, there’ll be less, because the economy will shrink, or at least grow at a slower rate. The middle course of projections is that we will lose six per cent of GDP.
The case really should be closed. But there’s a spectre of doubt that looms over us: immigration. It feels clear and present in people’s lives – just as our numbers and acronyms feel distant and abstract.
When the day’s polling and focus group data comes through, that point is indisputable – people are moving towards Leave and the numbers thinking the economy is central are coming off. It’s causing a real wobble in our core group.
Even though the polls are questionable, they inevitably dominate our thinking. A minor uptick within the margin of error makes us feel relief, whereas a downtick makes us sag. Intellectually, we know it’s voodoo, but on such things morale is built. I wonder if we will discover that all the polling was built on sand and one side will win far more decisively than expected.
I’m in a meeting on campaign posters in the tiny room in Stronger In, when DC calls from Japan. I slip out into the corridor to give him an update. He seems fairly relaxed, but he lets slip that beneath the placid surface, the undercurrents are churning. ‘Every time I see a bad poll, I feel knocked back,’ he tells me.
I squeeze back into the room with Will, Peter Mandelson, Stephen, Ryan and Tom. An agency has come in with a set of posters. Each of them has what could be an advert in Saga magazine for an over-sixties holiday or a country club. Comfortable, old people enjoying retirement. Each has a headline such as, ‘We don’t care if we leave the EU’ and then a sub-heading like, ‘We expense our travel anyway.’ I have been set up by Tom Edmonds to come in as the bad cop and point out it is a terrible idea. Fortunately I have no problem, its core thought – that young people must vote because a self-satisfied, selfish group of old people do not have their interests at heart – is poorly executed.
They look like nice people. I aspire to be like them: comfortable in retirement.
I find Peter Mandelson an interesting figure – so much of his reputation as a cold, Machiavelli goes before him. For the most part he’s charming. He spots that I am drinking coffee and acts horrified. ‘What are you doing to your skin? You will be horribly dehydrated!’
‘I’ve got lovely skin,’ I joke.
‘Don’t take it for granted,’ he chides, ‘you may lose it!’
At the end of the meeting, there’s a view that we should hit Boris hard with the toughest of all posters. It is the direct descendant of the Ed Miliband peering out of the SNP leader Alex Salmond’s top pocket poster that was so effective in the general election. It shows Farage sneering as he looks down at a surprised-looking Boris, peeking out of his pocket and clinging on to the fabric of a pinstripe suit. The Leave campaign will howl with rage and cry foul. I suggest we give it to the Guardian – with a briefing that it backs up our polling that Boris has been seen as moving ever closer to the Farage agenda.
James McGrory does the briefing. Then mid-afternoon I get cold feet. I do not think DC and George are ready for this. I say we should not give the poster over until I have had a meeting with George back in Downing Street.
Part of George sees the point, but he also realises that it would be unleashing the dogs of war. We would never hear the end of it and it would legitimise even more personal attacks on us. We decide to pull back. Will is understandably irritated, but forgiving. I apologise, thank him – and say everyone is having moments where they are failing to show grace and consistency.
I break out early to take my children to the semi-final of Britain’s Got Talent – the one treat I have allowed myself and them as we approach the final month of the campaign. I’m just crossing the road to the studios in Wembley with them, when I get a call from Ed Llewellyn, ‘I want to tell you something concerning. Jim Messina ha
s come back with his latest polling. There’s been a drop of six per cent in the Remain vote since his last big sweep. It’s now neck-and-neck. And that is the case across the country. Apparently there’s a bunch of Obama advisers working for Leave. They’ve come up with nearly the same thing, with Remain just one point ahead.’
I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do with this. There’s very little context. Should we completely review? Should we hold our nerve?
I text Stephen Gilbert, who responds: ‘It says it’s very narrow. Regressed a bit since his last calling in September. But it is unweighted and not in line with other polls. I am speaking to him tomorrow to properly understand it.’
I also text Will Straw to get his take. He comes back: ‘Worrying. I think it stands up Ryan’s analysis from earlier. Outside SW1, Leave are (1) derisking Brexit by saying it’s all a conspiracy & (2) making status quo risky. I suspect that we have devalued our risk message somewhat too & need more on “stronger, safer, better off”. We should think hard tmrw about how to correct.’
I try to relax into the evening. It’s fun – and my children love being charmed by David Walliams. During a commercial break, we’re waved onto the stage and introduced to Simon Cowell. Inevitably the referendum comes up and I tell him it’s tight.
He says, ‘It’ll be fine,’ but nagging at the back of my mind is the prospect that we really could lose this.
Chapter 22
A Sticking Plaster on a Gaping Wound
IT’S NOT ON the news, but Thursday 26 May is significant. It’s the last day the civil service machine can be working to support the Government’s position to Remain.
At midnight, we go into a period of ‘Purdah’, where we aren’t allowed to use any resources paid for by the taxpayer. I will effectively resign and go to Stronger In. A ratio has been worked out – eighty per cent of my salary will be paid by the campaign, a fifth by the Government, because I will have to deal with issues other than the referendum.
I wake at five, knowing I’m not getting back to sleep.
I plough through the diet of pro-Brexit, anti-us stories – then send the PM a media digest. He picks up on my highlighting of the Times editorial saying we should be worried by how little people trust us over Europe, that we are hyperbolic and suggest we got a better renegotiation deal than we did.
We discuss whether we need to do something to correct this.
We do, but not until we’ve got to the bottom of Jim Messina’s analysis of the worrying polling he sent through last night. He’s sent through a further email, which says what we really need to care about is moving our message, encouraging voter registration, and getting out our vote.
He points out that the most important date right now is the voter registration deadline of 7 June. He also says we urgently need volunteers to make phone calls to supportive postal voters to send in their ballot. He stresses that those volunteers need to be high-quality self-starters, capable of writing a letter to their local newspaper supporting Remain and talking to/emailing/Facebooking five friends or family about voting.
The gold standard of voter contact is door-knocking, both for increasing support amongst persuadable voters and boosting turnout among supporters. Currently, volunteers are doing no real door-knocking for the In campaign.
The next best is a massive ‘digital push’ with a ‘deadline is imminent’ message for voter registration and postal voting. He details plans for Facebook, Instagram and Snapchat.
I arrive in Downing Street, ready for the 8.30 meeting to be chaired by George, but five minutes in, Ed Llewellyn and I are told the PM wants to talk to us from Japan. We make our way to Ed’s office. The switchboard put the call through to Ed’s BlackBerry. He places it on a chair where Larry the Downing Street cat often sits. It is thick with white fur.
DC comes on the line. He sounds remarkably cheerful, telling us he’s surveying the oyster beds from his summit bedroom window.
He asks me to bring him up to speed. I tell him it’s immigration day – with deeply uncomfortable Office for National Statistics numbers about the possibility of another four million people coming to England in the next few years being published shortly and closely followed by the official net migration figures, which are now 330,000 (well over three times our target). We had no control over when the numbers emerged. Our response will be that we accept immigration is a problem, but trashing our economy is no way to deal with that. David Blunkett is going out to make our case.
There’s no point in hiding it, the immigration numbers will be an unmitigated disaster for the Remain campaign – and our response is no more than a sticking plaster on a gaping (possibly fatal) wound.
Almost as concerning is that a commentariat view is growing that we are overdoing it on the economy. I sum this up in an email to him afterwards:
PM:
I wanted to send you a note ahead of your press conference tomorrow.
A view is crystallising in the commentariat that we are hyperbolic in terms of our focus on the economy if we leave.
The consequence is that people are starting to feel they are being spun.
The effect of this may be people become switched off, disengaged and don’t vote; or they actively believe the crap that it is all an establishment conspiracy and are driven into the arms of Leave.
This does not mean we should back off risk as a core message.
Risk is fundamental to this campaign – and it must be clear in people’s minds as they vote. Stephen and Ameet firmly agree.
What we need to consider is our tone.
We almost have the opposite issue to the general election.
Then people thought you didn’t want it enough.
Now we look like we want it too much.
So I think we need to tap into your ‘statesman’ quality more and shift tone a little.
I walk over to North House with Stephen Gilbert for a Stronger In meeting. He’s constantly looking over his shoulder, waiting for Michael Crick to doorstep him over a general election campaign issue. The poor guy has too much on his plate, but he’s handling it well.
We have a lot to talk about. First on the agenda is the television debates. Several people, including Lucy Thomas, who I have asked to lead on the debates, are worried about Angela Eagle being put up by Labour in the final BBC extravaganza at Wembley Arena. She’s too much like Ruth Davidson, who is a far more formidable debater and should definitely be on the team.
I also point out that no one has taken these debates seriously enough, dismissing them as almost irrelevant, and I’m prepared to bet we’ll be in a stew on 21 June, wondering if we are going to win, and lamenting the fact we didn’t put up our strongest team. Will is reasonable and agrees that he will go back to Labour, but I sense he’s struggling to get any traction with a suspicious Leader’s office.
I head to the dentist. I’ve somehow managed to damage a wisdom tooth.
I have an hour-long appointment. A beefy Jewish man in his sixties, with a charming manner – he’s very good at what he does. He tells me he is going to give me gas and asks what my tolerance for alcohol is. I say ‘pretty good’ – and he says he’ll take that into account. I feel nothing for a minute or two, then suddenly I am swept in the air and floating several feet above the reclining seat I am lying on.
The sensation is one of complete peace, being only vaguely aware of a man injecting me and tearing away at my jaw.
I float back down to earth – and reality intrudes immediately. The highly respected John Curtice has delivered some bullet points about where the race really is. It echoes what Jim Messina and Ryan Coetzee are saying:
It’s much closer than the headlines.
Remain probably ahead a bit.
Tory vote has swung a bit to Remain, but party still badly split.
Not clear warnings have influenced economic perceptions.
Economy is a clear Remain issue; migration a wildly Leave issue; security no one’s issue. Influence a Remain issue b
ut most people don’t care that much.
Remain and HMG had successfully held the ground on the economic argument. The Leave campaign had never put Remain on the defensive on economy.
A BBC team wants a briefing on what Stronger In is planning going forward. I do my duty, before laying on thick my growing concerns about their coverage. They often strike me as being like a rabbit stuck in the headlights of the Leave campaign approach.
The classic example is the claim that when we leave we can spend the £350 million a week we supposedly save on the NHS. The IFS and ONS have now dismissed the figure as completely wrong and yet there are endless shots of the Leave bus parading round the country with it on, as well as clips done with people standing in front of it. The most senior BBC figure there tells me, ‘The problem is – that is their number and they want to use it.’ This is absurd – does it mean I can make something up that suits me and assert it?
To be fair they do challenge it in their more discursive programmes, but what I’m concerned about are the mass-market short bulletins and website images that end up being seen by tens of millions.
Their campaign coverage is more about balancing the claims and counter-claims of the two campaigns, instead of a focus on ‘due impartiality’, reflecting where the weight of expert opinion is. The key word is ‘due’ – giving contributors the coverage they deserve. I point out I’d be laughed out of the room if I tried to suggest that the BBC should give as much weight to a climate-change denier as they do to all the scientists who believe it’s real.
The £350 million for the NHS isn’t the only issue. Leave are often allowed to assert that Turkey is about to join the EU, complete with broadcasts showing arrows indicating tens of millions of immigrants flooding into the UK; also that there will be an EU army we will be forced to join, and that the overwhelming majority of our laws are decided by Brussels. None of this is true. The BBC point to the ‘Reality Check’ strand, but it’s not in simple bulletins that are the most watched or listened to, or anywhere near the top of other running orders.