A JOURNEY
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Rereading them now, I think they have contemporary relevance so let me summarise them briefly. The purpose, in each case, was not simply to state a policy but to describe an evolution of my own thinking based on my experience in government.
This comes back to something I said in the opening chapters. In 1997 I had boundless vision, but no political experience of policymaking in government. People sometimes analyse politics as if a new government arrives, it has a programme, it works at getting it done, and succeeds or fails in that endeavour.
However, real-life governing, like anything else in life, isn’t like that. There is nothing mysterious, still less mystical, about ‘government’. It is indeed like any other activity. You learn as you go. You learn facts; and of course events can change them. You learn processes. You learn the art and science of your profession. But because political power is the outcome of a political fight – ‘our’ ideas, platform policies against ‘theirs’ – the inclination is to treat the business of government as the closing of the door on the old home and moving to somewhere new. Actually you don’t change ownership; you change tenant.
It is therefore quite sensible to try to understand why the previous tenant did this or that, what they learned and what they found when living there. Unfortunately that education is inconsistent with the way politics is conducted. In an age in which objectives are often shared and it is policy that is crucial, where the issue is often not right or left but, as I have said earlier, right or wrong, this is a significant democratic disadvantage. You spend several years relearning what the last occupant could have told you from experience.
So in these late speeches I chose policy areas where I thought there was a lesson to impart.
The first was on law and order. It concentrated on what I discovered in the course of trying to deal with crime, a huge issue for the public which always looms larger for the people than the politicians. I had started with the good old mantra ‘tough on crime, tough on the causes of crime’. Good as far as it goes. What I learned was that the real problem was that in a world of very sophisticated crime – gangs, drugs, people trafficking, money laundering, to say nothing of terrorism – and deep social issues giving rise to a type of criminal underclass, traditional law and order didn’t work. I understand the traditional view: prove guilt conventionally, according to the normal judicial processes. Sorry, but with these people, it doesn’t work. If you want to beat them, you need draconian powers that can be wielded administratively and with instant effect. Hence the antisocial behaviour laws, DNA database, ‘proceeds of crime’ legislation, anti-terror laws and so on. Now you may decide that this is too high a price to pay, in terms of traditional liberties. Fine, but – and this is what I learned – it is the price. If you don’t pay it, you don’t get the result.
The trouble is you can identify those who will say – sometimes with justification – we the accused have been denied our rights. But you can never identify adequately the lives lost or buried by criminality unchecked. They are victims and the criminality could be stopped; but not by conventional means. So choose; but don’t delude yourself that it is not a choice.
Linked to this was a speech on social exclusion. Here I was referring specifically to my own education from the time of the Bulger speech back in 1993. I used to think that the shocking behaviour of some young people – violence, knives, drug abuse – was a symptom of a society that had lost its way. In that sense, I presaged David Cameron’s later claim of a ‘broken society’.
Over time, I came to the conclusion I was making a dangerous error in eliding the behaviour of what is actually a tiny minority with society as a whole. The truth is most young people are fine, good even, actually better than I remember many of my generation being. It really isn’t true that the shocking behaviour is definitive of society. In fact, it is the opposite: it is wholly exceptional, of a different character. Therefore rather than policy being analysed and then prescribed in the context of general ‘society’, it should instead be absolutely, specifically focused on the exception. When you examine the data, this is not about ‘young people’ or even ‘poverty’. It is about families that are utterly dysfunctional. And neither is this about ‘family life’. Most families, despite all the stresses of modern living, are not dysfunctional. They function. Even those that are marked by divorce or separation. A tiny minority don’t. So concentrate on them.
For these families, we need special intervention that again can’t be done by normal social services procedures. For them, the absence of state interference is not a liberty, it is encouraging them to destructive behaviour that damages them and all around them. There is no earthly point in making periodic visits or checking up on them from time to time. They require gripping and seizing. To do that effectively their ‘rights’ need to be put into suspense, including the right to be a parent. These families are not hard to identify. Neither are their children. I’m not suggesting every such situation means children are taken into care and so on; I’m merely making the point that any policy needs to be formed out of the box. Otherwise it won’t work.
Where there is a wider lesson for society, is in the field of personal responsibility for health. In this third speech, I set out why, over time, I had come to the conclusion that a modern health care policy had to encompass strong intervention on diet and fitness.
Normally, I am highly suspicious of regulation. Not in this arena; because the cost of poor diet and lack of fitness is borne by the nation as well as the individual. So I made the case for the smoking ban, for food labelling, and above all for sport. In respect of sport, I tried, not with complete success I fear, to persuade the system that sport was part of the day job, i.e. it should be part of mainstream policymaking. We had increased massively the investment in and priority given to sport in schools. I set out the case for going further but also for making that part of an infrastructure in which we opened up fitness opportunities and dietary advice to everyone, going well beyond the elite. My theory was that there was plenty of focus on healthy lifestyles, and much more advice, but the problem was organising, coordinating and widening access to it. I supported Jamie Oliver’s school dinner programme for the same reason. These issues are no longer an afterthought, a bit of fun at the end of the ministerial day. They are of the essence.
The fourth speech again concerned a quiet passion of mine that was partly the result of missed opportunities at school: science. I had been a woeful student. Failed my physics, gave up on chemistry, scraped through in maths, never bothered with biology and spent the rest of my life regretting it! For some reason or other, I just couldn’t grasp it. I felt a deep stupidity about it, unable to glimpse let alone see fully its principles and elements, in any shape that bestowed understanding. So my early life in regard to it passed in a slough of frustration, incomprehension and indifference.
Now I am fascinated by science and by its possibilities; in awe of how its progress is changing our world and the lives we lead.
The purpose of the speech was threefold: to explain why science was important; why we had doubled investment in it under the very able guidance of David Sainsbury; and why we should not let its critics undermine its ability to break new ground. I had been having a ferocious argument with critics of GM food, led as ever by the baleful siren of the Daily Mail, who invented all sorts of nonsense to suggest it was a health hazard.
I had also battled with the same people over Leo and whether he had had the MMR vaccine. There was an attempt by a Dr Wakefield – later discredited – to suggest it was linked with autism. The Mail took it up. The issue was then framed as to whether Leo had had it – if the government is saying it’s safe, has the prime minister’s son had it?
It was not actually an unreasonable question and it would have been better frankly if we had just answered it upfront at the outset. But for private reasons the family was sensitive about issues to do with Leo, and so we argued on the ground of saying: the issue of Leo’s vaccination is not for the publi
c domain. However, very soon, we realised we couldn’t sustain it. We then said, off the record, Look, we believe vaccination is best for children, including Leo, and we wouldn’t ask others to do what we would not do for Leo so draw your own conclusions; and of course that was an effective admission. So the journalists knew perfectly well that Leo had been vaccinated. But part of the media contrived to write that it was unclear and so public concern continued.
The speech set out a strong defence of science and drew the distinction between the right of science to tell us the facts, and the right to decide to act on them or not. What should not happen in the public debate is that, for reasons of prejudice or because we wish the facts were different, anti-science or bogus science suppresses the truth. From Galileo through Darwin to the modern day, that has always been the consequence of such an attitude; and today a nation like Britain cannot afford to be governed by it.
The next speech was on ‘multiculturalism’. Again it was an attempt to move policy on from a sterile debate about whether diversity is a strength or weakness. To me, it was clearly a strength. But, with citizenship should come certain clear duties as well as rights. This was a common space, which all British citizens should inhabit together. This space included support for basic British values, for our language, culture and way of life. In that regard, we should not be diverse; but unified. Outside of that space, diversity should be free to roam; and then it was indeed a strength.
I gave another speech on defence which set out my basic philosophy; but also made one very practical point. We need a new deal for the armed forces today. We are asking them to go back into combat and sustain casualties. For almost fifty years, the Falklands and Northern Ireland duties apart, that wasn’t the case. So we need to equip and reward them properly. However, if we fail to participate in the battles ahead, usually with our American allies, then we will lose the armed forces as a significant part of what gives Britain influence, reach and power.
The seventh speech was about the workplace. Rereading it, it strikes me as a little intellectually incoherent but it had one germ of an idea. Essentially, I was trying to articulate that the modern workplace is today all about utilising human capital and developing it. In this regard a ‘management/workers’ mentality was completely out of date. So rather than concentrating on a zero-sum game with management or capital, government and unions should be demanding the ability for their creativity and skill to be used to maximum effect; and should be active participants in the concept as well as the delivery of wealth creation. Hence government policy should be oriented towards lifetime upgrading of skills, not to labour market regulation.
The subject of the final speech was irresistible after ten years of being prime minister: the media! Naturally I knew they would dismiss it, caricature it and generally ridicule it. In one sense I was worst placed to speak about it. No one has sympathy for politicians and the media, and politicians (and me especially) have to spend much time cultivating the media. So the charges of being self-serving, hypocritical and disingenuous are easy to make. I was still determined to make the speech, because, in another sense, only someone with that experience of dealing with them, and with the position and office of prime minister, can dare articulate the criticism.
I wrote it having got up at 4.30 a.m. and just set it down in one draft. I confess as I read it later, live on TV, before an audience of journalists, I somewhat quailed. It was written as felt; and the feeling was strong.
However, the argument was right: the fact that the media now works by impact, which leads to sensation, crowds out a sensible debate about policy or ideas. What’s more, the media is 24/7, incredibly powerful and yet without any proper accountability. When they decide to go for someone, they are, as I said, like ‘feral beasts’. But more than that, they are also, partly through the presence of competition, highly partisan in order either to get maximum impact or to put across the views of their proprietors or editors.
Anyway, you can imagine how it went down! Though even today, people both at home and abroad mention the speech to me. Despite the best efforts to distort or discard it, it had cut through.
The last weeks were dominated by the Scottish elections and then the final preparations for leaving. I had now pencilled in the date of 27 June, after the G8 and European Council summits. During that time we hoped to bring the Northern Ireland peace process to final fruition and restore the power-sharing executive, and I was working flat out on that.
We had an interesting contretemps with Iran when they arrested fifteen Royal Navy personnel on 23 March. The Iranians said they were trespassing in Iranian waters, which we were sure was wrong, but it created some anxious days. Though I was outraged by the Iranian action, I played it very cool. The only thing that mattered was getting them back, and soon, so we went the diplomatic rather than confrontational route, despite criticisms for doing so. Unfortunately, some of the personnel were paraded on camera looking as if they were being overly friendly to their captors; and when they were released twelve days later – a ‘gift’ to Britain, as President Ahmadinejad called it – some gave accounts to the papers. This caused much synthetic fury, especially among those papers who hadn’t got the story. I just felt sorry for all of them. They were in a totally unexpected situation with little or no experience in dealing with anything like that, so I was inclined to overlook any lapse of judgement. But it occupied the nation’s mind for days.
We put forward proposals for reforming the House of Lords. Gordon was signalling he wanted an elected house. Jack Straw had become an advocate for partial election and proposed options. I went along with his recommendation, but personally, as I cheerfully told the Liaison Committee at my last appearance before them in June, I thought it mad. There’s a huge head of steam behind it now, though I still somehow doubt it will actually happen.
The House of Lords is a funny old place, a uniquely British institution. Though I’m naturally attracted by iconoclasm, in this instance I think the uniqueness is worth preserving. Hereditary peers are a nonsense and really can’t be justified, but the argument between electing and appointing members is far more balanced than the proponents of election ever allow. The danger with appointment is cronyism, placemenship, patronage and so on, but that can be countered by a different system of nomination, as indeed the House of Lords Commission introduced in May 2000 now ensures.
The danger with election is that you end up with a replica of the House of Commons, the only difference being that you elect those who for one reason or another can’t get into – or don’t want to get into – the Lower House. The whole benefit of the existing House of Lords is that you are able to put in people who have not spent life as a full-time politico, who aren’t replicas or ersatz versions of MPs, but who have a different and deeper experience or expertise. For example, to have had someone like Ara Darzi as a lord and a health minister – someone who is a surgeon and knows all about the new frontiers of medical care – is a huge bonus for the political talent pool. Indeed, the ministers in the Lords often turn out to be among the most able, but I doubt many, if any, would want to put in the political apprenticeship necessary to stand for election and become an MP.
Also, it depends on the function you want the House of Lords to perform. If it is a revising chamber, even better to have a different type of member in it. If you want a competing chamber, then I accept that the case for an elected house is stronger. But look around the world at the examples of such bicameral competitiveness, and there aren’t many working well; or, at least, not many that don’t lead to significant gridlock. So all in all I was against it.
The election campaign for the Scottish Parliament got under way in April. We had won twice before, but this time would be much harder. We were also coming up to the ten-year anniversary of the government. This was a huge achievement for the party, the first time it had ever got near such a milestone and I thought there was a real chance to focus on some of the successes of that decade.
The truth is, wha
tever anyone might say, and whatever has happened subsequently, between 1997 and 2007, Britain had ten years of uninterrupted economic growth. (I deal later with the causes of the 2008 crisis.) The living standards of the poorest 20 per cent improved significantly compared with the Tory years. Pensioners stopped dying for lack of heating every winter. The NHS was taken out of the news as a crisis case, and waiting lists and times improved, in some cases by leaps and bounds (where was it as an issue in the 2010 election?). In 1997, there were nearly a hundred London schools with fewer than a quarter of pupils getting five good GCSEs. By 2007, it was way down to two. The academy programme was now roaring ahead. It was the only government since the war under which crime had fallen rather than risen. We had introduced a plethora of individual items of change, from the first statutory minimum wage through to vastly expanded maternity and paternity leave through to gay rights and Sure Start for children. Inner cities in Birmingham, Bristol, Leeds, Liverpool, Manchester, Newcastle, Nottingham and Sheffield were regenerated. There was a huge new constitutional settlement and reform. And while many disagreed with the decisions on Iraq and Afghanistan, in 2007 Britain counted in the world, had a strong alliance with America and was a key player in Europe. There was also Northern Ireland. Taking a step back and examining it, the decade had been reasonably successful.