A Challenge For Wisbech

A Challenge For Wisbech

A full council meeting tonight for Fenland District Council has finally managed to bring to a close (of sorts) a couple of issues which have plagued Wisbech for quite some time.  First the taxi rank, in accordance with the wishes of just about everybody will now not move.  Then, the Wisbech Market Place will not receive the benefit of either option 1 or option 2, but will be (subject to their negotiations) handed lock, stock and barrel to Wisbech Town Council to manage.

So – the Taxi Rank.  New councillor Dave Patrick, leader of the taxi drivers, who campaigned mostly on the issue in this year’s by-election for Kirkgate will no doubt be very pleased.  It’s certainly the right result from a democratic point of view given that the majority of local people support it staying where it is.  However, the area will now be subject to a safety audit in order to make sure it is not a terrible accident waiting to happen.  The trouble is – it could well be a terrible accident waiting to happen.  Privately – a number of cab drivers have expressed their fear about it to me as have members of the public.  There’s certainly a lot of vehicles in a very small area coupled with  a heavy footfall.  So what the safety tests will report is anybody’s guess.  I just hope that Councillor Dave Patrick knows what he has let himself in for.  He’s taken a very populist route, which I think is a fair and reasonable thing to do – but having set himself so thoroughly against a move for the taxi rank - anything that happens now will be laid, fairly or unfairly, at his door.  Only time will tell who was right on this difficult issue.  I don’t envy him this delicate position.

My views on the Town Centre are well known – I supported option 2 which was previously decided upon by the Area Joint Committee and supported by the Town Council, almost all the Wisbech councillors, the town centre traders, the Chamber of Commerce and a large section of the public.  I still think the best result would have been to just get on and do Option 2.  However, after all the debate and controversy, Fenland cabinet have chosen to throw a very interesting and innovative curveball.  They’ve chosen to hand the responsibility for the area to Wisbech Town Council.  As a committed localist I find this a very exciting suggestion.  This is, after all, exactly what localism is all about.  Devolve the decision to the most local body that common sense allows. 

It’s a big responsibility and one that the Town Council have expressed a willingness and excitement about.  Good for them!  The ball is now in their court, as it were.  Let’s see where they go with it.  Any support they need at county level they will certainly get from the Wisbech County Councillors.  I just hope that the controversy is now over and we can get on and implement something which will benefit traders, shoppers and all the residents of – and visitors to – Wisbech.  The capital of the Fens.

A lively and serious debate was had tonight and I was impressed by many who spoke.  Particularly Cllr. Roger Green, Cllr. Simon King, Cllr. Jan French and the fiery leader Alan Melton.  Kudos must particularly be given to council leader Alan Melton and his cabinet for being so creative in their ideas and also being so willing to take on board the views expressed to them.  Whatever criticism anybody might want to level – I don’t think anybody can fairly say they haven’t been responsive and imaginative.  Equally, Wisbech Town Council have shown a willingness to get their hands dirty and a great deal of courage in stepping up to this potential new responsibility.  Both administrations have emerged looking modern, cooperative and intelligent.  Some will argue that this isn’t perfect – and they’d be right.  But nothing is perfect.  This is, however, fair.  I don’t think we could ask for more than that.

Good Odds

Good Odds

The betting company, Ladbrokes, have worked out the odds for different people being “the next Conservative leader.”  I was excited to see Steve Barclay MP getting 66/1.  This must be looked at in perspective.  Steve is a brand new MP, has never been a cabinet member, and has a low profile compared to the party members who’ve been around a long time.  Yet his 66/1 position is actually very high!

For instance, that is the same odds that Ladbrokes gives to the much-lauded Zak Goldsmith.  Also the same odds that Labrokes gives to Nick Clegg (though that seems a little generous to Clegg – how could he ever end up leading the Conservatives?  That’s just plain silly.)  And it is better odds than; Iain Duncan Smith, Damian Green, Dominic Grieve and Eric Pickles.

But its not what they say that is interesting – but rather what (or whom) is not mentioned.  The fact that Steve Barclay is on the list at all must mean something – because few (if any) other new MPs are.  The list is mostly for people with high media profiles (in order to attract gamblers.)  Clearly, our local MP has something which has got Ladbrokes interested enough to give him odds.  At 66/1 I would humbly suggest it is a value bet.  If you enjoy a flutter – put some money on it.

Showdown At High Noon

Showdown At High Noon

I’ve just spent a lovely afternoon at the Tydd St. Giles Summer Garden Fete.  The villagers do this every year and raise money for worthy funds – this year was in support of the local church.

Like most fetes, there were many enjoyable little games which cost 50p to take part in and from which you could win fun prizes if you were dextrous/ skilful / lucky (delete as applicable).  I managed to spend about thirty pounds during the worthy business of throwing things through other things, catching things with other things and picking successful tickets/ cards / bottles in amusing games of chance.

The star of the show was supposed to be local newspaper luminary Breakspeare, but he couldn’t make it and sent John Elworthy (editor of the Cambs Times / Wisbech Standard etc.) in his place.  John judged the cake-making competition and the art competition.

Not long after High Noon John found himself standing near me at the “throw some golfballs into a net” competition.  Like wild west gunslingers we approached each other.  Around us, the villagers fell silent as we circled one another – eyes locked with fierce intensity.  John cocked his eyebrow at the net.  “Reckon you kin score more ‘n me?” he drawled lazily, a challenge in his voice.
“Yep,” I said, more confidently than I felt, “Reckon I kin!”  You could have heard a pin drop as I picked up the balls and threw them, one at a time, into the net.  I missed a couple, but the bonus ball came good.  Ninety points. 

I stepped aside and John took up his place, an air of easy assurance in his movements.  I was sweating.  Had he done this before?  Was he some sort of ancient fen champion at this game, having spent many a long night in moonlit fields amongst black market ball-throwers taking part in illegal golf ball hurling tournaments?  I don’t know if it was the blistering desert sun, the cry of a crow over the wild fens or just a bad day for the editor, but he scored only thirty points. 

It had seemed a lucky escape and I made my way quickly to the “throw a beanbag into various small holes on a wooden board” competition.  John Elworthy was nowhere to be seen so I paid my 50p and picked up the six beanbags.  Apparently the idea was to have the highest score by the end of the day.  Different holes had different scores you could earn if you managed to negotiate a beanbag through them. I asked the current high score and was told is was ‘52′.  There was really only one way to beat that score.  All six bags would have to go through the difficult “10 point” hole. 

“Okay then,” I said.  “Here we go.”  One by one I hurled the tiny bags and, the luck of the devil riding with me that day, one after another they dropped into the ten point hole.  I scored the maximum possible sixty points and whooped with joy.  (Of course, nobody else was taking any of this as seriously as me, and the Tydd folk politely ignored my enthusiasm – for which I thank them!)  John Elworthy arrived, looking for another showdown.  “What was his score?” He asked menacingly, picking up the beanbags. 
“Sixty,” Said the lady. 
John dropped the bags, huffed quietly, and went to play something else. 

Steve 2 – John Elworthy 0. 

Result!

In all seriousness, what a fantastic local event put on by the people of Tydd St. Giles.  They have every right to be proud of what they achieved today – and it was good of John Elworthy to give up his time to attend.  I had a great time!

Unlikely.

Unlikely.

Eric Pickles continues to roll out his localism agenda in new and interesting ways.  Reading Iain Dale’s blog today I picked up on an announcement that I hadn’t yet seen elsewhere, made during an interview Iain did with Eric Pickles.  I hope Iain Dale wont mind if I repeat the text he quoted as I’d like to comment on it.

Iain Dale: The cabinet system in local authorities is very unpopular with a lot of people. If local authorities wanted to change that and go back to the committee system, what would your reaction be?

Eric Pickles: Fine. We will be putting something into the local government bill to let them do that. I don’t care how things are organised. They can have it on the basis of a committee system, on a cabinet basis, on the mayoral system. If they want to introduce it on a choral system with various members of the council singing sea shanties I don’t mind, providing it’s accountable, transparent and open. That’s all I need to know.

The cabinet system has strengths and weaknesses.  We’ve discussed some of them on this blog before in response to the critical comments of some readers.  But I don’t want to comment on whether I like the cabinet system or not – it’s like commenting on whether or not I like the sky.  It’s there.  It’s not going away.

I can imagine a lot of things if I put my mind to it.  I can imagine a future where free energy is abundant.  I can imagine a world with no war.  I can imagine the colonisation of different planets as Mankind reaches for the stars.  I can even imagine a Labour party which didn’t destroy the national economy (though that’s a tough one.)  But I cannot imagine a cabinet voting itself out of existence in a move back to the committee system. I just can’t.

This, That & The Other (Reprise)

This

I spent today in London at the Houses Of Parliament.  Steve Barclay MP secured tickets for my mother and I to go see Prime Minister’s Questions – but since the Prime Minister was out of the country it fell to Nick Clegg to face the Wrath Of Khan Jack Straw.  I have to grudgingly admit to my Liberal Democrat pals that Nick was on fire – his verbal dexterity beat the living tar out of a struggling and blustering Jack while barely breaking a sweat himself.  The Labour herd, moo-ing and jeering as best they were able, still didn’t manage to change the end result.  In fact, i’m not sure Straw scored even a single hit on the Deputy In Yellow. 

The fact is – although I enjoyed Nick Clegg’s responses very much (and so did everybody else in the gallery) there was no need for him to reply at all.  As I remarked to my Mum, he could have just as easily raised a little placard that had the words: “You spent all the money” on it and waved it at the opposition after every question.  Why have you cut this thing?  You spent all the money.  Why are you cutting that thing?  You spent all the money.  Why are you doing this horrible, disastrous thing that will end the world as we know it?  You spent all the money.  What makes the response so powerful, so difficult to challenge, is that its absolutely right and (mostly) everybody knows it.  Everybody who isn’t Labour, anyway.  They are still living in denial. 

Steve Barclay managed to squeeze some time between meetings to show us around the House on a whirlwind tour.  I’ve never been before so this was really quite exhilerating for me.  And while anything I say or describe could not possibly do justice to the incredible grandeur and historic elegance that is our seat of government I would make one simple comment that sums it up nicely for me : In the United Kingdom we know how to do ceremony, don’t we?  We understand that celebrating our long and colourful history and keeping our breathtaking buildings in excellent order adds infinite gravity to all that goes on there.  What an amazing place.

That

I caught on the news today that a court in Israel has just convicted a man of a crime called: “Deception Rape.”  What the man did was lie in order to talk a young lady into having ”personal relations” with him.  The act itself was entirely consensual and neither party denies that at all.  A newspaper explains that she is unhappy because in their brief courtship he told her he was Jewish, but in fact turned out to be a Palestinian.  He also told her that he wanted a “committed relationship” and then left before she had even gotten dressed.  The court agreed that  this was a serious crime, found him guilty of a form of rape and gave him a custodial sentence. 

The guy was clearly what we’d have called a “cad” in the old days or what might now be called a “player” by people who have forgotten that there are actually nice ways for men and women to treat one another.  Liars of this kind are what mums and dads warn their daughters about all over the world.  But are Israel serious in setting a precedent that engaging in some sort of deception during seduction means that a person can be tried for rape? 

This seems a very bad idea to me.  Rape is one of the most serious of all crimes – a violent, horrific, terrible act and to compare it to any completely consensual pairing between adults is an insult to those people who have been its tragic victims. 

Thinking back to my teenage years - I remember many people engaging in exactly this kind of ‘deception’ in order to woo.  One person I knew used to tell every girl he met that he was a professional footballer – and, as amazing as it might seem, I think some believed it!  I have it on good authority that even young ladies have been known to tell a porky or two while chatting to a potential beau. 

If any single young men out there were considering travelling to Israel in the near future might I respectfully suggest that you are very careful what you say and who you say it to.  The last thing you would want is claim to be from London when you are in fact from Winkleton-on-sea, or that you are athletic and energetic when you are in fact an asthmatic dominoes player, or that you have a mountain of money when you have in fact spent all the money.   You might end up in court with very serious charges against you.

The Other

Apparently the news folk were in a bit of a tizzy about today’s various announcements regarding withdrawal from Afghanistan.  I wonder if they were short of news – because it seemed perfectly clear to me.  But time and again I heard some journalist ask something along the lines of: “Are we going to withdraw our forces by 2015, or is it dependent on the situation?  You can’t have it both ways.”

I was left feeling pretty nonplussed by these odd comments.  I suppose it was mostly driven by Labour, who are so desperate to find policy targets to shoot at that they are now inventing the most improbable challenges – apparently just to hear the sound of their own voices.  The BBC, of course, is always happy to oblige.

What I got from the announcement was this:  We want to have troops out by 2015.  We expect to have troops our by 2015.  It is our sincere ambition to have troops out by 2015.  But because wars have a surprising way of developing in directions you can’t always guess in advance – we wont absolutely promise it. 

This seems reassuring and patently sensible to me.  I pondered why the Labour party would struggle with the simple concept that there is a goal which we expect to meet – but that we wouldn’t sign a name in blood on the document because we recognise that situations can change suddenly.  And then I remembered that they are the Labour Party and trying to puzzle out their thought patterns is like trying to get into the head of the guy on the bridge in Edvard Munch’s “The Scream.”  You have to share their strange world to have any chance at all.  Oh – and don’t forget - They Spent All The Money.

Man’s Best Friend

Man’s Best Friend

I hope you will excuse my brief absence.  We’ve had a family ‘issue’ we were dealing with.  Let me explain.

My dog, Suzy, went missing last Thursday.  Even though my garden is like Fort Knox – Jack Russells are the ultimate escape artists and after several years of looking she found a way out.  I got home quite late from meetings and went immediately out on foot and then in the car looking for her.  Family and friends had already pitched in during the day in doing so but I thought it couldn’t hurt to go out again.  I spent a couple of hours walking around calling her name.  No sign.

On advice from an old friend I tried http://www.doglost.co.uk which are a voluntary organisation that help people find lost dogs.  They had some wonderful ideas and were very supportive.  I also called the council and the local kennels.  I have an advantage in that my best friend’s partner is one of the animal officers at Fenland and so I also had her on the case keeping her eyes peeled.  Still no sign.

Friday turned to Saturday and the chance of a “quick find” disappeared.  Suzy is a nervous dog and as such we felt she would be unlikely to let anybody near her and would probably run if they tried to catch her.  This meant that although she was less likely to be stolen or come to harm at the hands of unpleasant people she was also probably being driven further and further away from home.

We signed up with Petsearch, another organisation that does great work – and we made sure the Identichip people knew she was missing so that they could alert us if she was scanned somewhere (as she is chipped.)  We also put up several dozen posters around our local area.  I blogged and tweeted and posted on social networking sites like Facebook and WisbechPeople.

I really want to thank the scores of people who emailed or messaged me to offer their support and best wishes and regrets.  I don’t mind admitting that our family were getting miserable but the kind words helped a lot.  Big Society might just be a buzzword to some but communities come in many shapes and forms and we are grateful to all those who said such kind and supportive things.

On Monday there was a brief flash of hope – although the sheer number of days was beginning to become frighteningly portentious.  A taxi driver called to say he was sure, based on a poster he had seen, that Suzy had been walking down the middle of the Lynn Road on Sunday night.  Sadly, since it was Monday by then she was long gone when we went to look.  But we put up another load of posters in that area anyway.

I love my dogs.  I’m not ashamed to admit it.  Anybody who has dogs know that they become part of the family in a very integral way.  I held it together in order to be strong for my family but i’ve got to say that by late Monday night my faux optimism was wearing very thin.  In fact, with everybody else asleep, I sat in darkness in my living room and just thought: “Well that’s that then.  She’s obviously not going to be returned.”  She’d been gone five days by this point and with stories of her “walking down the middle of the road” I could only begin to admit the worst.  She does not have a great deal of road sense – that’s the problem.

If you’re not a “dog person” then you’re probably thinking – “Huh?  It’s only a dog!”  And that’s okay.  You’ve got to be a dog person to get it.  But even though I was getting pretty melancholy I thought I should give it another try.  I jumped in the car and in the small hours of Tuesday morning I drove around the dark and quiet roads of Wisbech and looked.  And listened.  I was literally willing some miracle stroke of luck to happen and for her to come trotting up to me out of the gloom.  As you might imagine – she did not.  I went to bed at 2AM, resigned to the likely end to this tale which most would guess to be a grim one.

At 5AM this morning Suzy came home.  She woke me up barking outside our window.  She was at the front door. A little shaky and scared.  With irritated footpads from all the running and walking she had been doing.  A little smelly.  A little hungry.  Very, very thirsty.  But otherwise absolutely fine.  I opened the door and let her in.  She was limping a little from the sore feet so I picked her up and carried her upstairs.  I put her in her basket with some water and some food beside her.  She curled up in her soft blanket.  Sighed very heavily.  And went immediately to sleep.

My family and I are very, very happy to see her little face.  Very, very happy.

Missing Dog

Missing Dog

Sorry to use my blog for such a simplistic thing, but one of my dogs has gone missing and the family are distraught.

This is Suzy.

She went missing at lunchtime on Thursday 15th July in Alexandra Road, Wisbech.  But she could have gotten quite far since then.  If any reader sees her, please let me know by calling 01945 583811 or 07831 616127 and ask for Steve.

There is a reward for her safe return.

Suzy is a female Jack Russell. she is 11 years old and is a much-loved part of our family.  If you live in or near Wisbech please keep an eye out for her.  Don’t try to catch her – she’ll run from you – but do please call us straight away.

It. Gets. Everywhere.

It. Gets. Everywhere.

Ive got a weed in my back garden.  “Big deal,” I hear you cry, “Haven’t we all?”  Yes, we have, but please bear with me.  I can feel an analogy coming on.  Now please note - I am not green-fingered and I don’t have much experience with plants in general so I may make some mistakes when elaborating botanically. 

The weed which is the cause of my woes is called Ground Elder.  It’s deceptive stuff because it doesn’t immediately look like a weed if you aren’t born with shears in your hand and wellies on your feet.  It’s not all ragged and nasty like bindweed, nor does it have the telltale sting of nettles.  Its not poisonous and it doesn’t even look that horrible as long as you don’t mind very bland green leaves filling every square inch of your shrubbery.  Mine grows upwards and outwards making it look a little like a bush.  Or even, in one section of the garden, like a tree.  But let me assure you, however it may initially look, the monstous stuff is definitely a weed.  It. Gets. Everywhere.

Here’s what a gardening website has to say about Ground Elder:

Perennial, spreading mainly by creeping underground stems, sometimes by seed. Although they have been found down to 30 feet or more in cave systems, the roots usually form a network just below the surface, so they are quite easily dug up. However every last trace must be removed because any small fragments will regenerate. This is why this weed is very difficult to eliminate as it is usually growing among other plants. It is premature to declare victory in the battle with Ground-elder without allowing a few years to pass. Vigilance is required for at least this amount of time for some re-emergance, particularily if it has been allowed to grow unchallenged for some time. The roots will have been widespread and it will have cast some seed which may germinate as new plants.

In much the same way (here’s that analogy I promised you) our democracy is infected with a weed which has come to be known as the quangocracy.  Like Ground Elder, this stuff doesn’t immediately look like a weed either.  It snakes its way into every corner of government, its roots taking underground paths so that you can’t see quite how intrusive it is.  You might not even know its there until it pops up and takes over an area of government that had previously appeared to be weed free.  It can undermine the legitimate parts of government in subtle and effective ways (as Michael Gove is currently discovering to his chagrin.)

Like Ground Elder, the quangocracy is very difficult to eliminate as it is growing among productive sections of the government, winding its way through them so that a liberal dose of weed-killer will be counter-productive, damaging important areas too.  The quangocracy knows this – indeed, it counts on it. 

Like Ground Elder, the only way to be sure an individual quango is gone is to quite literally eradicate every trace of it.  But instead the “bonfire of the quangos” seems to be quietly turning into the renaming of the quangos, or the relocating of the quangos, or just surrendering to the quangos.  This is done for honest and decent reasons I’m sure, but there’s the rub – if you leave these unelected, undemocratic edifices a foothold they will just grow right back where they were before.  Bigger.  And again – the quangocracy knows this – it counts on it.

And just like the Ground Elder, if you are trying to close down a quango it is premature to declare victory in the battle without allowing a few years to pass. Vigilance is required for at least this amount or back it will come – perhaps with a new name, perhaps with a new face at the helm or a new perfectly-plausible reason for why it is a “vital, necessary and important resource.”  It will try to scare you with that importance by threatening the loss of services you rely upon.  It is easy to scare people who feel vulnerable.  The quangocracy knows this – indeed, it counts on it.

One power that the quangocracy has that is greater even than the dreaded Ground Elder is the ability to assimilate people into it.  By the clever use of love-bombing opponents by ‘bringing them on board’, by granting “special responsibilities” complete with sweeteners, by offering a convenient untouchable scapegoat for the mistakes of others, by threatening dire consequences for non-compliance with the quangocracy, or sometimes just by relentless sweet persuasion it becomes a terrible weed indeed.  Imagine if the Ground Elder in my garden didn’t just strangle and overrun the other plants but could actually turn them into Ground Elder too?  No more radiant roses, no more beautiful yellow swathes of Narcissus, no more luscious lillies.  Just acres and acres of conformist, colourless, bland green leaves.  That’s not the sort of garden anyone would want.

There is a simple rule-of-thumb which fits in well with the current localist agenda.  If a Quango is necssary and does important work then it should still be necessary and able to do important work with an elected person at its helm or as a privatised body.  Because somebody needs to be directly responsible for the spending of taxpayer-funds and that somebody must be removeable by the taxpayer.  Or the body itself must be controlled by the power of the markets.  Any Big State enthusiast (or indeed any small-state Conservative who has ‘gone native’ and bought into the whole quangocracy agenda) should still be able to see the merits of that.  If they are indeed necessary – then lets make sure they are also properly accountable. But if (and this surely goes for many of them) they are not necessary?  Let’s stack the firewood and get on with the much-promised bonfire. 

There is such a lot of ground elder in my garden that it would be easy to just throw my hands up and say: “To hell with it.”  I could just give up on my aspiration for a nice garden which I would enjoy sitting in and in which my son and I could shoot a few hoops or lounge in comfy garden chairs to Bat Out Of Hell, or Justin Bieber (depending on whether my son or I were choosing the music).  It would be much easier to do so.  Of course, every day I say that and do nothing, the weed grows larger and heavier and harder to shift.  The Quangocracy is just as deeply embedded.  A monumental task requires a herculean effort to tackle.

But how?  That’s the question.  How to get rid of these multi-layered bureaucratic monoliths in such a way as to make sure they don’t return?  I can only speculate based on how I plan to deal with the Ground Elder in my backgarden.  There’s no master plan, or clever scheme.  I’m not bringing in any specialists or advisors.  I will not be setting up a committee.  I have no intention of spending huge sums on a skewed consultation.  I’m just going to cut it down.  Even if that means damaging some of my other plants.  Even if my garden looks horrible for a while.  I’m going to dig up the roots.  I’m going to make liberal use of weedkiller.  And i’m going to keep doing that month after month and year after year until it is gone and is not coming back.  It’s that – or give the weeds free run of the garden forever.

Bright Yellow Fireworks

Bright Yellow Fireworks

If you put a group of people together for any reason then politics comes into play. I don’t mean macro-politics of the Conservative versus Socialist kind, but small-scale inter-politics.  Sociology, if you will. 

If, like me, you are a people-watcher – then this stuff is absolutely fascinating.  But for me it is most fascinating when applied to local political groups - because all the people therein are deeply involved in politics at several levels.  It makes for a really interesting melting pot of camaraderie, disagreement, competition, ambition and ideology.  And this is true of every party including (of course) my own.

But lately my interest has been piqued not by the goings-on within the Conservative party but of those exotic folk who make up the Liberal Democrats in Fenland.  Now far be it from me to grab a ladle and stir the pot* but…

Until recently there hasn’t been much of a Lib Dem “showing” in Fenland.  They had no council seats, they didn’t poll particularly well in local elections or national elections and – to be brutally honest – they just weren’t a political force here. 

Then this year, David Patrick was victorious in Kirkgate (sigh) and put the Lib Dems on Fenland’s political map – something that my friend Chris Howes has been trying to do for years!  David Patrick has become the only elected Lib Dem in Fenland for a very long time. 

In a recent newspaper Cllr Dave Patrick suggested that he planned to make sure that there were Liberal Democrat candidates standing for all the seats next time.  It’s not the statement which struck me as interesting but the way that Dave Patrick – as the only elected Lib Dem in the area – is taking a forward position within their group.

Meanwhile Chris Howes, long-time opponent of District Council leader Alan Melton, is ever-present.  Twittering under one pseudonym, blog-posting under another.  Writing weekly letters to local papers and generally agitating in a subtle way.  A veteran of Fenland politics, Chris is a worthy (and often sneaky) opponent.

Then there’s Lorna Spenceley, a Harlow councillor, who challenged Steve Barclay MP for the NE Cambs national seat.  While Lorna was not as effective against that Steve as Dave Patrick was against this one – she nonetheless pushed Labour into third place in the area.  Lorna is still listed as a “Liberal Democrat Councillor” for the Staple Tye Ward in of Harlow District Council but will apparently “not be seeking re-election in 2010.”  Furthermore – her blog seems to be regularly focused on the Fenland area with the latest entry being called: “Any volunteers for Wisbech?”  Hmmm.  Curiouser and curiouser.  I’m sure Lorna’s motives are pure – and yet doesn’t this have an early “campaign” feel about it?

This is where all that local politics interpersonal stuff gets really interesting.  Because until now the Liberal Democrats have been one (small) happy family with few ‘big players’ and not much chance of getting anywhere.  They clearly perceive this might change and it is altering their rhetoric.  As a people-watcher, I have to wonder who the top dog in their party IS.  Chris, the longest-campaigner?  Dave, the only successful candidate?  Lorna – the recent parliamentary candidate?  Or is there some other sinister shadowy figure in the background we don’t know about?  The Lib Dem equivalent of an Underworld Boss – who eliminates enemies by giving them a pair of concrete sandals and dropping them in the River Nene**.

If you ask them, they would assure you that they are all on “the same side”.  That they were “working together” in a companionable way.  And that may be true to some degree.  But at some level each of them is thinking to the future – which they hope will be more locally successful than the past – and beginning to wonder: “What if?”  As Lib Dems go, these are local Big Beasts and I would expect all three are politically ambitious.  While they would tell you and I that their only interest is in beating the Conservatives, I suspect they will be beginning to cast little sideways glances at one another too.  We may not see them today, or next week, or even this year.  But in due course I’m sure we will see some fireworks.  Bright yellow ones. 
  

*Tee-hee.  Mischief.

** Of course I am joking.  Lib Dems wouldn’t eliminate their opponents.  They might send them the obligatory strongly-worded letter or even shake their finger in a serious fashion, but ‘gangsta’ they aren’t.  Stop looking at me that way Chris – my feet are too big for concrete sandals!

Meet The New Boss…

Meet The New Boss…

The Labour Party leadership contest, which seems to have been going on since the dawn of time and still has at least five thousand years to run before it reaches its conclusion – has (for me) been relentlessly dull so far.  I suppose the best thing you can say about it is that they haven’t done what many of us presumed they would and torn their party to shreds in a Freddy Krueger-style political splatterfest.

Perhaps their fairly non-confrontational contest comes from their electoral annihilation being not quite as disastrous as most commentators (me included) thought it would be.  It would appear that they believe Labour still has something to say.  I disagree – New Labour’s ‘ideas’, such as they are, have been thoroughly discredited.  Their economic arguments have failed.  Their intellectual position has about as much relevance as that of the Flat Earth Society (and that is, perhaps, being unfair to the Flat Earth Society).  Yet for the most part the leaders are still clinging to the “New” part of New Labour because Old Labour – real socialism – is even more unlikely to reap electoral rewards. 

What these potential leaders need to get to grips with is the cunning and malevolent dark genius of Gordon Brown.  Our ex-Prime Minister and ex-chancellor did not convince anybody with his clever policies or win anybody over with his imaginative governance.  He purchased votes through dependency.  That is why Labour’s share of the vote – though it did collapse in a dramatic fashion  - still kept a sizeable core.  Those votes were bought and paid for fair and square.  Our children and grandchilden have the I.O.U. for Gordon’s cynical handouts and grotesque public sector inflation.

So, Labour-voters, you are left with a wonderful selection of candidates who all share a few key traits; their remarkably similiar educations, their remarkably similar policy positions and their remarkably similar cynical refusal to admit where their party went wrong.  (Which was just about everywhere, so I can see the dilemma.)

David Miliband
Nickname: “Brains” (apparently)
Famous For: His Love Of Bananas
Main Asset: He isn’t Gordon Brown
Main Detriment:  He IS David Miliband

“Look!  It’s a banana!  Hee hee! Banana!  Hee!”

Ed Miliband
Nickname:  They just call him “Ed”
Famous For: Being quite popular with the Trade Unions
Main Asset: He wrote the Labour Party 2010 manifesto
Main Detriment: He wrote the Labour Party 2010 manifesto

“I can move objects with only my mind.”

Ed Balls
Nickname: To his face – they just call him “Ed” too.
Famous For: Being a close ally of Gordon Brown
Main Asset: He can’t get much more unpopular than he is now
Main Detriment: He holds a very marginal constituency

“Honk honk.”

Andy Burnham
Nickname: Nobody really cares.
Famous For: Basically, nothing.
Main Asset: He looks like one of the Thunderbirds*
Main Detriment: He is blander than porridge.

Diane Abbott
Nickname: Her name is her brand.
Famous For: Being on TV a lot.
Main Asset: She doesn’t look or sound like the other candidates.
Main Detriment: George Bush has more chance of winning the Labour leadership contest than she has.

Conclusion

So, I suppose the Labour voters probably aren’t waiting with baited breath on who this blog “comes out” for?  I thought not.  But nevertheless, Getting The Message Out intends to do so.  I’ve given it a lot of thought and tried to be as non-partisan as I can in concluding who is the best person to lead Labour in your ongoing attempts to regain some trust and credibility. 

My vote?  Ed Balls.  Definitely Ed Balls.  Trust me.  I wouldn’t lie to you.

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“Meet the new boss – same as the old boss”
- “Won’t Get Fooled Again”, The Who

*Yes, I do know my Thunderbirds from my Captain Scarlets. Don’t get cocky.