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Say The Right Things

I’ve been busy with things and stuff recently, but that isn’t the reason I’ve barely commented on this general election gubbins. Considering this is the first election for ages where the result is up for grabs it’s been a remarkably tedious campaign. It isn’t the only reason, but I think the TV debates have been a large part of the problem. They’ve sucked the life out of the day-to-day campaigning, and from the first debate everything has seemed to hinge on what happens in each of the three weekly televised style trials with all else put on the back burner; and what has happened in the debates themselves amounts to “not a lot”. It could well be that my interest in politics has simply waned; but gone, it seems, are the daily twists and turns in a campaign that in the past would cause me to follow the news with a trainspotterish devotion during election times.

The first debate on ITV began in what was for me an ominous and eye-roll inducing manner, with a question about immigration. After each of the three party leaders had spoken it elicited my first comment on the election, via Twitter.

As an open borders man they’ve all lost my vote. Bunch o’twats. When’s ‘Outnumbered’ on? #leadersdebate

At the time I didn’t really mean that I wouldn’t vote, but as the leaders reprised their roles in the Sky and BBC debates, during which each of them tried to outdo the others and to show how they would be the most effective at tackling immigration – taking it as read that it is a problem, is too high and needs to be reduced, without advancing any reason for why it is a problem and too high – I was taking the “fuck the lot of them” option more seriously. As it is I will probably still vote non-Tory on May the 6th – in my case that’s Liberal Democrat – but that’s nothing to shout about.

The fact that each leaders’ debate – and #bigotgate, the sole example, albeit tedious, of anything outside the TV debates being considered devastatingly newsworthy by our media – was concerned with the matter of immigration gives the lie to the “you can’t say anything about the immigrants” trope. For one thing, the statement that “you can’t say anything about the immigrants” tends to be used when talking about immigration, rendering it as prima facie bollocks; for another, if it is true that you can’t talk about immigration, at the very least our tabloid press never received the memo. The fact is that you can talk about immigration, as much as you like; it’s just that having done so you’re not then protected against being called a bigot in return, if you’re talking to someone who thinks you’re displaying bigotry. And it’s not even “closing down debate” to be called a bigot; it is debate. You’re free to respond to and deny the charge of bigotry if you like. That’s how this free speech thing works. If anyone has genuine cause to feel restricted in saying what they feel then it is apparently those politicians who in private don’t have a problem with immigration and see some anti-immigration rhetoric as bigotry, as it surely is, but who in public have to pander to people’s “legitimate concerns” – which range from the legitimate to the xenophobic – rather than to actually defend immigration and the huge benefits that it brings as evidenced in countless reports, or to even defend immigration on liberal grounds as a right in itself.

The one thing the TV debates have done, however, is to have thrown the election wide open, as Nick Clegg hijacked the “change” vote by virtue of standing next to David Cameron for 90 minutes and robbing the latter of his USP. The Liberal Democrats soared in the polls, but for the most depressing of reasons I fear. I doubt very much that many people saw the first debate and were swayed by the Lib Dems’ rag-bag of policies; they saw a reasonable, normal looking person who was well presented and who exhibited a devastating ability to write down the questioners’ names and to then refer back to them in his closing speech, and who was neither a scary alien robot creature from planet Tory, nor Gordon Brown. It’s a crap reason to decide who you’ll vote for and to alter the course of the election so decisively, and for that reason I’d be happy to see the back of the leaders’ debates from now on, but we’re obviously stuck with them. I hope, though, that they have at least served one purpose. They have made a hung parliament all the more likely, a hung parliament that may well require the ruling party to rely on the Liberal Democrats, and which could in turn ensure we finally abandon the anachronistic First Past The Post electoral system in favour of some form of proportional representation. Nothing illustrates FPTP’s failings more than those projections that show that, based on current polls, the Conservatives could end up winning the most votes with Labour pushed down into third place, and yet the electoral system would award Labour the most number of seats in parliament. If that does happen, I wonder how the Conservatives, with their staunch support for FPTP, could possibly object if Labour, as the largest party in the House of Commons, are then given the first chance to form the new government?

Shh. Come with me on this. After the election Labour are the largest party, and the Lib Dems agree to work with them on the condition that Gordon Brown steps down, and either voluntarily or by palace coup, he does. The new Labour leader becomes prime minister on the understanding that there will be a referendum on proportional representation and a fresh general election held under the new rules immediately following that result. First Past The Post is ditched for the Single Transferable Vote, and following a new election everyone lives happily ever after. Future elections even feature an open and mature debate on immigration.

What do you reckon? I know, I know; you were with me up to and including the “everyone lives happily ever after” bit, but after that I went a bit daft.

On A Plate: Italy

Talking of which (not that I was) here is the latest tip from my irregular cookery series. And that tip is…use passata.

Once upon a time I decided to make a pasta Bolognese for tea – I’m a big fan of using cavatappi myself, having bored with spaghetti a while ago – but all of a sudden I realised we were without a ready-made pasta sauce in the cupboard. We’d often rely on a jar of something like Loyd Grossman’s Primavera or a Sacla Cherry Tomato and Basil sauce for ease of thing; many are nice although none are perfect, the main problem being that the kids baulk at the sight of any “lumps”, such as a miniscule sliver of onion or a tiny cube of tomato, and so we’d have to meticulously pick those bits out prior to serving. Such concerns are irrelevant, though, if you don’t have a jar in; so what to do? Fortunately, way at the back of the cupboard, sat a carton of passata that I’ll have bought in with the intention of making something a bit more adventurous sometime (I’ve got a great recipe for puttanesca somewhere). That’ll have to do, I thought, because I’d my heart set on Bolognese and red wine by now and I couldn’t be bothered popping out to the shops.

Passata on it’s own I knew would be pretty dull – it’s just sieved tomatoes at the end of the day – so first I fried a bit of garlic, dried basil and dried oregano in a little bit of olive oil; then I added the passata and stirred well. I warmed it through a bit, then gave it a little taste. It was still a tad bland, so I added a bit of salt. Tasting it again the flavour had certainly pepped up but now I thought it a little bitter, so I chucked is a sprinkling of sugar. That did the trick, and soon I was left with a simple pasta sauce as nice as any I’d tasted before.

The first and most obvious advantage I noticed in making your own sauce is that there are no bits in to annoy the kids – or to annoy me when having to pick them out – so long as you don’t stupidly add them in the first place. But I also realised that this must be pretty much all that pasta sauce manufacturers are doing; taking passata and adding stuff to it. The beauty of adding that stuff yourself, of course, is that now, rather than shopping around and trying to find a pasta sauce that is just to your liking, it is just as easy to buy passata and then customise your sauce however you like depending on your situation or mood; so, just garlic, oregano and basil if we’re eating with the kids, but, say, onions, capers and chillies too if it’s just me and the wife. And it is, of course, far cheaper to do yourself what you’d otherwise be paying Sig. Dolmio to do for you. So, now you know what to do, take this rotten old tree and make it bear fruit.

But a warning; this knowledge is dangerous. There is a lucrative pasta sauce industry out there, charging up to £2 for little more than 35p passata with bits. That’s quite a mark-up, their profit margins must be enormous, but can this last? I doubt it. It can’t be long before word spreads and it becomes common knowledge that what had looked at first glance to be the manufacturers “adding value” now seems to be little more than “adding oregano”. I fear we have an enormous, inflated and overheated “pomodoro bubble” here which is about to pop, splashing tomato sauce all over the tiling and hob. So I’m entrusting you to use this new information wisely and cautiously. Sell your shares in Ragu for sure, but allow this information to simmer out gradually, so there is just a gradual decline in the sales of those inefficient and overpriced pasta sauces rather than a sudden crash, giving the manufacturers enough time to find another way to rip us off. The last thing I want to see is a penniless and dejected Loyd Grossman, his pasta sauce business in tatters, begging to be let back on MasterChef; but as a contestant, imploring one and all that the only thing he’s ever wanted to do is to work in a kitchen.

Street Life

It could be said that criticising the media is like shooting fish in a barrel. True, and therefore it is the ideal sport to engage in when you want to dash off a quick blog post. So here it is.

Google Street View is a “service to burglars”

announces the Daily Telegraph. It concerns the fact that 95% of Britain’s roads are now covered by the Google Street View service, knowledge that immediately made me check whether our house is now featured; and I’m delighted to say that it is. But how can Street View be a burglar’s aid, I wondered? Burglary surely is an activity requiring the burglar to be in close proximity to your house at the time, typically after “casing” it from a number of different angles while standing immediately adjacent to your property. How can a 2D picture taken of your house an indeterminate time ago be of any assistance? Time to read further into the report.

Google Street View, which has now been expanded to cover more than 95 per cent of Britain’s roads, is being seen as a “service for burglars”, according to new research.

Hmm. I see what you did there. The words “service to burglars” in the headline were placed between speechmarks, so you think you can get away with it, but I’m not sure you can. I don’t think that the fact that research suggests that Street View “is being seen” as a service to burglars can justify a headline saying the Street View “is a” service to burglars, do you? And what of the evidence gleaned from this “research”?

The report, which was carried out by a discount website, myvouchercodes.co.uk, found that two-thirds of the people polled thought that Google Street View images were ‘intrusive’.

The company interviewed 1,317 people – 57 per cent of which described the street mapping service an ‘intrusion’ while 24 per cent said that they believed it was simply ‘a service for burglars’.

Right. So this isn’t so much “research” as “market research”; or rather, it’s a survey. Now, let’s put aside the fact that unless they asked two separate questions on whether the interviewees found Street View both “intrusive” and an “intrusion” (and I doubt it) then the Telegraph thinks it’s reasonable to equate “57 per cent” with “two-thirds”. Instead let’s focus on the statistic – if that doesn’t debase the term – that informs the headline: the fact that 24% believe Street View is “simply ‘a service for burglars’.” In other words, the only thing that even attempts to justify the statement in the headline is the fact that just under a quarter of the people surveyed agree with a statement as put to them by the survey team. Presumably, then, any question that a researcher deems to ask, and which anyone feels they can agree with, can be portrayed in a Telegraph headline as a fact that researchers have unearthed. Amazing.

But perhaps I’m being unkind? Perhaps there is something, somewhere in this sad article that can support the assertion that Google Street View is a service for burglars? What do the police have to say on the matter?

Thames Valley Police told The Telegraph there was no evidence to suggest that the service caused an increase in burglaries.

Well what would they know? I’d rather go with the opinions of a quarter of the people who were asked to agree or disagree with a statement when they were stopped in a shopping precinct as they were racing to the butty shop in their lunch hour and no they couldn’t really stop but will it be quick oh alright then. Any day.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you our best-selling quality daily.



Update: The Telegraph has now updated its headline to a more anodyne “Google Street View: survey raises privacy concerns”, which is more accurate, especially seeing as the survey literally did raise those concerns by asking the questions in the first place. The rest of the article remains intact, to the best of my knowledge.

Woolly Bully

A few years ago I read Andrew Rawnsley’s book Servants Of The People, and very fine it was too; it is a well written and entertaining telling of the early New Labour years full of interesting anecdotes and incisive analysis. But, I wondered as I read it; what to make of all those florid descriptions of private conversations between two parties where the author wasn’t present? How reliable a record were they of what had actually occurred? This was easily resolved; they simply weren’t to be relied upon, not at all – how could they be? – and to think otherwise would make me either deluded or a fool.

Seeing as Andrew Rawnsley does apparently believe his words to be utterly reliable, I can only conclude then that he is either deluded, a fool, or a deluded fool. Let’s take the example in the news, Rawnsley’s allegation that Gus O’Donnell verbally warned Gordon Brown about his bullying conduct towards his staff. Rawnsley defends his story as being “100%” accurate, his source “24-carat”. Utter, utter arse. Let’s assume that this conversation did take place; the only way he can credibly insist that the story is 100% accurate is if he was there, and he wasn’t; even if he were, we’ve all been in situations where our account of events and our reading of a situation differs markedly from others who were also there and whose opinions are just as legitimate as our own.

So, in the absence of actually being there, the only other way Andrew Rawnsley can seriously claim that he has covered events with anything like a 100% accuracy is if he has spoken to both parties involved, and I think we can be pretty sure that, in the case of O’Donnell and Brown, he hasn’t. In order to justify his 24-carat claim, then, Rawnsley has all but admitted that he has spoken to Gus O’Donnell and has his first-hand version of events; but if we are to believe that there are two sides to every story – and I think we should – then that must leave us with Rawnsley’s account being 50% accurate at best. Add in all other factors – O’Donnell, being human, will have all manner of reasons for overplaying or underplaying his part, even for outright lying when briefing a journalist – and I’d rate the veracity of Rawnsley’s story at about 27%; the quality of his source may be 24-carat, but the quality of his sources story is more like die-cast metal. Which is not to say that the story isn’t true, mainly or wholly, just as die-cast metal is perfectly good when it comes to the manufacture of Space 1999 Eagle Transporter or Star Trek USS Enterprise toys. But just as you wouldn’t want to be handed a die-cast metal spaceship at the altar on your wedding day, a die-cast metal story hardly seals the deal. Apart from anything else, one day you’ll drop that Eagle Transporter on you aunt’s kitchen floor and snap the engine off in a jagged white break; and the bay doors of the Enterprise will get loose over time and then you’ll lose that orange plastic space shuttle that clips on underneath, and you’ll never find it, no matter how often you check the back of the sofa, and it won’t ever turn up, not even when you move house, although you’re twelve-years-old by then and no longer bothered, because it must have gone up the Hoover, let’s face it.

I digress. The point is that Andrew Rawnsley has been told something, written it in a book and claims it to be true; but he can’t know that, so it’s just a story he has been told and cannot possibly verify. He was on Newsnight yesterday along with Daniel Finkelstein who similarly stated that he knows these claims are true because loads of such stories have been going around Westminster for years. Well that’s a slam-dunk! Received wisdom is now historical record! Frankly it calls to minds the dubious police practice of “trawling” for allegations rather than actual evidence, yet Finkelstein even referred to these allegations – my choice of word, since that is all they possibly can be at this stage – as being examples of the sort of “facts” that journalists should report (although, since he doesn’t seem to know the meaning of the word “pedantic” that could merely be down to his poor knowledge of English vocab). Honest to fucking God it makes you want to cry. Whatever happened to a bit of journalistic scepticism? Is it left behind in the cloakroom when they enter the lobby? Are they too dim to countenance that at least some of these stories could be the ulterior imaginings of Brown’s opponents, or is it that they are too busy congratulating themselves on being “in the loop”? Are they naïve or arrogant? Judging by Rawnsley and Finkelstein’s performance on Newsnight I’d say the latter, actually.

Look; I’m not saying that these stories aren’t true, I simply don’t know and yes, I can well believe them. But the likes of Andrew Rawnsley and Danny Finkelstein don’t know either, unless they were actually present at any of these alleged incidents; the difference is that while I entertain doubts and keep an open mind, they seem to have abandoned their critical faculties so as to confidently claim an insider’s total knowledge based on the self-serving rumours that swirls around parliament’s bars and tea rooms. Well they’re welcome to their credulity, but the rest of us should bear in mind that these are stories, authored by politicians and the like, and adapted by journalists with books to sell and column inches to fill. That’s hardly a recipe for accuracy, reliability and truthfulness in my book.

Run Letter

By now you’ll know that twenty esteemed economists wrote a letter to the Sunday Times yesterday, calling on the government to start the tricky business of cutting the budget deficit earlier than some have advocated. You may be wondering why they didn’t instead write to the Chancellor-of-the-exchequer, since News International’s power over the government’s budget is minimal? Well, today The Obscurer can exclusively reveal that the eminent score indeed did contact HM Treasury direct, emailing the contents of their letter on Saturday evening. Furthermore, and inexplicably, The Obscurer was copied into the Treasury’s reply! So here, exclusively, is the government’s considered response to that Sunday Times bombshell.

to: #Group:Emminent_Economists
cc: The Obscurer

re: UK economy cries out for credible rescue plan

Dear All,

Thank you for your latest letter concerning how to deal with the UK budget deficit. As many of you will know this is indeed a priority for the Treasury at the moment, and we are taking a large number of soundings and looking at all the options available to us regarding exactly how and when we should deal with the current situation, and we do indeed value your input. Thank you for spending the time on coming up with your own considered solutions.

Sadly, you appear to have omitted the attachment in which you detail how exactly you would go about cutting the structural deficit in the timeline you propose, and all we have received is the covering preamble which, while of interest, merely makes some bland and somewhat meaningless pronouncements. Still, they do whet the appetite for the meaty specifics to follow and we eagerly anticipate seeing your full proposals, so please forward them with some haste.

In particular, we note that you say that

“In the absence of a credible plan, there is a risk that a loss of confidence in the UK’s economic policy framework will contribute to higher long-term interest rates and/or currency instability, which could undermine the recovery.” We agree, but admit that we are having some difficulty in drawing together our various strands of thought into one credible plan. As such we are excited to learn that you must have completed your own plan on how to deal with this matter. We look forward to receiving it so we can see how it moves us forward.

“The exact timing of measures should be sensitive to developments in the economy … and there is a compelling case, all else being equal, for the first measures beginning to take effect in the 2010-11 fiscal year.” We are, however, (and also ceterus parabus!), struggling to pin down that exact time, as we are uncertain when the economy will have recovered sufficiently. You appear to have less uncertainly than ourselves and so we would welcome you own precise proposals regarding timing (something that, being a small detail, we are surprised you omitted from the email we received, but which we look forward to seeing once we have your complete correspondence in front of us).

“The bulk of this fiscal consolidation should be borne by reductions in government spending, but that process should be mindful of its impact on society’s more vulnerable groups.”

Aye, there’s the rub. The problem here is that while it is a commonly held view that the public sector is stuffed full of non-workers fulfilling non-jobs, according to a recent report by Reform – a think-tank you would expect to be sympathetic to that view of the public sector – any cuts to the government’s workforce would soon “hit bone” and affect frontline services. Cuts will have to be made and we are working on them right now, but we have found that it is far easier to propose cuts in government spending than it is to define where these cuts will be made; therefore it is gratifying that you have done the heavy lifting here and we look forward to your own specific plans on which departments to close and who should be made redundant.

Everyone here at HM Treasury is tremendously excited that you must have already managed to produce just the credible plan that you require of us, and which is currently eluding us; we are only disappointed by the regrettable delay that has been caused in your oversight in not including this plan in your email. However, we are sure that this can be speedily remedied, and together we can crack on with the vital work of restoring the nation’s finances to balance.

Yours faithfully etc.

That was two days ago, and sadly I have not been copied into the economists’ reply. I can only assume that someone noticed the error, and when forwarding their detailed plan for economic recovery they also ensured that I was removed from the cc. field. Well, I assume that is the case, and I assume that these foremost economists have produced and forwarded on their own detailed plan. Haven’t they? That can’t be it, surely? I can’t imagine that such an illustrious band of experts-in-their-field would make such a wishy-washy list of statements and requests from others without something of their own to back it up, would they? Why, because if they would then that would make their letter to the Sunday Times appear to be just an empty gesture, a substance-free waste of time? It would suggest that writing the letter was a mere vanity-stunt and a exercise in self-importance, with about as much value as some bloke on Grumpy Old Men – Richard Madeley, say – sounding off about something he doesn’t really understand and which he has no solution for?

No. That can’t be it at all.