The Friday Blog: To Snitch, or not to Snitch
It never rains it pours eh? A couple of months ago I told you how I had got all exited, frankly overly so, about the state of the roadworks on the M5 at the Oldbury Viaduct. They had become such a fixture of North Birmingham life, that they even had their own Facebook page. Then, during lockdown, they disappeared, leaving six lanes of pristine tarmac, to, depending on your direction of travel, speed your escape from the Black Country towards the South West, or make the connection onto the M6 and onwards to the North West, ever so slightly less miserable than it has been for the entirety of your life so far. Now though, in what is apparently an environmental move, the route is to have a permanent sixty miles per hour speed limit, so I will just have to make my exits from the West Mids a little more slowly. The fact that the four stretches of motorway subject to the new restrictions are all in the Midlands and the North, started me off on some sort of political conspiracy theory, based on HS2 and former red wall constituencies. Then I thought of the M25, or Runnymede as I always think of it. The place where men dress up in tin suits and kill each other. (Not my joke originally, but I have enjoyed it for decades now anyway.) 60 MPH between Heathrow and Watford, at any time night or day, is the stuff of fantasy. And, from 1st January, the M20 and any other road within 50 miles of Dover, Felixstowe or Harwich will be at a standstill anyway, so it is needs must up North I suppose.
It has been pouring for the Government this week. That stuff I told you about last time, the stuff that poor old Brandon Lewis made a proper Horlicks of, the stuff about making one law that breaks another law and reneging on a promise made in an international treaty no less. That stuff is not going away. Very much in the firing line last weekend was Suella Braverman, who spent her Saturday at the Annual General Meeting of the Bar Council. I think it is fair to say that they went after her a bit. She was interrogated on every aspect of the Government’s behaviour and actions over the previous week. She did alright, ducking and weaving, refusing to get drawn into the detail, and coming up with some reasonable (ish) excuses. But, by the end of it, you had to conclude that she received a fearful kicking. Not that I would have wanted to trade places with her. However clever and fleet of thought the Attorney General may be, and she is Queen’s Counsel, if you could choose to start an argument somewhere, a room full of Barristers, all of whom violently disagree with you, might not be the best place to begin. On Sunday, the somewhat unlikely double act of John Major and Tony Blair implored MPs to reject the legislation. The next three off the rank quickly followed, giving Boris a full house of every single, living Prime Minister telling him he had got this one wrong. Just think about that for a moment. Various Tory grandees waded in, and by Sunday night my old pal Robert Buckland, the Justice Secretary, was being wheeled out to try, somewhat unconvincingly I am afraid, because I like him a lot, to justify / play down what was happening.
Given all the hullabaloo, it might be worth reminding ourselves what all this is about. It is all about the Withdrawal Agreement, the thing that allowed us to leave the EU on 31st January. You might recall that getting the deal signed, sealed and delivered was subject to delays. Multiple ones. Indeed, just before the last delay, the PM told some policemen that he would rather be found dead in a ditch than be subject to another delay. There was a delay anyway. This is the deal that Boris had created in his own image, expertly crafted by a crack team of negotiators, ok it looked a lot like the deal Theresa May had already agreed, the one that Boris’ mates kept voting against and the one Boris resigned over, but it is definitely Boris’ deal. It is the one that Boris presented to the British people as the deal that was going to get Brexit done. But, apparently, it was not a very good deal after all, and left dear old blighty vulnerable to nefarious activity by those pesky Europeans, such as blockading food supplies to Northern Ireland. I am not convinced how that would have happened, as under the terms of the Northern Ireland Protocol and as laid out in the Government’s Command Paper, the GB / NI border is administered by the UK on behalf of the EU. It even goes as far as the UK collecting tariffs for goods that are at risk of moving from NI to the rest of Europe, with the EU / UK joint committee deciding on which goods were at risk, and I am not sure that the weekly Ulster shop is that risky. But it is why Northern Ireland was suddenly included in the Internal Market Bill. Time prevents me from trying to explain more about the IM Bill here, but if you feel so inclined, I would suggest you visit the website of our admirable friends at the Institute for Government where you will find a IM Bill podcast. It is not easy to follow, at least not for me, but having invested an hour, I was at least a little better informed than I was beforehand. The digested listen is that it is all about the politics.
It all explains why everyone is getting so worked up. Using the excuse that we did not understand what we were signing and so are going to ignore it, probably does not make us sound like a nation capable of playing a major part on the world stage. If it is a deliberate negotiating ploy to hurry up the EU into making concessions, it seems to have had the opposite effect. Given it was a political own goal so big it could be seen from space, you would have thought that Keir Starmer would be making hay, but the Labour Party is terrified about getting itself in a position where it has to say anything whatsoever about Brexit. The Party also remains persistently behind in the polls. Quite an achievement, all things considered. And anyway, Starmer has his own concerns having been forced to self-isolate, as will just about everyone with school age children in their households before we reach half-term I reckon. Or maybe we will not. I have no idea what I am supposed to do when Year 7 gets sent home. (See below).
Subsequently, the IM Bill cleared its first, theoretical, hurdle, passing the vote on second reading in the Commons. Not that the result was ever in doubt. You understand the numbers as well as I do in our first past the post parliamentary system. A big majority and a lot of new MPs mean the Government can do pretty much what it wants. There was some sort of concession on Wednesday, when HMG promised that, rather than use devolved powers, it would allow MPs a vote should we get to the point where international law is about to be broken. Not that it is much of a concession in reality. (See above). It could always, of course, end up being a storm in the proverbial, and the joint committee could always find a way through it. Maybe it is a communication thing. Communication does not appear to be this Government’s strong suit, which is odd because Boris is supposed to be a journalist, (apologies to any actual journalists out there, and I know one or two who read.) The Cabinet Office controls all outgoing and is full of special advisors and spin doctors, all under the iron fist of Dominic Cummings, but, nevertheless, messaging is all over the place. It is not just Brexit is it? Tell me now, honestly, do you know precisely what COVID restrictions you are currently subject to? I am checking the ABHI website every five minutes for the latest, and I am now subject to additional ones. Because my main residence is in Sandwell, I cannot come and have a cup of tea at yours, wherever you live. Not even a couple of cold ones in the garden.
There is one consolation in nobody having a clue about exactly what restrictions they are liable to. It avoids having to confront the latest COVID protocol dilemma. Do you, or do you not snitch on those in breach? The Government certainly will not help you. Do it says the Home Sec, although she is the type that would. Don’t do it says the PM, doubtless still bound by his sworn Bullingdon commitment to honour amongst hooligans. Boris suggests that, rather than going to the authorities, you should approach your neighbours and reason with them. That is all very well if you live in SW something and not next to a Russian oligarch, but it is a little less practicable up here in North Birmingham. I am not sure I fancy going to confront those in the rowdy house share on the corner after they have just taken possession of 12 slabs of Stella and all their mates are piling in to watch the Villa game. I may have gone a bit soft, but I am going to do what you would do and keep my head down.
I am not sure I can make light of communication around testing, especially as I know the situation is causing problems for many of you and, as someone said, it feels like we are back in July. It is a situation we are conscious of and are revisiting with officials. Previously we were successful in having HealthTech staff, whether in manufacturing facilities or field based clinical support, designated as essential workers and we will be reminding policy makers of the critical role you all play in supporting the NHS.
Elsewhere, we were pleased to take part in the newly convened Life Sciences Trade Advisory Group and progress is being made steadily on new and continuity trade agreements beyond the EU. The Foreign Secretary is currently in Washington DC as talks continue against the backdrop of the upcoming general election, and I have done my bit by accepting an invitation to take part in a UK / US trade session at the Conservative Party Conference.
I hope you have enjoyed the unseasonal weather this past week, with cricket commentary and sunshine in the garden it has felt like the start, rather than the end, of summer. It will come to an end, as, I fear, will some of the freedoms we have been enjoying. I hope I am wrong, but we will be celebrating my wife’s birthday hard this weekend whilst we can still go out. Do the same if you can. Safely.
