During the boom years, it seemed most people had little interest in the Autumn Statement, and who could blame them?

The statement was generally used just to confirm how rosy things apparently were.

For many years,  as I discovered myself when I was Shadow Chancellor, neither the media nor anyone else paid any attention to [...]]]> VIEW FROM WESTMINSTER

During the boom years, it seemed most people had little interest in the Autumn Statement, and who could blame them?

The statement was generally used just to confirm how rosy things apparently were.

For many years,  as I discovered myself when I was Shadow Chancellor, neither the media nor anyone else paid any attention to the fact that luxuriant expenditures were flimsily supported by a debt bubble.

However, as we all know, the bubble eventually burst and the boom was succeeded by a monumental bust.  People, for obvious reasons, now pay much more attention to the actual figures in the Autumn Statement (which are now also independently produced by the Office for Budget Responsibility so that – pleasant or otherwise – they are at least meaningful).

This autumn, the Office for Budget Responsibility revised down the UK’s growth figures and noted that the busts faced by euro-zone countries and increases in international commodity figures are denting our growth prospects.

Given this background the Chancellor’s argument was simple: low interest rates are crucial if there is to be any hope of renewed growth any time soon; our interest rates will remain low only if we continue to be able to finance our national debt at low interest; and this means persuading the international financial markets that we will do whatever it takes to get on top of our deficit.

But, despite this tough message – and the tough measures the Chancellor took to make a reality of his determination to reduce the deficit – he was keen to avoid any immediate further reduction in the amount of money going into the economy.  So he used money made available from long term reductions in recurrent spending to finance capital investments this year and next.

Hence the investment in key infrastructure such as roads, along with measures to boost new housing so that the there are more construction jobs and more houses available for young people.
Other announcements were aimed towards helping businesses which, in turn, will help those looking for work, and there was the ‘youth contract’ aimed specifically at tackling youth unemployment.

All in all, the Autumn Statement contained not only a sobering, independent projection but also a determined attempt to protect Britain from the debt storm, as well as a wide-ranging effort to boost jobs and growth at a time when both are under threat from global events that we cannot control.

No wonder it has sparked more discussion than its predecessors.

Government is partly about having a vision of the future and taking pro-active steps to make a reality of that vision.

But government also inevitably involves reacting to circumstances and events.

The Government has had plenty to react to over the last few months — notably the uprisings in Libya and the ongoing euro-zone crisis. [...]]]> View from Westminster

Government is partly about having a vision of the future and taking pro-active steps to make a reality of that vision.

But government also inevitably involves reacting to circumstances and events.

The Government has had plenty to react to over the last few months — notably the uprisings in Libya and the ongoing euro-zone crisis. However, an issue a little closer to home has been the cause of reaction (and outrage) – UK adoption rates.

The recently published adoption figures show a notable decline in adoption rates over recent years, along with a rise in the time children wait before being matched with a family. Last year, only six of the 3,600 children under the age of one waiting to be adopted found a family.

As in many other areas of national life, it’s not the will of the people that is lacking. There are plenty of inspiring and loving people putting themselves forward to adopt. The problem arrives from the actions of an overbearing state.

The reasons behind the shocking figures have ranged from unnecessary levels of bureaucracy to unjustifiably long court cases. Often enough, a child has not been placed with a family for reasons that don’t stand up to scrutiny and don’t seem to be based on common sense.

We should of course recognise that making the ‘right match’ is important – which leads to some unavoidable level of bureaucracy; and the courts can point to the complexities of adoption as a reason behind long drawn out cases. However, we cannot get away from the fact that the system is not always working as it should. I think we can all categorically agree that there are more than six suitable adoptive parents out there.

That is why the government has reacted — by releasing the Adopter’s Charter and a major new adoption and fostering campaign ‘Give a child a home’. Combined, they encourage local adoption authorities to improve by seeking help from the best.

Adoption offers a child a second chance for the ideal start in life – a loving and caring family. Instead of being overly cautious of those people looking to adopt, we should be welcoming them with open arms.

I hope the revelations of recent weeks, and our reaction, can inspire a step change throughout the whole adoption system. The people who will benefit are those the whole system is built around – the children.

Silly season was turned on its head this year with politicians and press alike having plenty of hard hitting events to contemplate over the summer.

The riots brought MPs scuttling back to Westminster in the middle of August, and the aftermath – together with Libya and the state of the world economy – were [...]]]> VIEW FROM WESTMINSTER

Silly season was turned on its head this year with politicians and press alike having plenty of hard hitting events to contemplate over the summer.

The riots brought MPs scuttling back to Westminster in the middle of August, and the aftermath – together with Libya and the state of the world economy – were at the forefront of many MPs minds as they returned to Parliament after recess.

However, alongside the return to the House of Commons, there was another return to normality – made by our nation’s school children and teachers.

Like teachers, MPs (and in particular ministers) do a lot more during the summer than most people imagine.  But, like school children, they return to the start of term in a spirit of anticipation. 

For one set of children, in particular, there will have been the excitement of taking their first step into one of the 24 brand new free schools now dotted around our nation.

Free schools are a key part of the current education reforms which seek to raise educational standards in places that are less well endowed with good schools than West Dorset. They are state funded and can be set up by a range of different groups, from parents to charities.

Rather than being run by councils or politicians, free schools are run by the very teachers that work in them. They have a considerable amount of freedom, such as how they spend the school’s money and the curriculum, enabling them to create a learning environment which suits the needs of their local community.

The aim is to give parents from all backgrounds a choice over the type of school they send their children to. Being non-selective and with half of the 24 new schools in deprived areas, children from all backgrounds are able to access what free schools offer.

Although there are precedents both in Scandinavia and in America, this is a bold new venture for England.

It has certainly caused a lot of discussion as Westminster starts up again, and I have no doubt it will continue to be discussed vigorously at the forthcoming party conferences.

But, whatever the interest and anticipation in political circles, the start of a new term in a new school of a new kind must be much more exciting for the pupils, parents and teachers involved in the free schools themselves.

As you will have noticed, dear reader, there have been plenty of hard hitting stories over the past few weeks.

Newspaper closures, phone-hacking, bailouts, strikes, by-elections and the continuing rumblings of the Arab Spring have dominated headlines.

I have decided, however, to use my column to write about the visit of the Chinese Premier, an [...]]]> VIEW FROM WESTMINSTER

As you will have noticed, dear reader, there have been plenty of hard hitting stories over the past few weeks.

Newspaper closures, phone-hacking, bailouts, strikes, by-elections and the continuing rumblings of the Arab Spring have dominated headlines.

I have decided, however, to use my column to write about the visit of the Chinese Premier, an event which failed to get as many column inches as it deserved.

China is of course becoming an economic superpower. But the sad fact is that our exports to China have not correlated with its growth rate.

This can be said, also, for the other ‘BRIC’ countries – Brazil, India and Russia. (In 2009 we exported more to Ireland than all the BRIC countries combined.)

I’m glad to say that the situation is now changing. We are diversifying the destination of our exports, and increasing the amount we export to the new powerhouses. Since the Prime Minister’s trip to China last January, British exports have increased by 20%.
The visit of Premier Wen is the most recent example of how we’re placing high importance on exporting our goods and skills.

During the visit, £1.4bn of trade deals were signed off by Premier Wen — and he and the Prime Minister also restated the shared goal of raising bilateral trade to $100bn by 2015. Premier Wen also noted the importance of opening up the Chinese markets, increasing the amount of imports.

This is all very encouraging. Not only is it essential for the UK to increase its share of the Chinese market, it is also necessary that China increases the amount it imports in order to rebalance the global economy.

But trade and economics were not the sole focus of discussion.

The difficult balancing act consists of combining respectful and friendly diplomatic and trading relationships with frank discussion on basic human rights. Recent events, such as the jailing of the Chinese artist, Ai Weiwei, have added to concerns that, in China, freedoms and rights aren’t accelerating at the same rate as the economy. Unlike some of our European counterparts, the Prime Minister decided to balance trade negotiations with raising such concerns.

China is much, much bigger and more important than we are, and we have a lot to gain. But we’ve also got a lot to offer China, and not all of it is business. Of course we mustn’t hector or lecture. But, as one of the world’s two oldest democracies, we really do have to be willing to stick up for liberty. If we don’t, who will?

With luck and effort, we can keep up the trading relationship — but also export more than skills and goods.

This last month has been – among other things – a month for visits.

First, there was that remarkable visit by the Queen to Ireland.

Relations between the UK and Ireland have had a chequered history through the centuries.  The contribution of each to the history and culture of the other is of course immense [...]]]> VIEW FROM WESTMINSTER

This last month has been – among other things – a month for visits.

First, there was that remarkable visit by the Queen to Ireland.

Relations between the UK and Ireland have had a chequered history through the centuries.  The contribution of each to the history and culture of the other is of course immense – but so, too, have been the tensions and, at times, the outright hostilities.

Of course, over recent years, there has been a vast improvement in what was already a closer and more harmonious relationship.  And, today, this is very much an alliance, and a close one at that, rather than a hostile encounter.

Nevertheless, the fact that this was the first visit by a British monarch to Ireland since 1911 made this a special event.

As things turned out – partly because of the extraordinary dignity and grace with which the Queen carried the whole thing off, everyone seemed to be delighted.

Much the same sort of dignity and grace was evident when President Obama visited Westminster to speak to both Houses of Parliament.

A gathering of this sort in Westminster Hall is inevitably laced with strong mixtures of past and present.  This hall, with its magnificent hammer beam roof and its thousand years of history, has been the setting for the trials of kings and the conduct of exchequers; it has witnessed gunpowder plotters beneath it and queens lying in state.

Decked out for the occasion with a splendid military band and the State trumpeters somewhat dizzyingly poised on the ledge under the great window, it lived up to its past in a spectacular fashion.

These occasions are always a relief from the normal, tribal political engagements at Westminster.  Cabinet and Shadow Cabinet sat together – and, as so frequently happens when we are taken out of the stylised debating chambers and TV studios, we found that we had a lot to talk about in the hour that we waited for the President to arrive.

When he did arrive, he said all the right things about a relationship that is in fact still very special – based on a degree of mutual trust in areas of defence and security to a degree that is often understated.

But the overwhelming impression was not conveyed by the propositions of the speech nearly so much as by the manner of the man.  His life-story, his simplicity, his evident charm all set off the immense grandeur of his position – and somehow enabled one to see the human spirit that triumphs over the apparatus of power.

My work in London involves walking once or twice a day between the Cabinet Office and Parliament.

This trip normally consists of a very pleasant, albeit busy, walk down Whitehall and into the Palace of Westminster, soaking up the buzz of what some call the Westminster bubble. 

However, when taking this trip in the week [...]]]> VIEW FROM WESTMINSTER

My work in London involves walking once or twice a day between the Cabinet Office and Parliament.

This trip normally consists of a very pleasant, albeit busy, walk down Whitehall and into the Palace of Westminster, soaking up the buzz of what some call the Westminster bubble. 

However, when taking this trip in the week after Easter, I noticed something was different. Whilst the buildings remained the same, the atmosphere had changed. The buzz of the bubble had mellowed. Parliament was in recess.

With no bills in the House to debate, amend or pass and no committees on which to sit, Parliament takes an official break for several weeks, several times a year and Parliament has a very different feel.

It struck me how strange recess must seem to somebody unfamiliar with the working of our Parliament, and the duties of our MPs.

Tour groups walking in and around the Palace of Westminster could be forgiven for thinking that our Parliament was in fact a museum, a governmental relic of time gone by. The very idea that the eerily quiet corridors and chambers through which they stroll are in fact at the heart of the world’s sixth largest economy must seem extremely bizarre.

These individuals, as well as the wider public, can also be forgiven for asking the question – what do MPs actually do during recess?

Connotations of the term ‘recess’ are things like time off, relaxing and, perhaps, holiday.

Some commentators in the press would have you believe that these connotations are the reality.

I, and many of my colleagues, would categorically disagree.

Whilst I can’t speak for all MPs, I can confidently say that most, if not all, are working just as hard during recess as when the House is sitting.

For backbenchers, instead of sitting on committees or speaking in the House, time is spent in the constituency office, dealing with constituency correspondence and developing their thoughts on the causes they stand for, perhaps strategies on how best to achieve their aims.

For members of the Government, like myself, recess means, to a surprisingly large extent, life as normal.

My recess week day still consists of much of the same – early morning constituency correspondence, followed by a full day of ministerial duties, and a night cap of work on the papers in my ‘box’, whilst my weekends are spent in West Dorset doing more of the same, none of which (I must add) would I change.

As I concluded my stroll to my parliamentary office, my thoughts led me to beg a question – recess… what recess!

There are times in your life when you realise the implications of the choices you have made.

One of these came to me a couple of weeks ago, when I found myself involved in the discussions at the National Security Council and Cabinet that led to the UK’s role in the international Libyan intervention.

It [...]]]> VIEW FROM WESTMINSTER

There are times in your life when you realise the implications of the choices you have made.

One of these came to me a couple of weeks ago, when I found myself involved in the discussions at the National Security Council and Cabinet that led to the UK’s role in the international Libyan intervention.

It isn’t until you find yourself sitting at meetings like this that you realise fully what it means to be part of a government. 

When a decision to act – or a failure to act – will quite directly affect the chances of survival of tens if not hundreds of thousands of people (in this case,  a large part of the civilian population of Benghazi), you come face to face with the fact that you have taken on an awesome responsibility.

The interesting thing is that, if my recent experience is anything to go by, such decisions are not taken in the way that the cynics would have us believe. 

Of course the judgements involved are very finely balanced and very difficult to make.  But at least I can testify that – if this case is, as I suspect, the norm – the basis on which the decision gets made is entirely a question of what is right or wrong.

When you have come to the conclusion that there is a real chance of persuading the international community to act in a way that will prevent mass slaughter, and when you have also come to the conclusion that this will happen only if we in Britain actively pursues that strategy, then you find yourself compelled by the moral logic, not by political calculations. 

I don’t mean, of course, that this in any way guarantees that the right decision will be made.  The judgements are too difficult to permit any such guarantee. 

But at least it is reassuring to know that the question being asked is the right one.  In the end, liberal democracy stands or falls even more by the questions it asks than by the answers it gives.

One of the most extraordinary things about government is the sheer breadth and variety of its concerns and activities. This has come home to me even more forcibly in the last few weeks than it had in the previous few months.

The amazing sequence of revolutions in the Middle East and North Africa have, [...]]]> VIEW FROM WESTMINSTER

One of the most extraordinary things about government is the sheer breadth and variety of its concerns and activities. This has come home to me even more forcibly in the last few weeks than it had in the previous few months.

The amazing sequence of revolutions in the Middle East and North Africa have, of course, occupied an enormous amount of time and effort at the centre of our government – just as they have in the centre of government of every other major country in the world.

And the earthquakes in New Zealand and Japan have also, rightly captured the world’s attention.

But, at the very same time, we are heading in the UK towards a very important Budget, we are engaged in huge and controversial reforms in public services, and we are struggling to cure the deficit we have inherited.

It is all too easy to become absorbed in any one of these incredibly important problems.

But, of course, it is vital that people at the centre of any government should maintain a proper balance and continue to focus on all of the really important issues all of the time, rather than allowing themselves to be entirely pre-occupied with one or other of them for a long period.

This is not just because each thing matters in its own right. It is also because they are all ultimately connected with one another. If the international situation becomes unstable, this has an effect on the domestic economy (as we are seeing right now with oil prices); and if the domestic economy and public services are not working properly, then we can’t play our proper role in helping to make the world around us more stable and secure.

This interconnectedness is part of what makes the business of government both so complicated and so fascinating.

When you are trying to run a country properly, nothing is as simple as it looks.

Every single thing affects everything else and is affected by everything else. It’s rather like somebody trying to get a particular shape out of a kaleidoscope, or like somebody trying to make a particular picture out of a jigsaw puzzle. All the pieces have to be brought together in the right way — no easy task.

Amidst all the very serious – and inevitably very controversial – things that the Government is doing, the Westminster village has been amusing itself with two rather spectacular side shows.

One – to which it is perhaps best to allude only gently – is the rather exciting poses struck by the Speaker’s wife.  I [...]]]> VIEW FROM WESTMINSTER

Amidst all the very serious – and inevitably very controversial – things that the Government is doing, the Westminster village has been amusing itself with two rather spectacular side shows.

One – to which it is perhaps best to allude only gently – is the rather exciting poses struck by the Speaker’s wife.  I will leave it to the imagination of the readers of this column how this particular fragment of our national life has been received in the tea rooms and bars and libraries and lobbies of the Palace of Westminster.

But, at the opposite end of the building from Speaker’s House, lies the House of Lords.  And here, too, events of a quite unusual nature have been occurring in recent weeks.

Over the course of the last 15 years, I have at various times trooped along to the Chamber of the House of Lords to stand at the bar and listen to their lordships’ discourse.  (I think I have some sort of right to advance further into the Chamber and sit on the steps of the throne – but I have never been sure if I am really entitled to do this, and I have never had the courage to try it, so I have stood for sometimes prolonged periods, moving from foot to foot and grabbing the bar while listening to the ebb and flow of the debate.)

On all previous occasions, I have been struck by the extraordinary courtesy and rationality of the proceedings – not always quantities in plentiful supply down the corridor in the House of Commons.

One of the marks of the difference is that, instead of the Speaker seeking to maintain control by nominating particular people to take part in a debate at any given time, their lordships exercise such splendid self discipline that they require no guidance from the Speaker and give way to one another if more than one of them is moved to speak at the same moment.

Another marked difference lies in the fact that one quite often hears in the House of Lords a speech by somebody who can genuinely be described as an expert on a particular subject.  Sometimes, indeed, an entire debate will proceed from expert to expert in a rather dizzying display of profundity – something that is pretty much out of fashion in the Commons.

But, when I have gone to the bar to listen to debates in the House of Lords in the last few weeks, it has not been for any of these reasons.  On the contrary, it has been to witness an almost indefinitely long series of entirely pointless speeches by people whose purpose was solely to prolong debate.  This technique of “filibuster”, now prevented in the Commons by a strict timetable, is a new departure for their lordships – and one which appears to have been introduced in a burst of nostalgia by a ring of former MPs who now find themselves translated to higher things.

I did not actually spot any of the speakers draped only in sheets – but there was definitely something at least as risqué about these filibustering peers as there as about the chatelaine of Speaker’s House.

From my own point of view, the dates of Parliament sitting are not particularly significant, since both constituency work and the work of government go on regardless of the Parliamentary timetable – [...]]]> The Christmas holidays (rather shorter for some of us than others) are now firmly over and Westminster is back to work with a vengeance.

From my own point of view, the dates of Parliament sitting are not particularly significant, since both constituency work and the work of government go on regardless of the Parliamentary timetable – and, as someone with responsibility for policy in general rather than for any particular Department, I do not find myself spending hours and hours taking particular legislation through the House of Commons.

But occasionally, I am called into the House to answer questions from a Select Committee or on the floor of the House itself.  And this is exactly what happened just after Parliament came back to work in the New Year.  I was commanded to appear before the Public Administration Select Committee to answer questions about the Government’s business plans.

This is a fairly terrifying ordeal for any Minister.

The Government’s business plans span around 500 pages of densely packed timetables and data.  And, despite the fact that I have been involved in constructing all of them, it is manifestly impossible to remember everything about all of them at any one moment.  But the members of the Select Committee in a horseshoe opposite the luckless interviewee, can ask anything about anything and they certainly expect a coherent answer without delay.

You have only got to exhibit a slight hesitation and a pause for thought to find yourself with the piercing eyes of every member of the Committee clearly indicating that they have spotted a Minister who doesn’t know what he is talking about.  And, of course, there is nothing that Parliamentarians enjoy more than discovering that a fellow Member who has the luck to be in ministerial office is incompetent.

The other terrifying feature of the scene is that there is a very fine convention that, however rebarbative or aggressive the Committee becomes, the witness appearing before it must always recognise it as an emanation of the majesty of Parliament and must maintain complete courtesy.  So any attempt to respond in a way that would suggest any lack of esteem for the Committee itself, or for the questions it is posing is regarded as a case of lèse majesté and leads to immediate disaster for the Minister or other witness concerned.  This, of course, helps to keep the atmosphere much more sensible than it typically is in the bear-pit of Prime Minister’s Questions; but it also means that you have a very distinct feeling of treading continuously on egg shells.

In the event, on this occasion, I am happy to report that the Committee was gentle enough – but preparing for the event and walking into the room was certain enough to dispel any memories of the Christmas pudding.