It’s a tragedy of modern plutocratic Britain: if you want to rise, follow the Piers Morgan playbook

George Monbiot in The Guardian

It was one of the abiding mysteries of public life. How did Piers Morgan rise so far? I see him as a buffoon, a bully, a windbag. Yet, despite scandals that would have killed most people’s careers, he rose like a methane bubble in a slurry lagoon, occupying some of the most prestigious and lucrative positions in the media. This week, reflecting on the life and abuses of the plutocrat Mohamed Al Fayed, Private Eye magazine produced an explanation. It came from Morgan himself, writing about Fayed in 1999. “I’ve always made it a strict rule in life to ingratiate myself with three categories of people: newspaper owners, potential newspaper owners and billionaires. And since Mohamed Al Fayed is a billionaire and would love to own a newspaper, sucking up to him seems an extremely sensible move.”

The strategy is not unusual. But voicing it is. Morgan expressed the unspoken rule of public life out loud. If you want to get ahead, grovel to billionaires, especially those who own the media. The obvious coda to the rule is: “because they are the people with real power”.

Plenty of rules are broken without consequence. You can appear on the BBC while hiding your financial interests, breaking its editorial guidelines, as long as you are channelling the demands of the very rich. You can breach parliamentary rules without punishment – by lying, or by failing to update your register of interests, or by taking a second job without clearance when your ministerial career ends – as long as you remain a loyal servant of big money. But Morgan’s Rule is the one that must not be broken. If you are a political party and you want a sniff at power, if you are a commentator who wants to appear on the BBC, you must observe it. Otherwise you will be vilified or excluded.

‘Since Mohamed Al Fayed is a billionaire and would love to own a newspaper, sucking up to him seems an extremely sensible move,’ wrote Piers Morgan in 1999. Photograph: Reuters

Morgan and journalists like him are members of the concierge class, which provides a wide range of services to economic power. Some of them, such as editors of the billionaire media and the junktanks of Tufton Street, specialise in translating the outrageous demands of oligarchs and corporations into what looks like political common sense, or in attacking plutocrats’ critics or transferring blame for their impacts on to immigrants, the Labour party and other customary scapegoats.

Some of them, such as lobbyists, specialise in reputation-laundering: brokering deals between grim plutocrats and cultural institutions – universities, museums, opera houses, charities – which, in return for lavish donations, will name faculties, professorships, galleries, funds and prizes after their sponsors, transforming violent kleptocrats into pillars of society.

Others, including lawyers, accountants, bankers and wealth managers, specialise in hiding and washing their money, buying them special visas, or suing and hounding their critics. This is why organised crime loves London. It takes advantage of both England’s ultra-permissive financial laws and its ultra-repressive libel laws.

The government is always ready to help. In 2021, while Rishi Sunak was chancellor of the exchequer, lawyers acting for Yevgeny Prigozhin, the late brutal chief of Russia’s Wagner mercenary group, applied to the Treasury for permission to override the sanctions against him, so that he could sue the investigative journalist Eliot Higgins. Sunak’s Treasury granted the special licences they requested and even approved sanctions-busting flights to St Petersburg so they could plan their legal attack.

In this way a few dozen people, assisted by thousands of concierges, can dominate our lives. The system we call democracy is a mere patina, sticky and dimpled, on the surface of oligarchic power.

There are many ways in which economic power translates into political power, and none of them are good for us. The most obvious is campaign finance: the sponsorship not only of political parties but of entire systems of political thought and action. These transactions muscle the interests of society out of politicians’ minds. Some of them are enormous. Last year, the US website the Lever exposed a $1.3bn (£1bn) transfer of money from a little-known billionaire, Barre Seid, to a new political advocacy group run by an ultraconservative. How can mere citizens compete?

‘Rishi Sunak’s administration, run by an oligarch for oligarchs, produces assurances that it will close economic crime loopholes, then subtly tweaks the legislation to keep them open.’ Photograph: Dan Kitwood/PA

Financial power also ensures that the rules supposed to stop economic crime and the laundering of its proceeds contain loopholes wide enough for a superyacht to sail through. For the past few months, members of the House of Lords have been battling to remove the obvious get-out clauses from the economic crime bill passing through parliament. The government has thwarted it at every turn. In the debate on Monday, the Conservative peer Lord Agnew – the very opposite of a radical firebrand – complained that “the government continue to say one thing and then do something different”. Sunak’s administration, run by an oligarch for oligarchs, produces heart-thumping assurances that it will close the loopholes, then subtly tweaks the legislation to keep them open.

Money’s might ensures that its environmental impacts are unrestrained. Recently, I was told about a multimillionaire who had intended to fly in his private jet to a luxury resort, only to change his mind at the last minute and decide to go to a different place, with a shorter landing strip. The plane was too heavy to land there, so it sat on the tarmac and burnt off $15,000 of fuel before setting out. Sunak treats the UK as a flyover state, travelling by helicopter and private jet to places he could easily reach by train. Kylie Jenner and Floyd Mayweather zip about on private flights of less than 20 minutes. Each of them negates the efforts of thousands of ordinary mortals to live within the limits of a habitable planet.

But these specific impacts fail to capture the aggregate effect: the remarkable way in which society comes to reflect the demands of the ultra-rich. Almost everyone in public life accepts the same set of preposterous beliefs. That economic growth can continue indefinitely on a finite planet; that the unhindered acquisition of enormous fortunes by a few is acceptable, even commendable; that they should be allowed to own as much natural wealth as their money permits; that there’s nothing objectionable about a few offshore billionaires owning the media and setting the political agenda; that anyone who disputes such notions has no place in civil society. We are free to speak, up to but not beyond this point: the point on which everything hangs.

Morgan’s maxim is not just the unspoken rule. It is also the unspeakable truth. Everyone knows it, hardly any will mention it. It underpins our august institutions, our legal codes, our manners and mores. It is the great silence we need to break.

Our shared values deserve better than a pointless term like ‘spirit of cricket’

The culture of English cricket is but one concept of morality – no person, and certainly no country, has a monopoly on virtue writes Jonathan Liew in The Guardian


So let’s talk about Nepal v Ireland in the Oman Quadrangular Twenty20 series last year. Ireland are 114 for eight in the 19th over when the ball is hit towards mid-on. The Oman bowler Kamal Singh lunges at it in his follow-through. At the same time the Ireland non-striker, Andy McBrine, tries to scamper through for a single. The pair collide. McBrine falls over. Singh keeps his balance, and tosses the ball to the wicketkeeper Aasif Sheikh, with the batter still sprawled on the turf, miles out of his ground.

The laws of cricket have nothing to say on situations such as this. Neither player is deliberately obstructing the other; neither player can avoid the collision without giving up a significant sporting advantage. Sheikh is perfectly at liberty to complete the run-out. But he does not. He holds on to the ball and lets McBrine complete the single, an act of sporting goodwill that will later earn him the International Cricket Council’s Spirit of Cricket award.

Yes, here we go again: a think-piece about the current Ashes series that has very little to do with the current Ashes series. One of the reasons the dismissal of Jonny Bairstow by Alex Carey on Sunday has created so much noise is because it is one of those issues where no expertise whatsoever is required to express an opinion. Anyone can participate in this game: Rishi Sunak, Sue off Twitter, Jeremy Vine, your best mate who doesn’t really know anything about cricket but thinks Josh Tongue is a funny name. Let’s fulminate. Let’s pontificate. Let’s play.

 

At which point we run into the minor inconvenience of Law 20.1.2, which is basically unequivocal on the point that Bairstow was out. Nobody really seems to dispute this, or even have a workable alternative to the law as it stands. What, then, is everyone arguing about? Ultimately, it comes down to ownership and territory and narrative and culture: who gets to define cricket, and in whose benefit they do so. And thus it is again – with deepest apologies – necessary once again to discuss Bazball.

There is a common thread running through England’s new vibes-based style of cricket and the piqued outrage that has greeted Bairstow’s stumping. Both, ultimately, are grounded in an idea of impunity and presumption: an assertion that England and England alone gets to adjudicate on what is good for the game. We get to say what constitutes entertainment. We get to decide how Test cricket must be saved. And, by extension, we get to judge what is sporting and fair, the norms of behaviour that our opponents will be expected to follow. You can keep your silly rules. We stand for more.

Of course, England is by no means alone in its sense of exceptionalism. Australia has long declared itself the moral arbiter of where “the line” stands in terms of sledging. India creates most of the sport’s revenue, and before long it will probably conclude that it should be creating most of the sport’s morality as well. The through-line here is power: the power to generate headlines, to set an agenda, to establish norms and impose them on others. In a sport as ritualistic as cricket, governed as much by tacit understandings and shared assumptions as written laws, this kind of soft power allows those with a platform to build an ethical framework around their own values and priorities.

 

Is it outlandish to posit that the reason Bairstow strayed out of his ground was because he had internalised a mindset in which rules were optional and the vibe was the thing? Feels like the end of the over? Hell, assume it probably is. The dismissal felt wrong to me, and it may well have felt wrong to you too. But then we have all been steeped in the culture of English cricket, with all its inherent flaws and biases and blind spots. It is but one concept of sporting morality, and it is probably about time we recognised there were others.

The real shame here is that so much of the discourse either falls along tribal lines or is couched in pointless terms such as “spirit of cricket”. Perhaps we need an alternative vocabulary here: what is unsatisfyingly described as the “spirit of cricket” is so often just a kind of basic empathy, a politeness, a willingness to treat others as one would wish to be treated. There is common ground to be found here, a recognition that there are parts of every sport that rules cannot delineate, because humans are complex and life is messy and the best sports express the very fullest of both. 

Let Carey be judged on his own free will, just as Sheikh was when he refused to rugn out McBrine. But you will also need to know that after Ireland’s reprieve McBrine hit the next ball for six, the last two wickets put on 13 runs and Ireland won a tight low-scoring game. Sheikh’s conscience may have been clear. But his team probably ended up bottom of the table as a result. “It would have been unfair to the opponent,” he said later. “We wouldn’t be pleased if our team had got the wicket in that manner, since it would be against our culture.”

Let us have a conversation about what cricket’s shared values should really be, and let those with the smallest platforms speak first. Let us recognise that no person, and certainly no country, has a monopoly on virtue. Let us fulminate. Let us pontificate. This is, after all, everyone’s game, and everyone can play.

‘Same old Aussies, always cheating!’ Chants cut deep for a nation still scarred by sandpaper

It was shocking to watch a baying crowd at Lord’s hurl abuse at players for effecting a stumping within the laws of the game writes Megan Maurice in The Guardian

In most sports, players simply follow the rules laid out for them, which are enforced by umpires or referees. If they break a rule, a consequence is applied and play resumes. There are times, naturally, when athletes are accused of being unsporting, but there is rarely a drawn-out debate over players following the rules exactly as written and being scolded for doing so.

Cricket is a very different beast in many ways. No more clearly did we see this play out than on day five of the second Ashes Test. Where the two cricketing nations of England and Australia are concerned, history is a living and hotly contested document, one that is constantly being grappled over and argued about. So as soon as Jonny Bairstow was stumped by Alex Carey and the third umpire sent him on his way, battle lines were drawn between Australian fans staking out their ground on the side of a “fair and legal dismissal” and the English abandoning their Sunday lunch plans to fight for “the spirit of cricket”. 

For those Australians, the incident cut deep. The scars of sandpaper-gate are still visible. Memories are fresh of cricket heroes crying on international television, the prime minister indicting it as a “shocking disappointment” and Australian cricket being brought into disrepute. It all sits just below the surface. Yet as difficult as it was, most Australian fans took the criticism on the chin; they were equally disappointed with the team and prepared for the onslaught of derision.

However, this is a new era of the Australian men’s cricket team. The biggest criticism most people can make of captain Pat Cummins is that he cares too deeply about social issues. Coach Andrew McDonald seems satisfied to work in the background, rather than front the media. The team has rehabilitated its image considerably over the last five years.

So it was painful for the scars to be ripped open so forcefully and painfully as boos rang out around Lord’s, followed by cries of “Aussie! Aussie! Aussie! Cheat! Cheat! Cheat!” and “Same old Aussies, always cheating!”

Then there was the abuse of players as they walked through the Long Room to lunch, which was perhaps even more galling considering the waiting list of approximately 29 years and £500 ($955 AUD) annual membership fee paid to be part of this exclusive club.

 


With history simmering under the surface, it was shocking to watch the baying crowd hurl abuse at the touring players – not for breaking a key law of the game around attempting to alter the condition of the ball – but for their keeper throwing the ball at the stumps and effecting a stumping within the laws of the game.

Once the immediate injustice of the situation settled down, responses have mostly been tinged with bemusement. Most people can name a similar incident that occurred in club or junior cricket, with an unsuspecting batter, who did not quite have a grasp on what a crease was or the importance of staying in one while batting, caught out by a more wily wicketkeeper.  

Many Australians have been quick to point out the hypocrisy of the uproar from England – with incidents from Bairstow’s shy at the stumps of Marnus Labuschagne the day before, to his similar dismissal of New Zealand’s Colin de Grandhomme in a 2022 Test match, to current England coach Brendon McCullum’s dismissal of Sri Lanka’s Muttiah Muralitharan while the latter was celebrating the century of teammate Kumar Sangakkara.

The mood of the nation was neatly summed up by cricket writer Dan Liebke who noted: “Always very interesting to me how the spirit of cricket seems to revolve around England batters being allowed to bat on even when they’re out.”

Between the jokes, there is a genuine confusion about what the “spirit of cricket” entails and when it is applied. These debates usually crop up whenever a Mankad is effected, but to have widened the field to include stumpings makes things even more complicated. For Australian fans, it was one thing to face up to the accusation of cheating when it was true, but quite another when it occurred in this murky, grey area between the rules and the mysterious “spirit of the game” – an area for which England, at least, seem to hold a map.

Polls no ‘guarantee against tyranny of the elected, says Chief Justice of India N.V. Ramana

 

The secret of Johnson’s success lies in his break with Treasury dominance

Gordon Brown’s rule-based approach shaped Whitehall for two decades. But the Tories are forging a new politics that has little regard for prudence writes William Davies in The Guardian

 

Illustration: Eva Bee/The Guardian Thu 20 May 2021 07.00 BST

 

The Conservative party’s growing electoral dominance in non-metropolitan England, so starkly re-emphasised by results in the north-east, has been attributed to various causes. Brexit and the popularity of Boris Johnson both count for a great deal. But while Labour is busy telling voters how much it deserved to lose, this is only half the picture. A major part of Johnson’s appeal is the way he has escaped the shadow cast by one of Britain’s three most significant political figures of the past 45 years: not Margaret Thatcher or Tony Blair, but Gordon Brown. 

The 1994 meeting between Blair and Brown at the Granita restaurant in Islington, north London, shortly after John Smith’s death, is the founding myth of New Labour: the moment when Brown agreed to let Blair stand for the leadership, on certain conditions. In addition to Blair’s much disputed commitment to serve only two terms in office should he become prime minister, there was also his promise that Brown, as chancellor, would get control over the domestic policy agenda. At least the second of these commitments was honoured, resulting in a situation where, from 1997 to 2007, the Treasury held an overwhelming dominance over the rest of Whitehall, while Brown was implicitly unsackable.

But, together with his adviser Ed Balls, Brown was also the architect of a new apparatus of economic policymaking designed for the era of globalisation. The central problem that Balls and Brown confronted was how to build the capacity for higher levels of social spending, while also retaining financial credibility in an age of far more mobile capital than any confronted by previous Labour governments. The fear was that, with financial capital able to cross borders at speed, a high-spending government might be viewed suspiciously by investors and lenders, making it harder for the state to borrow cheaply. The first part of their answer endures to this day: operational independence was handed to the Bank of England, accompanied by an inflation target. No longer could politicians seek to win elections by cutting interest rates, a move that aimed to win the trust of the markets.

On top of this, Brown also introduced a culture of almost obsessive fiscal discipline, as if the bond markets would attack the moment he showed any flexibility – the same paranoia that shaped Clintonism. His “golden rule”, outlined in his first budget, stated that, over the economic cycle, the government could borrow only to invest, not for day-to-day spending. The Treasury governed the rest of Whitehall according to a strict economic rubric, demanding every spending proposal was audited according to orthodox neoclassical economics.

Balls later wrote that their thinking had been guided by an influential 1977 article, Rules Rather than Discretion, in which two economists, Finn Kydland and Edward Prescott, sought to demonstrate that policymakers will produce far better economic outcomes if they stick rigidly to certain principles and heuristics of policy, rather than seeking to intervene on a case-by-case basis. Brown’s robotic persona and his mantra of “prudence” conveyed a programme that was so focused on policy as to be oblivious to more frivolous aspects of politics.

Elements of this Brownite machine remained in place during the David Cameron-George Osborne years: a chancellor acting as a kind of parallel prime minister, transforming society through force of cost-benefit analysis, only now the fiscal tide was going out rather than in. Even “Spreadsheet Phil” Hammond sustained the template as far as he could, in the face of ever-rising attacks from the Brexit extremists in his own party. The point is that, from 1997 to 2019, the government largely meant the Treasury. Those powers that are so foundational for the modern nation state – to tax, borrow and spend – were the basis on which governments asked to be judged, by voters and financial markets.

Various things have happened to weaken the Treasury’s political authority over the past five years, though – significantly – none of these has yet seemed to weaken the government’s credibility in the eyes of the markets. First, there was the notorious cooked Brexit forecast published in May 2016, predicting an immediate recession, half a million job losses and a house price crash, should Britain vote to leave. The referendum itself, a mass refusal to view the world in terms of macroeconomics, meant there could be no going back to a world in which politics was dominated by economists.

Consider how different things are now from in Brown’s heyday. Johnson’s first chancellor, Sajid Javid, lasted little more than six months in the job, resigning after one of his aides was sacked by Dominic Cummings without his knowledge. His second, Rishi Sunak, may have high political ambitions and approval ratings, but scarcely forms the kind of double-act with Johnson that Brown did with Blair, or Osborne with Cameron. Johnson’s cabinet is notable for lacking any obvious next-in-line leader.

What’s more interesting are the parts of Whitehall that have suddenly risen in profile under Johnson: communities and local government under Robert Jenrick, and the Department for Digital, Culture Media and Sport under Oliver Dowden. With the “levelling up” agenda of the former, (manifest in such pork barrel politics as the Towns Fund) and the “culture war” agenda of the latter (evident in attacks on the autonomy of museums), a new vision of government is emerging, one that is no longer afraid of expressing cultural favouritism or fixing deals. Balls and Brown were inspired by “rules rather than discretion”; now there’s no better way to sum up Jenrick’s disgraceful governmental career to date than “discretion rather than rules”.

In the background, of course, are the unique fiscal and financial circumstances produced by Covid, in which all notions of prudence have been thrown out of the window. With the Bank of England buying most of the additional government bonds issued over the last 15 months (beyond the wildest imaginings of Balls and Brown), and with the cost of borrowing close to zero, the rationale for strict fiscal discipline or austerity has currently evaporated. Paradoxically, a situation in which the Treasury can find an emergency £60bn to pay the country’s wages makes for a popular chancellor, but may make for a less powerful Treasury.

Amid all this, Labour is left in an unenviable position, which is in many ways deeply unfair. So long as the Tories are associated with Brexit, England and Johnson, the voters don’t expect them to exercise any kind of discipline, fiscal or otherwise. Meanwhile, Labour remains associated with a Treasury worldview: technocratic, London-centric, British not English, rules not discretion. What’s doubly unfair is that, thanks to the serial fictions of Osborne and the Tory press from 2010 onwards that Labour had “spent all the money”, it is not even viewed as economically trustworthy. In the end, it turned out that public perceptions of financial credibility were largely shaped by political messaging and media narratives, not by adherence to self-imposed fiscal rules.

In the eyes of party members, New Labour will be for ever tarred by Blair and Iraq. In the eyes of much of the country, however, it will be tarred by some vague memory of centralised Brownite spending regimes. The fact that Labour receives so little credit for Brown’s undoubted successes as a spending chancellor is due to many factors, but ultimately consists in the fact that the technocratic, Treasury view of the world was never adequately translated into a political story. Osborne simply presented himself as the inheritor of a centralised “mess” that needed cleaning up.

The recent elections demonstrated that all political momentum is now with the cities and nations of Britain: the Conservatives in leave-voting England, Andy Burnham in Manchester, the SNP in Scotland, Labour in Wales. Rather than making weak gestures towards the union jack or against London, Labour needs to think deeply about the kind of statecraft and policy style that is suited to such a moment, so as to finally leave the world of Granita and “golden rules” behind.

Brexit and Trump have exposed the left’s crucial flaw: playing by the rules

Jonathan Freedland in The Guardian


 

Illustration by Matt Kenyon


Join me in a little thought experiment. Imagine, if you would, that the Brexit referendum had gone the other way, 48% voting to leave and 52% to remain. What do you think Nigel Farage would have said? Would he have nodded ruefully and declared: “The British people have spoken and this issue is now settled. Our side lost and we have to get over it. It’s time to move on.”

Or would he have said: “We’ve given the establishment the fright of their lives! Despite everything they threw at us, they could only win by the skin of their teeth. It’s clear now that British support for the European project is dead: nearly half the people of this country want rid of it. Our fight goes on.”

I know which I’d bet on. Next, imagine what would have happened if, as a result of that narrow win for remain, a gaping hole in the public finances had opened up as the economy reeled, and even leading remainers admitted the machinery of state could barely cope. Farage and the rest would have denounced the chaos, boasting that this proved they had been right all along, that the voters had been misled and therefore must be given another say.

As we all know, reality did not work out this way. Next week the chancellor will deliver an autumn statement anchored in the admission that, as the Financial Times put it, “the UK faces a £100bn bill for Brexit within five years”. Thanks to the 23 June vote, the forecast is for “slower growth and lower-than-expected investment”.

Meanwhile, the government will reportedly have to hire an extra 30,000 civil servants to implement Brexit – that’s 6,000 more than the total staff employed by the European Union. In other words, in order to escape a vast, hulking bureaucracy we’re going to have to build a vast, hulking bureaucracy. (But these bureaucrats will speak English and have blue, hard-cover passports, so it’ll be OK.) Even the leavers don’t deny the scale of the undertaking they have dumped in our collective lap. Dominic Cummings, the zealot who masterminded the Vote Leave campaign, this week tweeted a description of Brexit as “hardest job since beating Nazis”. Sadly, there was no room for that pithy phrase on Vote Leave posters back in the spring.


The government will reportedly have to hire an extra 30,000 civil servants for Brexit – 6,000 more than the EU's total

And yet you do not hear remainers howling – as the leavers would if the roles were reversed – that this is an outrage so appalling it surely voids the referendum result. “We never voted for this,” they’d be bellowing, through the megaphone provided to them by most of the national papers, as they read that Brussels is likely to demand Britain cough up €60bn (£51bn) in alimony following our divorce.

Instead, the 48% exchange ironic, world-weary tweets, the electronic equivalent of a sigh, each time they read of some new hypocrisy or deception by the forces of leave. The single market is a perfect example. As a few, admirable voices have been noting, during the campaign the loudest Brexiteers were at pains to stress that leaving the EU did not mean leaving the single market. “Absolutely nobody is talking about threatening our place in the single market,” said Daniel Hannan. “Only a madman would actually leave the market,” said Owen Patterson. In the spring, Farage constantly urged us to be like Norway – which in fact pays through the nose and accepts free movement of people in order to remain in the single market. Yet now we are told that the vote to leave the EU was a clear mandate to leave the single market, and we’ve got to get on with it.

The correct response to this should be fury, along with a stubborn commitment to use every democratic tool at our disposal to stop it happening. We know that’s what the other side would do, if the boot were on the other foot. But just look at the state of the official opposition. Labour’s Keir Starmer is struggling valiantly to oppose the government on Brexit without appearing to defy the will of the people. He’s arguing for a bespoke arrangement, one that would give Britain full, tariff-free access to the single market, as well as highlighting the risks of leaving the customs union – and, above all making the case that saving the economy matters more than reducing immigration. (Theresa May clearly thinks it’s the other way around.)

I’d prefer an even simpler message: the people voted to leave the EU, not the single market, and Labour should fight for Britain’s place in the latter. But at least Starmer’s message is coherent. The trouble is, it’s undermined from the very top. This week the shadow chancellor, John McDonnell, far from opposing Brexit, urged Labour to “embrace the enormous opportunities to reshape our country that Brexit has opened for us”.

That’s not resistance. It’s surrender. And there has been similar weakness on the question of triggering article 50. MPs should withhold their vote until they know exactly what kind of Brexit the government intends. Yes, the government has the right to implement the people’s will. But the people voted to head for the exit; they were given no say over the destination once we’ve gone. Parliament can legitimately use its leverage to flush out some answers.

The point is, none of this is any more than the right would do. And this nods to a wider weakness, one that afflicts the centre-left, broadly defined, on both sides of the Atlantic. Too often, we play nice, sticking to the Queensberry rules – while the right takes the gloves off.

A prime example is unfolding right now. The final tallies of the election show that Hillary Clinton won at least a million more votes than Donald Trump. Oh well, shrug most Democrats: the electoral college is the system we have and, under those rules, we lost. True. But just imagine if Trump had won the popular vote by a seven-figure margin, only to be denied the presidency in the electoral college. Do we think he would have been a good sport and accepted it?

Happily, we don’t have to imagine. We can look at the tweets he posted in 2012, when he briefly thought Mitt Romney had garnered more votes than Barack Obama. “This election is a total sham and a travesty. We are not a democracy!” he said. He called for people to take to the streets and stage a “revolution”. As he put it, “phoney electoral college made a laughing stock out of our nation. The loser one [sic]!”

We can laugh at the inconsistency, but the contrast is striking. Democrats grumble but abide by the rules; Republicans immediately dial up the rhetoric and denounce their opponents as illegitimate, eventually paralysing their ability to act. That was the admitted strategy of congressional Republicans in the first Obama term: a determined effort to prevent him governing at all.

Democrats don’t play that game. Obama constantly strove to be “bipartisan”, even appointing Republicans to key jobs. (The FBI director, James Comey, was a Republican appointee, yet Obama renewed his term – with fateful consequences. A Republican president would not have hesitated to install his own man.)

Again and again, one side bows to the rules and to what’s fair – while the other focuses on the ruthless exercise of power. We’re seeing it now, as Trump stacks his team with a bunch of bigots. I know which approach is the more high-minded and public spirited. But the result is that today, in both Britain and America, the right has power and next to nothing standing in its way. No one wants the left to behave like the right – but it’s time we fought just as hard.

The non-EU workers who’ll be deported for earning less than £35,000

 Despite having spent her adult life in London, Alyson Frazier could be sent back to the US under new income rules. Photograph: Linda Nylind for the Guardian


Donna Ferguson in The Guardian


Alyson Frazier, a 25-year-old classical musician from Washington DC, is trying to describe how it feels when people ask her whether she wants to stay in Britain. “It’s like asking a fish: ‘How’s the water?’. London is my home. This is where I have built my adult life since the age of 19.”

Unfortunately Frazier – who has a first class MA from the Royal Academy of Music and is the co-founder of Play for Progress, a therapeutic music programme for refugee children – only earns £17,000 a year.

That’s less than half the salary she, her fellow-Americans and other non-EU migrants will soon need to stay in the country permanently, thanks to rules being introduced next month.

From 6 April all skilled workers from outside the EU who have been living here for less than 10 years will need to earn at least £35,000 a year to settle permanently in the UK. Some jobs, such as nurses, are exempt (see How the rules are changing, right) but Frazier’s is not. Unless she gets a higher-paid job, she will be deported in September.

“I’ve chosen to take a lower salary because I’m trying to improve the lives of unaccompanied child refugees and do good in the world through music and education,” she says. “How do you put that on paper in a visa application? How do you show the value of trying to make a child’s life better?”

A petition to scrap the £35,000 threshold has attracted more than 100,000 signatures from British citizens and was debated in parliament on Monday. “I started the petition because I don’t want to live in a Britain that will quietly usher thousands of people out of the country without raising a whisper of protest,” says Josh Harbord, the British citizen behind the Stop35k campaign which has attracted the support of SNP, Labour and Green MPs. “I don’t want to live in a country that values people’s incomes over people’s contributions to society.”

But the government is adamant that the policy is fair, and that individuals have had many years to prepare.

A Home Office spokesman said: “In the past it has been too easy for some businesses to bring in workers from overseas rather than to take the long-term decision to train our workforce here at home.

“We need to do more to change that, which means reducing the demand for migrant labour. That is why we commissioned the Migration Advisory Committee to provide advice on significantly reducing economic migration from outside the EU. These reforms will ensure that businesses are able to attract the skilled migrants they need, but we also want them to get far better at recruiting and training UK workers first.”

Home secretary Theresa May was criticised for failing to attend the debate in person, instead sending a junior minister with an unrelated portfolio – Richard Harrington, minister for Syrian refugees – to defend the policy.

In its own impact assessment, the Home Office estimates the new salary threshold will cost the British economy between £181m and £171m (PDF), while the other organisations have put the cost much higher, at £761m (PDF).

The word ‘bonkers’ springs to mind. If the so-called gain is a modest one, why inflict so much pain?Stuart McDonald, SNP MP

“These new rules will damage the British economy, our standing overseas, and our society as a whole,” says Ralph Buckle, co-founder of the Commonwealth Exchange. “We have already seen dramatic falls in Commonwealth migration to the UK due to existing restrictions and the salary restrictions will only make things worse.”

Latest Home Office statistics show there were just over 55,000 applications for skilled work visas in the year to March 2015. Americans were among the largest groups – 12% of applications – while Australians made up a further 4%.

The government’s own admission that the reforms will only make a “modest” contribution to its target of reducing net migration was repeatedly highlighted during the debate: “The word ‘bonkers’ springs to mind,” said Stuart McDonald, an SNP MP. “If the so-called gain is a modest one, why inflict so much pain?”

Gillian Brown, 26, is one of the Australians at the receiving end of that pain. Her entire family decided to emigrate to the UK when she was 18 but, due to her age, she could only enter the country on a student visa (while her younger brothers were classed as dependents and are now full British citizens). She graduated with a first class BA and an MA from The University of Sheffield, and currently earns £20,300 as an online marketing assistant after moving into a skilled workers’ Tier 2 visa in 2014.

The fact Gillian Brown’s family emigrated to the UK is not enough to prevent her having to return to Australia. Photograph: Martin Godwin for the Guardian

“Previously, I’d have been able to apply for permanent residence in the UK after five years, earning my current salary. Not any more,” says Brown. “It’s a constant worry. If I can’t convince a company to sponsor me again next year, I’ll be deported back to Australia after eight years in the UK, and separated from my parents and brothers. But the British government doesn’t care about separating families – they’ve made that very clear. ”

Australian migration specialists True Blue say the new rules have caused a spike in the number of British-based Aussies looking to head back home. In the last week of January, it saw a 50% increase in calls seeking advice on how to secure their British partners a visa in Australia.

Walkabout, the Australian bar chain, has already begun stepping up its recruitment strategies to try to deal with any fallout from the visa restrictions. “We have been losing Australian staff for some time,” says Nina Marshall, HR director. “Recruiting Australians is essential to the authenticity of our brand and this challenge is only going to become significantly more difficult.”

Jeffries Briginshaw, CEO of BritishAmerican Business, is also concerned: “American companies are deeply entrenched in the UK economy and American citizens are part of UK society, whether this is in business, schools or families. Any restriction to the Tier 2 visa scheme will have a negative impact on the way American businesses operate in the UK and how American citizens can be part of the UK.”

It’s not only business leaders who are against the change. “Migrant teachers make a significant contribution to the UK,” says Kevin Courtney of the National Union of Teachers. “It seems absurdly counterproductive to force schools to dismiss migrant teachers they’ve trained and invested in, and who are still very much needed, at a time when highly skilled, qualified teachers are in great demand. The policy urgently needs to be reconsidered.”

Jon Excell, editor of trade publication The Engineer, is equally worried about the impact on the UK’s engineering sectors, which he says are also facing an acute and worrying skills shortage. “If the UK wants to maintain its position as a world leader in key areas of engineering, international skills are essential. Not just to fill roles, but to help UK-based firms retain an international perspective and reap the economic rewards of a diverse workforce. Yet the average salary of a junior engineer is just £32,000.”

The Home Office insists that the £35,000 threshold is a fair reflection of skilled salaries in the UK. It adds: “We do not believe there should be an automatic link between coming to work in the UK temporarily and staying permanently. The £35,000 threshold was set following advice from the Migration Advisory Committee, an independent advisory body consisting of expert labour market economists, and was equivalent to the median pay of the UK population in skilled jobs.”

It points out that anyone entering the UK on a Tier 2 basis has been aware of the changes since 2011. “Those individuals were aware when they entered that new settlement rules would apply to them. Employers have had since 2011 to prepare for the possibility that their non-European Economic Area workers may not meet the required salary threshold to remain permanently.”

Following the debate in Parliament the Stop35k campaign is urging the government to reconsider the implementation of the new rules, and to give the Migration Advisory Committee an opportunity to complete an assessment of suitable pay thresholds across different jobs and regions in the UK.

It says it will continue to lobby MPs, regardless of whether or not the policy is implemented as planned.

How the rules are changing

To enter or stay in the UK as a skilled worker, non-EU migrants must have a Tier 2 visa. To qualify, you must have been offered a job in the UK and have held at least £945 in your bank account for 90 days.

The job you’re offered must pay at least £20,800, although the government is currently considering a recommendation to raise this to £30,000. Certain occupations do not have to meet this threshold.

You must also get a certificate of sponsorship from your employer (which involves a fee of between £536 and £1,476), pay £200 per year as a healthcare surcharge and be able to prove your knowledge of the English language.

Non-EU migrants are only permitted to remain in the UK on Tier 2 visas for a maximum of six years.

However, at the moment, skilled workers who have been living here on these visas for five years are able to apply for “indefinite leave to remain” in the UK.

It’s this that is about to change (PDF).

From 6 April, only those who earn £35,000 a year will be eligible to apply for “indefinite leave to remain” once they have lived here for five years.

Nurses are temporarily exempt from this threshold, along with PhD level jobs and anyone whose occupation has ever been on the official “shortage occupation list” at any point while they have been living here. The new rules also do not apply to anyone who entered the country on a Tier 2 visa on or before 5 April 2011.

In January the Migration Advisory Committee also recommended the government set a £1,000-a-year levy on companies employing skilled migrants from outside the EU, and raise the salary threshold for Tier 2 visas from £20,800 to £30,000. The Home Office has not yet outlined its response.

There is still one route to permanent UK residence for low-earning migrants, however. You can apply for “indefinite leave to remain” if you’ve been living in the UK legally for 10 continuous years. There is no salary threshold for this.

For example, if you entered the UK 10 years ago on a student visa and moved directly onto a skilled workers’ visa – without ever leaving for more than 180 days at a time or for 540 days in total – you would be eligible to apply to settle in the UK, no matter how little you earned at that point.

Applying for “indefinite leave to remain” costs up to £1,900 and applications can take six months to process.

The Home Office says anyone who is unsure whether they may be affected by the changes can call the general inquiries for immigration matters on 0300 123 2241.

7 important grammar rules

Semicolons should be used rarely, if at all. And beware dangling modifiers!

By Ben Yagoda | March 14, 2013

 

These rules were not meant to be broken.

ThinkStock/iStockphoto

I

recently wrote an article for TheWeek.com about bogus grammar "rules" that aren't worth your time. However, there are still plenty of legitimate rules that you should be aware of. Not following them doesn't make you a bad person or even (necessarily) a bad writer. I'm sure that all of them were broken at one point or another by Henry James, Henry Adams, or some other major author named Henry. Moreover, grammar is one of the least pressing problems when it comes to the poor state of writing today. In my new book, How to Not Write Bad: The Most Common Writing Problems and the Best Ways to Avoid Them, things like wordiness, poor word choice, awkwardness, and bad spelling — which have nothing to do with grammar — take up the bulk of my attention.

Nevertheless, anyone who wants to write in a public setting has to be aware of grammar. (And I'm concerned with writing here; talking is a whole different ballgame.) If you make these errors, you're likely to be judged harshly by an editor you want to publish your work; an executive who, you hope, will be impressed enough by your cover letter to hire you; or a reader you want to be persuaded by your argument. In each case, there's a pretty easy workaround, so better safe than sorry. 

1. The subjunctive
This one is pretty simple. When you're writing about a non-true situation — usually following the word if or the verb wish — the verb to be is rendered as were.

So:

* If I was were a rich man.

* I wish I was were an Oscar Mayer wiener.

* If Hillary Clinton was were president, things would be a whole lot different.

If you are using if for other purposes (hypothetical situations, questions), you don't use the subjunctive.

* The reporter asked him if he were was happy.

* If an intruder were was here last night, he would have left footprints, so let's look at the ground outside.

2. Bad parallelism 
This issue comes up most often in lists, for example: My friend made salsa, guacamole, and brought chips. If you start out by having made cover the first two items, it has to cover subsequent ones as well. To fix, you usually have to do just a little rewriting. Thus, My friend made salsa and guacamole and brought chips to go with them.

3. Verb problems
There are a few persistent troublemakers you should be aware of. 

* I'm tired, so I need to go lay lie down.

* The fish laid lay on the counter, fileted and ready to broil.

* Honey, I shrunk shrank the kids.

* In a fit of pique, he sunk sank the toy boat.

* He seen saw it coming.

(The last three are examples of verbs where people sometimes switch the past and participle forms. Thus, it would be correct to write: I have shrunk the kids; He had sunk the boat; and He had seen it coming.)

4. Pronoun problemsLet's take a look at three little words. Not "I love you," but me, myself and I. Grammatically, they can be called object, reflexive, and subject. As long as they're by themselves, object and subject don't give anyone problems. That is, no one who's an adult native English speaker would say Me walked to the bus stop or He gave the book to I. For some reason, though, things can get tricky when a pronoun is paired with a noun. We all know people who say things like Me and Fred had lunch together yesterday, instead of Fred and I... Heck, most of us have said it ourselves; for some reason, it comes trippingly off the tongue. We also (most of us) know not to use it in a piece of writing meant to be published. Word to the wise: Don't use it in a job interview, either.

There's a similar attraction to using the subject instead of object. Even Bill Clinton did this back in 1992 when he asked voters to give Al Gore and I [instead of me] a chance to bring America back. Or you might say, Thanks for inviting my wife and I, or between you and I… Some linguists and grammarians have mounted vigorous and interesting defenses of this usage. However, it's still generally considered wrong and should be avoided. 

A word that's recently become quite popular is myself — maybe because it seems like a compromise between I and me. But sentences like Myself and my friends went to the mall or They gave special awards to Bill and myself don't wash. Change the first to My friends and I… and the second to Bill and me.

5. The 'dangling' conversation
In a class, I once assigned students to "review" a consumer product. One student chose a bra sold by Victoria's Secret. She wrote:

Sitting in a class or dancing at the bar, the bra performed well…. Though slightly pricey, your breasts will thank you. 

The two sentences are both guilty of dangling modifiers because (excuse me if I'm stating the obvious), the bra did not sit in a class or dance at the bar, and "your breasts" are not slightly pricey.

Danglers are inexplicably attractive, and even good writers commit this error a lot... in their first drafts. Here's a strategy for smoking these bad boys out in revision. First, recognize sentences that have this structure: MODIFIER-COMMA-SUBJECT-VERB. Then change the order to: SUBJECT-COMMA-MODIFIER-COMMA-VERB. If the result makes sense, you're good to go. If not, you have a dangler. So in the first sentence above, the rejiggered sentence would be:

The bra, sitting in a class or dancing at a bar, performed well.

Nuh-uh. The solution here, as it often is, is just to add a couple of words: Whether you're sitting in a class or dancing at the bar, the bra performs well.

6. The semicolon
I sometimes say that when you feel like using a semicolon, lay lie down till the urge goes away. But if you just can't resist, remember that there are really only two proper uses for this piece of punctuation. One is to separate two complete clauses (a construction with a subject and verb that could stand on its own as a sentence). I knocked on the door; no one answered. The second is to separate list items that themselves contain punctuation. Thus, The band played Boise, Idaho; Schenectady, New York; and Columbus, Ohio.

Do not use a semicolon in place of a colon, for example, There is only one piece of punctuation that gives Yagoda nightmares; the semicolon.

7. WordsAs I noted in my previous article, the meaning of words inevitably and perennially change. And you can get in trouble when you use a meaning that has not yet been widely accepted. Sometimes it's fairly easy to figure out where a word stands in this process. It's become more common to use nonplussed to mean not bothered, or unfazed, but that is more or less the opposite of the traditional meaning, and it's still too early to use it that way when you're writing for publication. (As is spelling unfazed as unphased.) On the other hand, no one thinks anymore that astonish means "turn to stone," and it would be ridiculous to object to anyone who does so. But there are a lot of words and expressions in the middle. Here's one man's list of a few meanings that aren't quite ready for prime time:

* Don't use begs the question. Instead use raises the question.

* Don't use phenomena or criteria as singular. Instead use phenomenon or criterion.

* Don't use cliché as an adjective. Instead use clichéd.

* Don't use comprised of. Instead use composed of/made up of.

* Don't use less for count nouns such people or miles. Instead use fewer.

* Don't use penultimate (unless you mean second to last). Instead use ultimate.

* Don't use lead as past tense of to lead. Instead use led.

I hesitate to state what should be obvious, but sometimes the obvious must be stated. So here goes: Do not use it's, you're or who's when you mean its, your or whose. Or vice versa!