Britain, European Union, Government, Politics, Society

A Brexit Plan B is needed

BREXIT

TIME is running out for Theresa May to save her Chequers plan.

The Cabinet have given the Prime Minister one last chance to sell her proposals to EU leaders at a summit next week.

Ministers have now warned, however, they will demand a Plan B if there is a repeat of the humiliating rejection she faced in Salzburg last month.

European Union negotiators have been talking up the chances of reaching an agreement at the meeting on issues such as the Irish border. But, largely, they are still refusing to accept the proposals set out in Mrs May’s Chequers plan on how a trade deal could work.

The European Commission is expected to offer the UK a “supercharged” free trade deal but will reject about 60 to 70 per cent of the Prime Minister’s blueprint, including the demand for frictionless trade.

Despite the anticipated setback, ministers are planning to hold off on moves to force Mrs May into ditching her Chequers plan until after next week’s meeting in Brussels.

Hopes of a breakthrough in Brexit talks have continued to rise as Ireland said the chances of a deal were good.

Dublin’s deputy prime minister Simon Coveney said: “The withdrawal treaty is already about 90 per cent agreed in terms of text – the issues that have not been signed off yet relate predominately to Ireland and the two negotiating teams need to lock themselves in a room.”

The more optimistic remarks came after both European Commission president Jean Claude Juncker and his counterpart at the European Council, Donald Tusk, delivered an unusually upbeat message.

 

YET, Theresa May remains adamant that it is either her Brexit plan or nothing. Brexiteers, most notably Boris Johnson, takes issue with Mrs May’s assertion and set out an alternative approach that would keep the promises previously made to leave the EU in a manner that fulfils the referendum mandate to return control to the UK.

Mr Johnson resigned from the Cabinet in July in protest at the policy thrashed out at Chequers, so his antipathy to that plan is well known. But, in the meantime, it has become clear that not only does he and many Conservative (and Opposition) MPs oppose Chequers, but so does the EU. Mrs May’s humiliation at Salzburg should have convinced the Prime Minister that her way is a dead end. Instead, she has decided to plough ahead with a set of proposals hardly anyone thinks can work.

The alternative put forward by Mr Johnson – as it was by the European Research Group of Conservative MPs recently – is for Britain to seek a Canada-style trade deal when talks on the future relationship begin after Brexit.

Mrs May insists that this would not solve the problem of the Irish border, in that the so-called “backstop” to which she has agreed would mean Northern Ireland staying – unlike the rest of the UK – in a customs union with the EU, thus breaking the Union.

Mr Johnson’s answer to this conundrum is for Mrs May to withdraw that promise. As he appreciates, that would mean a different type of withdrawal agreement would have to be negotiated and the Irish border question settled as part of future economic arrangements. It would, indeed, be a “difficult step” for Mrs May, who made the ill-advised pledge last December in order to move on to the next stage of the talks, only to find that it is proving an insuperable stumbling block to an acceptable agreement.

It may be a difficult step, but it is one she must be ready to make if the impasse is to be broken. We are now just days away from what is supposed to be the summit to settle the withdrawal agreement and only six months away from the Brexit date itself. We need a Plan B, and Mr Johnson has offered one. Not only Mrs May, but the Cabinet, too, need to consider that with time running out fast, accelerating towards the cliff edge is no longer a realistic option.

. See also Scotland’s EU Continuity Bill now being tested in Supreme Court

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Arts, Films

Film Review: The Wife (15 cert) 100 min

REVIEW

GLENN Close is the living actress who has most often been beaten to an Oscar: six times since 1982, the words “but no cigar” have been ringing in her ears. With The Wife, she has her best shot since Dangerous Liaisons (1989) of laying this curse to rest. The tantalising irony of the film is that it’s actually about an awards presentation – the Nobel Prize in literature, no less – and that her character is not the one receiving it. She’s the one sitting, in a manner Close presumably knows all too well, neglected and on the sidelines.

She is cast as Joan Castleman, destined forever to remain a mere adjunct to Joe (Jonathan Pryce), one of those Great American Novelists in the Roth/Updike mould. The pair have been married for most of a lifetime, ever since Joan’s college days, when Joe, her energetic professor, squirmed out of a loveless first marriage to pursue her. Their life together has involved a kind of crooked deal, where he gets all the credit for literary brilliance, and she uncomplainingly tags along. She turns a blind eye to his frequent affairs and often questions what exactly is in it for her.

Meg Wolitzer’s 2003 novel was narrated by Joan, and on its very first page, as Joe took fancy to an air stewardess on their flight, she began savagely outlining to the reader all the reasons why she planned to leave him. Adroitly adapted by Jane Anderson and directed by Swedish veteran Bjӧrn Runge, the film eases itself into her predicament more stealthily, laying down the basis for all her buried grievances. It lets Close come in wearing a kind of kabuki mask, a civilised if lightly sardonic front concealing who knows what dissatisfaction and anger lies beneath.

The glittering, frozen quality of her performance is as mesmeric as it is mysterious. The camera lingers on her often as she’s absorbing various slights: when Joe introduces her to peers at a pre-prizegiving social event, announcing “my wife doesn’t write”, her expression barely flickers, but the thermometer somehow drops a thousand degrees. When she watches him flirt with a photographer, you imagine daggers flying out of her eyes.

Veiled hints about the true nature of their marriage are gradually dropped by the script. A hack biographer played by Christian Slater, thwarted in his attempts to gain authorised access, pesters Joan into a private drink, hoping to prise those secrets out of her. But her ability to remain a smiling clam, who can toy with succulent revelations and even flirt with Slater without giving anything concrete away, should never be underestimated.

The Castlemans have a daughter, who has not followed them to Stockholm, and a son (Max Irons) who has, a would-be writer bitterly struggling to escape his father’s shadow. In the book he was a disturbed, occasionally violent computer nerd – a recluse – which felt like a less clichéd conception, but it has presumably been decided that the film needs someone on screen, besides Slater, who notices what doesn’t quite add up about Joe’s literary credentials: his ability, say, to forget the name of a major character from one of his novels.

Pryce’s bluff, garrulous performance suggests a born blagger, as well as an overgrown toddler whose ego needs constant spoon-feeding, whether from Joan, Nobel Prize committees, or the young woman he has managed to ensnare with his spuriously earned fame. The role fits Pryce like an expensive silk glove.

Still, the real point of The Wife is the interior journey it offers to Close, like a red carpet smoothly unfurling towards the kind of Oscar-clip-showcase scenes that genuinely warrant the airplay. She unleashes an explosion in a limousine that feels like 40 years of neglect and disappointment fizzing free from a test tube. But still that glacial repose is hers to resume, if Joan feels like it, choosing to become the sole custodian of her own private legacy.

Close could feasibly miss the Oscar, but watching her lose again – for this, of all roles – will be a thespian psychodrama for the ages.

Verdict: Glenn Close is on stupendous form. A mesmerising performance.

★★★★

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Britain, Government, Health, Society

Saving the overmighty NHS with little platoons

BEVERIDGE & THE NHS

THE National Health Service, which celebrated its 70th anniversary this summer, is not only the standard-bearer for Britain’s welfare state but also the cuckoo in the nest. The institution is a source of national pride, much loved and admired by the public, but also a source of exasperation. Its regular winter crises and its ongoing struggles with issues such as bed-blocking by older patients and the inability in some cases to offer even a half-decent service – recent figures released suggests that one patient waited more than 62 hours for an ambulance – raises relevant questions about whether taxpayers are getting the services they pay for.

They are certainly paying for it. The NHS’s “birthday present” this year – additional spending of more than £20bn per annum by the early 2020s – will add to the cost of an NHS that already accounts for nearly a third of all spending on public services. This is up from 10% in the early 1950s, and costs about 12 times as much what it did when it was founded.

The financing of the NHS has gone well beyond anything Lord Beveridge envisaged in his 1942 report which provided the blueprint for the postwar welfare state in Britain. The NHS – large, monolithic and one of the biggest employers in the world – has also moved beyond Beveridge in another way.

His 1942 report was one of three he wrote during that decade, the others being Full Employment in a Free Society in 1944 and Voluntary Action in 1948. Before the welfare state was established, much healthcare and support for the poor were provided by a network of voluntary organisations. The system was patchy and fell short of the universal care that was provided in 1948 (and which has expanded hugely since).

Beveridge was clear that the welfare state and voluntary action should be complementary, writing that “the state, in organising security, should not stifle incentive, opportunity, responsibility” and should “leave room and encouragement for voluntary action by each individual”.

Today, some are putting that into practice. HelpForce, for example, is, along with other charitable bodies, providing volunteer support to the NHS and is making a difference. Volunteers who ring patients to remind them of their appointments to attend memory clinics have lifted the attendance rate from 15% to 100%. Motorbike enthusiasts act as volunteer couriers, shipping around blood and other essential supplies.

These efforts are making a difference, but things could go much further. Most people do not even know they can volunteer in an NHS hospital. You might imagine, then, a Britain where millions of people are proud to be the HelpForce – a country where giving back to the NHS and other public services becomes ingrained in our social fabric, where you can expect companionship and support through your entire time in the health system and where communities support nurses and doctors.

It is an attractive proposition. David Cameron, the former prime minister, meant well when he launched his Big Society initiative in 2010. Allowing people to organise and provided for their communities would, he argued, represent “the biggest, most dramatic redistribution of power from elites in Whitehall to the man and woman on the street”. Overcentralisation and bureaucracy had, he said, turned too many public sector workers into the “disillusioned, weary puppets of government targets”.

It is an ambition and a criticism that remain valid but Mr Cameron was, in most respects, the worst person to launch it. Coming hard on the heels of the government’s austerity programme, it looked to some like an attempt to get public services delivered on the cheap. And, perhaps more importantly, the key to building a bigger voluntary contribution should be from the ground up, not from the top of government down.

That entire experiment should not, however, be a source of discouragement. As the experience of HelpForce demonstrates, people want to volunteer and find their involvement fulfilling. Figures from the National Council for Voluntary Organisations show that 35% of men and 39% of women do formal voluntary work at least once a year. More than a fifth of both sexes volunteer once a month or more. There is also a huge untapped resource of people who do not currently volunteer but would like to do so.

There is an optimistic vision here of voluntary action, working in tandem with state-provided public services, to provide the care that our ageing population needs; pensioner numbers are set to increase by some 9million over the next 50 years. It is a vision that fits perfectly with the Beveridge vision of the welfare state. And it is one that should largely be embraced.

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