May 2015 UK General Election Campaign.

[Admiral Yi]

Good line frunk. 

[Richard Hakluyt]

The Tories will introduce a law preventing them from raising income tax, NI or VAT if they are elected :

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/election-2015-32506490

In a generally asinine election campaign they have now plumbed new depths of stupidity.

Why does that need a law? Just promise to not raise taxes.

And if you make a law like that, what keeps you from getting rid of it when it's no longer convenient?

Or am I missing something?

It will take time to repeal such a law and if they did repeal it no doubt they would look very foolish.

It is just so dumb though. The world economy is living through uncertain times, who knows what may happen in the next five years? I believe them when they say that they do not wish to increase those taxes but they are renouncing a large part of the economic toolbox by being so inflexible.

[crazy canuck]

The Tories will introduce a law preventing them from raising income tax, NI or VAT if they are elected :

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/election-2015-32506490

In a generally asinine election campaign they have now plumbed new depths of stupidity.

Next they will be promising fixed election dates and all will be lost

[Sheilbh]

The Tories will introduce a law preventing them from raising income tax, NI or VAT if they are elected :

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/election-2015-32506490

In a generally asinine election campaign they have now plumbed new depths of stupidity.

I know it shouldn't surprise me but I am astounded at the idiocy of this Tory party over this sort of thing. So far they've proposed this and they tried to legislate in the last Parliament to force the next Parliament to hold an EU referendum. And this is the Conservative Party

It is funny how in developed democracies we are starting to get the worst of both worlds: The politicians are bred and groomed for this job, so their practical experience in, well, whatever, is questionable (amateur politicians who have their business interests/aristocratic privileges on the side would at least be coming from the real world), yet they manage to be utterly pathetic in their chosen life calling as well, so its not like you gain anything by having these guys.

Interesting examples (And incidentally I think Cameron and Osborne could both claim one or the other).

I think we take this too far though. I think there's a lot of truth to this piece:

Politicians deserve a better electorate
Michael White
If voters wake up on 8 May furious with the election result, they only have themselves to blame
Thursday 23 April 2015 14.20 BST Last modified on Thursday 23 April 2015 14.21 BST

We know that voters everywhere worry about the quality, commitment and integrity of their politicians. We know because so many of them complain to pollsters when they get the chance. I wouldn't be surprised if millions of them don't spend a full minute every day, perhaps more during an election campaign, wondering what should be done to improve this sorry state of affairs.

But do politicians ever worry about the quality, commitment and integrity of the electorate? You bet they do. But, as Ed Miliband said when Nigel Farage attacked the BBC's studio audience last week: "It's never a good idea to attack the audience." So most of the time they keep quiet about voters' dirty habits except for designated scapegoats on the fringes of the spectrum, benefit claimants, investment bankers and other parasites.

An election campaign is never a good moment to tell folk to stop smoking either, to swallow less booze or pizza and do more exercise. That would help the hard-pressed NHS budget more than most promised "reforms". But in a society strong on individualistic entitlement and weak on civic virtue, would-be leaders prefer to pander to voters with manifesto offers of more nurses and childcare and 24/7 running hot and cold GPs, but no higher taxes – except for other people.

Voters don't believe it, many barely seem to listen. Click-driven media coverage shrinks, desperate politicians become more shrill and superficial – it is a vicious circle.

Result: this is proving a thoroughly unsatisfactory election and voters will wake up on 8 May furious with the mess they discover the politicians have probably made of getting a sensible result. However, just this once in the cycle, the blame for inconclusive uncertainty will be their own. The old adage that "we get the politicians we deserve" contains a germ of truth. The current crop is underwhelming, but what did you or I – media abuse must discourage all sorts of decent people from entering public life – do to deserve better?

Back in 1950 when poorer working men and middle-aged women could still remember when they didn't have a vote – full adult franchise reached Britain in 1929 – the election turnout was 83.9%. Next month, despite the tightness of the race, we will be grateful for 65% (59.4% in the Tony Blair shoo-in of 2001). In the 18-24 age group the turnout may be 50% and students will be strongly represented among the 6.5 million estimated to be unregistered. Yet some idiots (Miliband is one) want to make matters worse by giving 16-year-olds the privilege of not voting either.

Why and how have we (and other advanced liberal democracies) slipped into this condition? Many reasons, among them the decline of faith in ideology – Thatcherite as well as socialist – that generated hope and zeal. The decline of church and industrial trade union, rising expectation fuelled by consumerism and television but doomed to disappointment, even for the rich. Factored in too must be a loss of confidence in an uncertain future as Britain's extraordinary place in the world shrinks and Asia returns to centre stage. It is not David Cameron's fault that China's communists have abandoned communism, though it is his job to address the adverse consequences for our economy.

Yes, disappointing politicians are part of the story too. Yet both Margaret Thatcher and Blair were formidable, triple-winning leaders who gave post-imperial Britain a significant world voice. Their achievements were mixed (whose aren't?) but Thatcher has since been idolised as a means of denigrating her successors and Blair condemned by the left ( always gagging for a good betrayal) and the tax-shy oligarch press.

But it suits the political and media classes to attack each other while keeping stumm about the third side of the political equation that both seek to sway unfettered by the other: the voters. Millions are wonderful, of course, they watch those arid TV debates and (it is reported) look up "austerity" on Wikipedia. They follow events and, rain or shine, they will vote, especially the old. Hey kids, have you ever wondered why you have tuition fees and we have free bus passes?

But millions more, not just the poor and demoralised, will forget, shrug or even boast "I never vote" before turning back to something that seems more important: football, golf, Spotify, Britain's Got Talent. They don't bother to engage, let alone to make the connections between what happens to them and the difficult policy choices that bring it about, good or bad.

In Greece, voters mandate Syriza to end the cuts but stay in the euro; in Scotland, they do the same with sterling; in England, they want pizza and the NHS. Or they opt for panacea parties – from the Greens to Ukip via assorted nationalists – that make them feel better, but whose numbers don't stack up. George Osborne is a model of fiscal rectitude by comparison. Voting Ukip is the political equivalent of a tattoo imprudently extended beyond the wrist: a form of self–harm to be regretted in due course. And after nationalism as a panacea, what next? Theocracy?

It can be argued that happy is the country whose secular politics are boringly prosaic (they're not boring in Syria any more) and whose leaders are cheerfully despised, not feared or capable of murder, sackable when they inevitably fail. All true enough, but we live in dangerous global times and, as George Bernard Shaw had one of his characters say 100 years ago: "Do not believe the laws of God were suspended for England because you were born here."

Optimism is always attractive and most of us still have much to be optimistic about in a rich and safe country, not yet hideously unequal, one where politics as a process for mediating difficult issues does not kill or imprison. This flighty and illiberal hour may pass. But we may also come to regret our insular complacency when something nasty and (not really) unexpected happens. If that happens we will need politicians to demand sacrifices, not just make offers.

"Blood, toil, tears and sweat", as Churchill demanded of a quietly heroic generation in 1940, in return for a welfare state which Attlee later delivered. Their legacy – and the enduring tension within it between state and private action – has left most of us richer and healthier than the wildest utopian could have imagined then. But has it made us wiser or even grateful? Shrinking civic engagement in the 2015 campaign suggests not.

I mean look at the current MPs. Many of them were newly elected in 2010 after widespread revulsion at the expenses swindle. They decided that they need to be good local MPs because of that, they were a new broom after all. And many of them have followed through - they're really very committed and do come from a range of professional (if not ethnic, socio-economic or educational) backgrounds. They also decided they need to be independent so we've had the most rebellious Parliament in modern history - a trend that's been going for about a decade, while everyone forgets that in the good old days of the 50s you'd be amazed if 5% of MPs rebelled over the course of a Parliament. Is there any acknowledgement, or even public awareness of this? Or even of most local MPs? In general, no. There are a few who've built up real local followings - Carswell and Halfon spring to mind. But look at Sarah Wollaston a former GP, chosen as Tory candidate in an open primary, who's rebelled numerous times and by all accounts been a solid backbench MP. Chances are she'll be voted out.

If we're too lazy to acknowledge when they're not all the same, maybe we just deserve all the same.

They are professionals in getting elected, not in running a country.

I'm not really sure that's right though. For a start most of the 'professional' political background in this country comes from the executive branch. Miliband and Cameron both served in the Treasury for example not as an aide to an MP, but helping the Chancellor run the economy. David Cameron was there when we were forced out of ERM, Miliband was one of Brown's policy wonks, Nick Clegg was an assistant to the, appointed, British European Commissioner for Trade in the 90s. They're then generally parachuted into a safe seat (and I can imagine Clegg eventually parachuted into Brussells ). They've never had to work a day in their lives to get elected.

But also it looks like we're on course for a second election in a row which all parties contrive to lose. The one defence of our unfair voting system is that it produces strong, stable, majority government. Except the circuits broken. It's even grimmer if these guys are professionals at getting elected.

Though if Miliband wins he'll be the first PM since Thatcher to win an election having previously been a Cabinet Minister and his Cabinet will be the first with that sort of experience. That sort of 1970s Ministerial ping-pong isn't something I've ever experienced given 18 years of Tory rule followed by 13 years of New Labour.

Next they will be promising fixed election dates and all will be lost

Again, unbelievable constitutional idiocy from the Conservative Party.

The (Not So) Fixed-term Parliaments Act

Catherine Haddon
14 April 2015
As the SNP pointed out last week, the Fixed-term Parliaments Act could have major implications for British politics. As Dr Catherine Haddon explains, those implications remain little understood – particularly given ambiguities in the Act which could raise big constitutional questions at just the wrong moment.

Parliament and the political process
On 24 March, the SNP's Alex Salmond told New Statesman that the Fixed-term Parliaments Act (FTPA) could give his party great power in the next Parliament, pointing out that "nobody seems to have read" this 2011 law. Whether his first point is correct will, of course, depend on how many seats his party wins; but on the second point, he's on to something. For as we enter a first full Parliament under this new piece of law, only two things are absolutely clear: that the Act substantially changes the rules of politics; and that nobody can yet tell exactly how these new rules will change the game.

For many decades, prime ministers have used Royal Prerogative to call an election at a time of their choosing; and the collapse of an administration has led promptly to a general election. But the FTPA changes some of the basic principles of how governments can be defeated in Parliament, and how a change of government occurs if that happens. As we face the likelihood of another hung parliament, it's becoming clear that crucial aspects of the Act have not been thought through and may raise big constitutional questions in the midst of a major political drama.

Under the FTPA, Parliament's fixed five-year term can only be truncated in two ways. First, if more than two thirds of the House of Commons vote to call an election – and that means 434 of the 650 MPs, not just two thirds of those in the chamber. The second is more complicated. If a motion of no confidence is passed or there is a failed vote of confidence, there is a 14-day period in which to pass an act of confidence in a new government. If no such vote is passed, a new election must be held, probably a mere 17 working days later.

So far, so clear. But from there we start to get into uncharted territory on two fronts. One is that some of the crucial mechanisms are not set out; the other is how the operation of the Act could affect political dynamics and party bargaining.

Let's start with the mechanisms. The 14-day period only begins if the government loses a vote of confidence; and under the Act, this has been defined narrowly to exclude budgets and Queen's Speeches – two key votes that have long been considered an effective vote of confidence. The Commons must now pass a motion using very specific wording to trigger FTPA.

A government that lost a Queen's Speech vote could forestall that vote of confidence by resigning and recommending that the Queen offer the PM's role to the Opposition – in which case a new government could be formed, and attempt to govern for the remainder of the five-year term.

There is an alternative: in the past, governments which have lost major votes have sometimes used the procedures of the House to delay a vote of confidence. In 1977, this allowed Labour to forge a new pact with the Liberals, regaining a majority and continuing in government. However, following a Queen's Speech defeat this would be highly questionable, raising big questions of legitimacy. Constitutional authorities, and the parties, have different opinions on whether a PM should resign after losing a Queen's Speech vote.

Let's assume the government loses a vote of confidence, triggering the 14-day grace period. Here we hit a big ambiguity at the heart of the legislation: who governs during the next 14 days? Previously, an incumbent Prime Minister losing a vote of confidence would either resign immediately, handing power to a successor; or stay in as a sort of caretaker government while a second election was held – James Callaghan did the latter when we last saw a defeat on confidence in 1979. However, the 14-day clock only stops when a new government is approved by the House – and this requires a new government to already be in place: the wording specifically says that the motion must be "confidence in Her Majesty's Government". And at the point when the previous government has lost a vote of confidence, it may not be obvious that their opponents could themselves win one. So must the outgoing PM immediately resign and pass the reins to the leader of the Opposition, even if their chances of assembling a parliamentary majority look slender? Or should they hang on and await the outcome of negotiations, despite having lost a vote of confidence? Both solutions would be ugly and controversial.

A PM put in this position might be tempted to make it difficult for their rival to hold a new vote of confidence, and thus to form a government. And such blocking tactics would not be without precedent: in 2008, Canadian premier Stephen Harper secured a prorogation (suspension) of Parliament in order to forestall a vote of confidence. However, prorogation would require the Sovereign to exercise this remaining Royal Prerogative in support of a government which had clearly lost confidence. This drags the Queen into political manoeuvring in a way that Buckingham Palace has been keen to avoid.

Assuming our hard-pressed PM dismisses this option, they would have one further way out. Because under our constitution the powers of government are vested in the Prime Minister, they could simply hand over the leadership to a party colleague – creating a new government that could have another go at winning a vote of confidence. This would technically meet the Act's requirements; and our political history is full of different PMs of the same party forming new governments of slightly different composition. Ultimately, it would be up to the House to decide by voting their confidence. But again, the Sovereign would be put in a difficult position, as the Queen would have to appoint the new PM before they could put forward a new confidence motion.

Of course, all of this depends on whether party leaders use the Act in these ways. The Act has been understood as a means to allow for a new government to be formed and replace the incumbent, and there would be massive political pressures in anyone being seen to abuse its provisions. If used as intended, it would bring in a government led by the former Opposition. Yet even this would be challenging in our political culture: how many changes of government could we see without an election?

If the incumbent government does resign, FTPA could mean, to take one possible scenario, a Tory minority government is replaced by a Labour-led administration with the ambition and potential to govern right through till 2020. And this second government could itself be displaced without an election if a further vote of no confidence is won. There is nothing in the Act that restricts the number of times we go through the merry-go-round of a government falling and a further government being formed.

This would mean successive administrations without recourse to the polls, and much turmoil in government. Our political culture would find this a shock, as would the money markets. Since the Second World War the UK has had plenty of examples of the governing party changing the Prime Minister whilst in power, but we're not used to the party of government changing without the need for a general election. In the 18th and 19th century it was more common for governments to fall and a new party or combination of parties take over; but most sought a new mandate – if only to improve their power in Parliament. So in this situation the pressure for a new election would be massive, and an opposition party might decide not to form a government in the 14 days – precipitating a new election.

The FTPA might, of course, be repealed by the next government. But here there are also difficulties. If the big parties do indeed lack a majority, would the smaller parties – who will not benefit from the substantial political advantage of choosing when to call an election – want to hand back that power? Labour and the Conservative could unite to force the change through. But, the FTPA took away a Royal Prerogative, continuing a centuries-long flow of powers from the monarch to the legislature. Reversing this flow, or asking Parliament to put that power in the executive's hands, might be possible in legal terms, yet would be a tricky argument to make. It is not something the UK's constitution has had to attempt. It might be easier to amend the current Act, moving to a simple majority, rather than the two-thirds, in order to call an early election.

Those planning for any post-election hung parliament negotiations will have to think hard about the FTPA's significance. Gavin Kelly, a former Number 10 Deputy Chief of Staff, called it a "game-changer" at a recent Institute for Government event. Whilst MPs might be less enamoured with the idea of another coalition, he argued that minority governments are now rather more risky – for if they fell after a year or so, the prospect would not necessarily be of another election, but of handing power straight to their main rivals. This, said Kelly, creates a new incentive for people to build solid coalitions.

For smaller parties, too, the levers and risks look different now. Before FTPA, if the Lib Dems or SNP brought down a minority government, they'd have to explain themselves to the voters in an election; nowadays, they might end up kingmakers to a new government of a different hue, postponing that difficult conversation until they have a chance to deliver something for their supporters. Alex Salmond is already attempting such risky cat and mouse games.

Governments can and do navigate minority quite successfully, and for some it is preferable to coalition. Any minority government only dies by the ability of the other parties to form an opposition majority – something that's not as easy as it sounds. But the FTPA still has big implications for our parliamentarians and party leaderships; and we'll only learn their exact nature as the Act is tested in anger. The Fixed-term Parliaments Act was introduced to level the political playing field and strengthen the chances that the Conservative-Lib Dem coalition would survive for a full term. But its significance for British politics could go much, much further than that.

Having said that I can see why, from the perspective of forming a coalition, it may have been necessary.

[Admiral Yi]

I'm not really sure that's right though. For a start most of the 'professional' political background in this country comes from the executive branch. Miliband and Cameron both served in the Treasury for example not as an aide to an MP, but helping the Chancellor run the economy. David Cameron was there when we were forced out of ERM, Miliband was one of Brown's policy wonks, Nick Clegg was an assistant to the, appointed, British European Commissioner for Trade in the 90s. They're then generally parachuted into a safe seat (and I can imagine Clegg eventually parachuted into Brussells ). They've never had to work a day in their lives to get elected.

How do you know what they did on a day to day basis?  I would think the Treasury has more than enough career civil servants to "run the economy," and that the duties of a junior career politician would lean more towards figuring out what would policies would make the electorate the happiest and avoiding blowups that will make his party look bad.

As an aside, you sure as hell make some long posts.

[Monoriu]

But millions more, not just the poor and demoralised, will forget, shrug or even boast "I never vote" before turning back to something that seems more important: football, golf, Spotify, Britain's Got Talent. They don't bother to engage, let alone to make the connections between what happens to them and the difficult policy choices that bring it about, good or bad.

[Sheilbh]

How do you know what they did on a day to day basis?  I would think the Treasury has more than enough career civil servants to "run the economy," and that the duties of a junior career politician would lean more towards figuring out what would policies would make the electorate the happiest and avoiding blowups that will make his party look bad.

Those are the duties of a politician at every stage of their career surely. But that's definitely part of it and given that Cameron later moved into PR probably true of him. Miliband was definitely a policy wonk - there are now numerous memoirs from within New Labour that identify him as such (as well as during the Blair-Brown feuds the 'Ambassador from Planet Fuck'), similarly his brother was head of Blair's policy unit which was meant to be a sort-of in house think tank.

Also here special advisers very often are around to try and enforce their boss's political will on the civil service. So yeah the civil servants can 'run the economy' but that will mainly mean by not changing anything. You need good political people around you to force your policies through the civil service machine - Dominic Cummings Education Special Adviser for Michael Gove who was forced out by Number 10 due to some cabinet in-fighting has a blog which is a bit overblown but really interesting in the fight to get things done: https://dominiccummings.wordpress.com/.

I've always thought that may be a version of sort-of executive checks and balances. In the US you've got divided government that creates an instinct to inertia, but the executive is very politicised so can do things. In the UK the government by definition can pass laws, but there's normally a team of 10s of political appointees in a Department with thousands of permanent civil servants.

[Admiral Yi]

Miliband was definitely a policy wonk - there are now numerous memoirs from within New Labour that identify him as such

Well that certainly settles it.

In my experience policy wonk is often a euphemism for a politician who reads a newspaper.

[Sheilbh]

Well that certainly settles it.

How else do you know how administrations worked?

At least until the papers are declassified in 30 years

But to explain there are only about 80-100 political advisers working for Ministers in government now. The PM has twenty. The rest are civil servants - including the communication staff for the most part.

In my experience policy wonk is often a euphemism for a politician who reads a newspaper.

He was helping write the budget. Generally it was him, Ed Balls and Damien McBride (a civil servant who was recruited to the Dark Side and became very dark indeed).

[Monoriu]

Well that certainly settles it.

How else do you know how administrations worked?

At least until the papers are declassified in 30 years

But to explain there are only about 80-100 political advisers working for Ministers in government now. The PM has twenty. The rest are civil servants - including the communication staff for the most part.

In my experience policy wonk is often a euphemism for a politician who reads a newspaper.

He was helping write the budget. Generally it was him, Ed Balls and Damien McBride (a civil servant who was recruited to the Dark Side and became very dark indeed).

That's a lot of political advisors.  There are about 30 political appointees in the entire HK government, including all the ministers.  The rest are all civil servants.  Here, civil servants still have to face the public, appear in front of cameras, answer questions in the legislative council etc. 

[Syt]

Ed Balls

*snicker*

[Sheilbh]

Sweden has 400 apparently. It's a model a few journos have argued we should follow, to avoid government's agendas withering on the civil service vine

[crazy canuck]

God save us from political appointees.

[Monoriu]

Sweden has 400 apparently. It's a model a few journos have argued we should follow, to avoid government's agendas withering on the civil service vine

The virtuous civil servants are there to prevent the political appointees from spending beyond their means and accumulating an unsustainable level of debt

[Sheilbh]

Sweden has 400 apparently. It's a model a few journos have argued we should follow, to avoid government's agendas withering on the civil service vine

The virtuous civil servants are there to prevent the political appointees from spending beyond their means and accumulating an unsustainable level of debt

Well in the UK that's in the hands of the politicians

The idea of more appointees is that implementation of government policy is improved.