Brexit and EU citizens: A practical note

The UK government’s announcement yesterday of its plans for EU citizens in the UK post-Brexit contained one or two nasty surprises, not least among them that EU citizens will be forced to hold some sort of documentation proving the right to stay and work in the UK after 2018 – a prima facie case of discrimination vis-a-vis UK citizens who do not – and should not – have to carry any such documentation.

Aside of the understandable outrage here, and here, that May should consider such discrimination to be ‘fair’, and that many EU citizens have already gone through a lengthy process of securing permanent residence documents only for these now to be useless, as well as that this is not a situation of fact, simply an opening ‘offer’ in the Article 50 negotiations process, one of the interesting issues around this reference is the practical logistics around documenting 3m people in the time available. Those who have gone to the trouble of securing permanent residence rights, via the infamous 85-page form, are promised a ‘streamlined’ and ‘user-friendly’ application process but there are clearly doubts about the ability of the appropriate government departments to be able to deliver on that, not least stemming from the bureaucratic delays that as few as 150,000 people experienced in applying for PR to government departments that were simply overwhelmed. Let alone 3m (+).

There is little detail on the document as to what the government means by ‘streamlined’, although there are vague (and inevitable) references to it being ‘digital’ and the days of the 85-page form seem to be numbered.

However, there are doubts about the ability of the UK to deliver on this score, too. Eurostat, the EU’s statistical office, publishes a continually-updated scorecard on the digital single market – which, of course, we are leaving – called the ‘DESI composite‘ (this is the Digital Economy and Society Index, not this one). Overall, across the five components of the index, the UK is above average – it’s actually in seventh place among the EU-28. However, one of the constituent components is ‘digital public services’, which measures a country’s ability to deliver e-Government services, including the provision of pre-filled forms and online service completion. Here, it might not be a surprise to learn, the UK is doing rather less well – not only is it below the average for the EU-28, it’s actually fallen as far as 18th place.

(As an aside, I can recall a previous government vowing that the UK would have the best superfast broadband in the EU by 2015: we don’t – on the DESI composite’s ‘Connectivity’ sub-index, we are sixth, rising above only Finland among the other nations above us on the overall list – which are Netherlands, Luxembourg, Belgium, Denmark and Sweden. We were sixth in 2015, too.)

So, there are some quite deep-rooted capacity issues which need to be resolved. We can well imagine that these ought to have been resolved before the UK government could even make such an offer – since it is not doing so from a position of strength – and certainly by the time any agreement may be implemented. Perhaps the UK government might look to other EU governments for advice on how to deliver the sort of ‘streamlined’ digital public service that would be required to document 3m EU nationals in the way this proposal envisages – perhaps from other countries which are higher up the DESI list than the UK. Perhaps we might ask Poland, for example.

Advertisements

Book review: Nutshell

It is quickly apparent that Nutshell, Ian McEwan’s 17th novel, is a re-working of the tale of Hamlet, Shakespeare’s tragedy about usurpation and revenge, extending from plot to characters to themes – but with the critical twist that the Prince of Denmark is replaced here by an unborn child, critically observing events from inside the womb. Here, the narrator, un-named and of non-determined gender, is indeed ‘bound in a nutshell’ and yet ‘king of infinite space’. As such, the child – with thought processes, critical faculties and tastes which are fully developed, informed trough the consumption and habits of Trudy, the mother – is able to observe and comment on the surrounding universe. Yet, in contrast to Hamlet, whose flaw of inaction underpins his personal tragedy, the baby is able to seek to be active and influential in the world, including via well-timed kicks and sometimes quite shocking extensions of the narrative.

McEwan’s conceit is quite remarkable – imagine the (eventual) frustrations of a baby with fully developed thought processes but unaware in the womb that s/he is unable to speak – and in our unborn narrator we have another in the author’s long line of memorable characters. The prose, as we might expect, flows freely and apparently effortlessly; the handling of plot and theme is confident and assured; and there is wit and humour in the telling as well as in the conceit. The narration itself is informed, eloquent and ultimately reliable – indeed, how could it be anything other?

Excess alcohol consumption – in Hamlet’s view, the cause of the ruination of the nation – is worked in by the continual appearance and consumption of bottles of wine (although, amusingly, the plot hinges on a juice bar’s smoothie); the portentousness of the moments in which people’s futures are shaped and directed by the sometimes hasty decisions they make is, again – this being a regular theme in McEwan’s books – stunningly realised; and the resolution is thoughtfully and aptly described.

Of course, something is indeed rotten in the state of Denmark – not, in this context, in the womb of the mother but in the dilapidated state of the decaying, crumbling house in the midst of the heat of a London summer in which she lives and which is visually well-captured by McEwan. The metaphor is clear – and yet the platform it provides for well-chosen observations about the state of the world around us, akin to Hamlet’s own soliloquies, is something that McEwan doesn’t effectively take up. It is not that there are currently no targets to pick – and McEwan has done so in the past: notably, global warming in Solar; and the state of international relations in the context of the ‘war on terror’ in Saturday. Here, however, the discourse on the targets he picks – chiefly, the human condition leading to it being ‘dusk in the Age of Reason’; the struggle to escape poverty; identity politics – is lazy, occasionally somewhat illiberal and actually rather peevish. It’s not the result of having an unborn child as narrator – this is a middle-class sophisticate, advanced and articulate in thought. Perhaps it is the essential brevity of the exposition – this is a short novel and these are indeed mere soliloquies – that make it seem so. Perhaps he thinks he’s done it all before. But McEwan is of course capable of better than that; and, in these times, we do need the poets (as well as the novelists) down here to write something (at all) to help prompt us into action.

Nevertheless, the central challenge – that we all ‘do something’, whatever we can, to change the fate of the world around us – is, if it is one that may even be taken up by an unborn child, one that can also be picked up by others seemingly otherwise better placed. The conveyance, perhaps implicit, of that ultimate message is McEwan’s biggest contribution in Nutshell – and it does, of course, remain a fundamentally important one.

Midsummer sun

I was hoping to see at least one end of the summer solstice in style. Not being by any means an early riser, this was always going to be this end of the day rather than the other. But, unfortunately, the damp mists of early evening around the bay have given way to a blanket of grey cloud without so much of a hint of a dying ray of light – though, conversely, this morning’s sunrise was, apparently, rather good.

So, here’s one from last night’s sunset, instead: the sun not quite sinking into the sea – a smudge of cloud on the horizon preventing that – and actually taken a good hour after sunset (timed at 22:31) – but with the Monach Islands showing rather well as a series of low-lying lumps on the horizon:

IMG_6191 (Custom)

So, at more or less midsummer, the sun was setting at round about 320 degrees – that’s past north-west and well on the road to north-west by north (no – not that one: Ed) on the 32-point compass. And quite a change from midwinter, when the compass point at sunset was more or less 230 degrees and getting on for south-west: almost exactly a quarter swing in the point of sunset by virtue of the angle of the earth’s tilt.

Not enough light to read a book outside at midsummer (and somewhat too cool, regardless of the heatwave which is gently cooking the southern half of England), but with plenty of light in the northern sky. Here’s the long view about an hour later – half past midnight (and towards the end of an hour-long power cut here on South Uist: somewhat frustrating for those of us on Economy 10 tariffs when the power comes back on just as the cheap hours disappear…). Here, we’re looking broadly north-east (NE is actually a bit to the right of centre) and from where, if my guesswork is right, the sun would have been rising a few minutes less than three hours later (at 04:31):

IMG_6196 (Custom)

Good luck and have a great gig to all those heading to Pilton this weekend – or, alternatively, to Eriskay On The Rocks!

Islands (Scotland) Bill published

Just catching up with the news that the Scottish Government published its Islands Bill last Friday. This was probably a good day to bury bad news, given that much of the political establishment was focused elsewhere at the time, although there is no suggestion that the Islands Bill is is bad news. But the timing of its publication was awful.

The Bill is expressly the governmental response to the Our Islands Our Future campaign launched by the island councils elected by Shetland, Orkneys and Western Isles voters to establish a clearer constitutional recognition of the needs and status of island areas. The Bill – which builds on top of a consultation exercise undertaken in the last quarter of 2015 – will need to be carefully scrutinised as regards the extent to which it matches up to the aims of Our Islands Our Future as well as in terms of what it envisages actually happening in practice. At the headline level, it seeks to do the following:

– a duty on Scottish Ministers to publish a ‘National Islands Plan’ with a view to improving outcomes for island communities, alongside an annually-published Progress Report

– a duty on Scottish Ministers expressly to have regard to island communities in exercising their functions, including via an island communities impact assessment as a means of ‘island-proofing’ initiatives such that islanders are not disadvantaged as a result of their location

– protection for the Na h-Eileanan an Iar Scottish parliamentary constitutency akin to that already provided to the Shetlands and Orkneys constituencies such that the boundaries cannot be changed without primary legislation

– greater flexibility around councillor representation within island communities

– provision for all island authorities to have more control in the development of the seas around their communities via a marine licensing scheme for development activities.

Island communities continue to face major problems as regards – among many others – de-population, and the associated, but qualitatively different, problem of dealing with the needs, not least health, of an ageing society; the provision of affordable and suitable housing; and digital connectivity. Some of these issues are being taken forward, at least to some degree, such as the Scottish Government’s Digital Scotland initative, although improvements can always be made to any governmental programme both as regards provision and as regards pace.

The Islands Bill is not inherently a development-based one, but a policy and access one. Consequently, the solution to many of the development problems facing the islands – of jobs, incomes and sustainability – need to be tackled in other forums and by other initiatives, although I would have liked to see express recognition of the need to engage and work with community landlords – such as Storas Uibhist on South Uist, Benbecula and Eriskay, which has just celebrated ten years of community ownership of these islands – included formally in the Bill. Whether the Islands Bill turns out to make a difference to islanders’ lives in practice of course remains to be seen, but a legislative start has been made on creating greater voice and access for the islands to policy, and in red-circling that for the future. To the extent that this represents at least a signal of a reversal of the recent policy trend towards greater centralisation in the Scottish Government, the Bill is welcome. Practice needs to follow.

Brexit faultlines still apparent in UK politics

Like many others, I pulled an all-nighter on Friday morning to watch the election results come in – the first I’ve done for a while, the most recent plebiscites having left me running screaming from the living room well before 1am. The exit poll was, this time, remarkably accurate – and there were a number of positives to take from the election itself, including a well-run, positive Labour campaign on the back of a good manifesto that didn’t quite get the result it deserved; as well as the fruits of a successful registration/get the vote out drive among young people that has, at least anecdotally, brought up the electoral participation of the young to the point where it was actually above the average. Long may that contine (and, indeed, be extended).

And, of course, the loss of a Conservative majority in the Commons is a bonus. Firstly, the Tories really ought to have remembered the old adage that the great British public tend not to like exercise of any type, including of their franchise, and that they therefore tend to punish the parties who do make them turn out; and secondly we should note that a minority government may well lose the benefits of the Salisbury Convention, under which the Lords is duty bound not to over-rule the manifesto commitment of a successful party.

The departure of Theresa May’s two senior advisers today, two bauernopfer [Edit: now on p. 4 of the link @ 14:28) taking the rap for their boss’s disastrous personal and campaigning style, simply papers over the cracks in what is clearly a lame duck government – and may also hasten the timing of May’s own, inevitable, departure. One can only hope, though she who we may well dub ‘Teflon Theresa’, with the arrogance to deliver the same speech yesterday from Downing Street as if she had not lost – in her own terms – the election that she surely intended to deliver had she won it, may well yet turn out to be a survivor.

Meanwhile, the joining of the DUP’s ten, er, ‘socially conservative’ MPs in the business of government has, rightfully, raised plenty of comment, not least in the context of the contribution of Ruth Davidson, the Scottish Tory leader, to the number of MPs the Tories did win. Scotland now has 13 Tory MPs – something of a modern record, leaving the Tories up here as no longer the stuff of legend.

What the comment has missed so far – unless someone can point me differently* – is that the DUP is also famous for a bit more than just its hateful stance on gay rights (or its misconceived renewable heating incentive, its intransigence over which brought down Northern Ireland’s power-sharing executive earlier this year). Not only does it have a strong stance in favour of Brexit, but that it allowed itself to be used – I’m paraphasing somewhat – to channel more money into the pro-Brexit campaign last year. The source of the DUP’s funding on this was eventually, through solid journalistic endeavour, revealed as the Constitutional Research Council, an organisation that is so secretive about its research that it has – still, as at today’s date – no website on which to publish the results of the research it supports.

Any agreement between the Tories and the DUP clearly needs, as a minimum, to be publicly available, and in full, in terms of exactly what the DUP will do – and for what – as a price for keeping the Tories in power, especially if Davidson is correct in her view that there is no suggestion ‘the Conservative government would be dependent on the support of the DUP‘, whatever the nature of the ‘confidence and supply’ arrangement which underpins and rationalises the deal.

In the meantime, however, we can no longer wonder whether the results of the election imply a softer approach to Brexit, or any voluntary granting of civil rights to EU citizens in UK limbo, or even a second referendum. There is no doubt that Brexit is not under any theat: Theresa May and her new-found BFFs in the DUP will go ahead with just as hard a Brexit as if the election had not happened. There will be no softening of approach not only from the perspective of negotiating stance but because those driving the government firmly believe in the rightness of what they are doing.

We can usually point to several instances in public life that, had x not happened, y would be impossible. But it is clearly true that, had the Scottish Tories not won these 13 seats, the DUP’s ten MPs would make little difference to the Tories’ parliamentary maths. I’m not a nationalist voter, for reasons not least that the SNP in practice is not as progressive as it makes out in its literature, but it does strike (even) me that the loss of 13 SNP MPs to the Tories is a retrograde step, not a positive one. And I’m not just referring to the loss of good parliamentarians like Angus Robertson and, indeed, Alex Salmond. We will need to wait for psephologists and researchers of other types to tell us how quite so many people who voted SNP just two years ago are now prepared to vote Tory – aside of cheap ‘Tartan Tory’-type comments. It’s likely that quite a few will be independence supporters who also want to be out of the EU and who now see support for the Tories as the more worthwhile means of ensuring Brexit in the current context. Clearly, the sorts of people who swallowed Theresa May’s line about the need to strengthen her hand in the negotiations. I don’t necessarily agree that the election has killed indyref2 – but we might, however, legitimately wonder about the type of independent Scotland such voters would want to see delivered in an iScotland.

The 2017 election will no doubt turn out to have more twists before its history can be written – but the faultlines in our domestic politics that Brexit has written continue to have deep resonances. And, by the way, it’s well worth keeping in mind here that the chair of the Constitutional Research Council is a former vice-chair of the Scottish Conservative Party. I wonder if we’ll ever find out if the CRC commissioned any research prior to this election into the electoral success of the Tories in Scotland, and the DUP in Northern Ireland…

* A kind reader points out that a journalist in the Indy, and others, are researching the issue, post-election. There’s not a lot new in the report in the Indy – and I’m guessing that the Saudi trail is a red herring – but I’m glad to note that someone is on the case.

NNW twilight

North-western sunset (Custom)

The sky to the north, last night, just after 23:20 (so just beyond the golden hour, the sun having set at 20:16 and almost exactly at the formal ‘end of twilight‘ on our part of South Uist last night).

I tweeted recently a picture of the sun sinking into the sea as it set, as viewed for the first time this summer from our lounge window – and, of course, this picture is taken from the same place (though it’s a composite) and parts of it are also aimed a little further north, the slightly blurry rock in the centre foreground being located pretty much NNW from where I took the picture. Indeed, we can now track the earth as it spins around the sun, and as the continuing levels of light in the sky shift gradually from twilight in the (north-)western sky to pre-dawn in the (north-)east. As I went to bed at 1am, the sun still not due to rise formally for another couple of hours, similar smudged greys and midnight blues and soft apricots, as well as bold, striking cloud formations, had shifted into the north-east sky.

It does get dark here; even at the peak of midsummer there is about 3:40 of ‘night time’ in the hours between twilight formally ending and beginning again – but, for this month or so, you can still see some light in some part of the sky right throughout the night hours.

As a celebration of one year of living in our new place – we moved in, into a few rooms while the remainder of the renovations were still being finalised, precisely a year ago last Friday – the reminder of things coming full circle, with a new journey now getting underway, seems very well-timed.