There are days when parliament is best understood as a piece of wilfully absurd, Dadaist performance art. Normally the debate on the Queen’s speech is just that, a debate on the measures the government intends to introduce in the forthcoming year. But when the subject matter turned to the economy the chancellor chose to rewrite the rule book.
Philip Hammond hasn’t reacted well to his period in captivity during the election, and has used every subsequent opportunity to show he isn’t suffering from Stockholm syndrome. It is possible, though, that the new all-smiling, Freewheelin’ Phil is suffering from memory lapses as he gave every sign of believing that the election had yet to take place.
Rather than talking about the government’s plans for the economy, he chose to spend his time at the dispatch box telling the Commons why no one should believe a word that was in the Labour manifesto. “Their sums just don’t add up,” he said triumphantly. “You can’t trust Labour with the economy.”
Several Tory backbenchers began to look rather confused and eventually one of them passed him a note, pointing out that the electorate hadn’t trusted Labour with the economy and it might be a good idea for him to announce some plans of his own. Freewheelin’ Phil crumpled up the piece of paper and just kept going. He’d spent hours writing this speech during the election campaign and he was damned if it was going to waste.
Having rubbished all the Labour proposals that weren’t going to happen in the current parliament, he went on to talk up his record in the last one. Labour was just talking down the British economy with their insistence on bringing up austerity. Everywhere he looked, he saw a strong and robust economy.
So what if there were more foodbanks? That just showed how people were getting their appetites back. Who cared if the number of people on zero-hours contracts were at record levels? Zero-hours contracts were the new normal. Even the Maybot was on one. And as for reports that consumer credit was reaching dangerous levels, that could only be a good thing. Because borrowing was a sign of confidence, not poverty.
“We have a plan,” he continued. “A measured and reasonable plan to negotiate a Brexit deal. We won’t be afraid of taking the tough choices, of taking the hard decisions. Together we can build a brighter, global future.” All that was missing, apart from the plan itself, was the repetition of strong and stable. Put that down to Freewheelin’ Phil’s act of rebellion against the Maybot.
After he had spent the best part of 30 minutes not saying anything very much about the government’s economic policy, some Labour backbenchers felt obliged to try to tease out some detail. They were very glad that proposals to cut the winter fuel allowance and free school meals had been dropped, but they were at a bit of a loss to know what was going to happen. Perhaps it would help if they were to try him on a few direct questions.
Over the past few weeks, the chancellor had repeatedly praised the emergency services, observed Jack Dromey. Was he now prepared to lift the cap on public sector pay?
“Oh no,” laughed Freewheelin’ Phil. The previous day’s double U-turn he had instigated had only ever been intended to further weaken the Maybot. When he had said he was going to do nothing, he had really meant it. Besides, when you came to think about it, the public sector had been comparatively overpaid over the past seven years and he was just evening things up in favour of the private sector.
Brexit was similarly brushed aside. While it had added to the uncertainty, it was nothing he couldn’t fix. Britain was leaving the single market and the customs union, but would somehow retain the advantages of both. And Alice would slip through the looking glass.
To complete the sense of the surreal, Labour’s Stella Creasy spent most of the debate on the Conservative benches drumming up support from Nicky Morgan, Heidi Allen and others for her amendment to allow women from Northern Ireland free abortions in England. It was time rather better spent than Freewheelin’ Phil’s. Realising it was likely to suffer an embarrassing defeat in one of the first votes of the new term, the government caved in to Creasy’s demands. As the DUP had already proved, there is a magic money tree after all.
