David Cameron is a consummate master of the sound bite. All the more so, because he can say, straight-faced, that he is not. “[New Labour’s] biggest mistake was to arrive in office with soundbites and slogans instead of serious policies for improving people’s lives.”
Indeed. Are the Tories making the same mistake?
“When say I want ‘zero tolerance of disruptive pupils’, it is not some sound-bite – it is a call to action backed by specific measures,” says Cameron in the Mail on Sunday. But what is a good sound-bite other than a glib “call to action” backed by measures, specific only in their specificity? Cameron promises to “shake up the system” and establish “motors of aspiration for the brightest kids from the poorest homes.” Apparently, the devil is in the detail.
Those things Cameron does elaborate on are classic Tory policies. The grammar school furore is not a divorce from traditional Conservative policies at all. If anything, it’s spinning them afresh.
Cameron advocates zero-tolerance for disruptive pupils. He plans to “shake-up” and “turn around” the failing system that deals with them. By getting rid of it. In its place, “social enterprises” such as the Amelia Farm Trust in Wales or the Lighthouse Group in Bradford will be able to “do the job properly” with state funding. This is all penned straight from a very familiar Conservative song sheet.
“When say I want ‘zero tolerance of disruptive pupils’, it is not some sound-bite – it is a call to action backed by specific measures,” says Cameron in the Mail on Sunday. But what is a good sound-bite other than a glib “call to action” backed by measures, specific only in their specificity? Cameron promises to “shake up the system” and establish “motors of aspiration for the brightest kids from the poorest homes.” Apparently, the devil is in the detail.
Those things Cameron does elaborate on are classic Tory policies. The grammar school furore is not a divorce from traditional Conservative policies at all. If anything, it’s spinning them afresh.
Cameron advocates zero-tolerance for disruptive pupils. He plans to “shake-up” and “turn around” the failing system that deals with them. By getting rid of it. In its place, “social enterprises” such as the Amelia Farm Trust in Wales or the Lighthouse Group in Bradford will be able to “do the job properly” with state funding. This is all penned straight from a very familiar Conservative song sheet.
The grammar school's debate is not the Tory's "clause IV moment" - as Cameron himself admits. Resignations and protests will only strenghten Cameron's hand, however, for they show that he is in command of a reformed and reforming party. While that frothy sense of change carries the media along, however, the substance stays the same.
What makes Cameron different is that rather than define his conservative principles in the cast-iron terms that Thatcher did, he is defining them by what they’re not and by the society he wants to exist around them. He’s painting a picture of the mould rather than the statue, and so far it seems to work. Rather than shout about what the state can’t do, Cameron’s shouting about what others can.
Killing off the safety-net of the state and fostering a creative “social enterprise” are, for Cameron, two sides of the same Tory coin. In place of the state, not Thatcher’s anti-society of families and individuals alone, but a flourishing polity of “voluntary organisations led by parents, charities, social enterprises, churches and private schools.”
This philanthropic Thatcherism is a clever ruse: It’s a deft parry against the tarnish of the ‘nasty party’ and recasts the agenda not as budget-cutting and safety-net slashing, but as civic pride and charitable enterprise. And it cuts to the core of New Labour’s failure as a target-setting behemoth.
The problem, of course, is that philanthropic Thatcherism is hardly the business of government. It’s stargazy madness to suggest that social enterprise and charity will flourish to replace the state. Taking away welfare safety nets is classic Thatcherism. It’s pure artifice and spin to suggest otherwise.
Who will regulate these outreach projects? Who will ensure parity of care from area to area? How could you possibly ensure fairness? These are questions which neither the electorate nor Cameron want or need to answer. For now, the sound-bites sound good, and until the Tory’s win power, there won’t be any need to test their substance.
What makes Cameron different is that rather than define his conservative principles in the cast-iron terms that Thatcher did, he is defining them by what they’re not and by the society he wants to exist around them. He’s painting a picture of the mould rather than the statue, and so far it seems to work. Rather than shout about what the state can’t do, Cameron’s shouting about what others can.
Killing off the safety-net of the state and fostering a creative “social enterprise” are, for Cameron, two sides of the same Tory coin. In place of the state, not Thatcher’s anti-society of families and individuals alone, but a flourishing polity of “voluntary organisations led by parents, charities, social enterprises, churches and private schools.”
This philanthropic Thatcherism is a clever ruse: It’s a deft parry against the tarnish of the ‘nasty party’ and recasts the agenda not as budget-cutting and safety-net slashing, but as civic pride and charitable enterprise. And it cuts to the core of New Labour’s failure as a target-setting behemoth.
The problem, of course, is that philanthropic Thatcherism is hardly the business of government. It’s stargazy madness to suggest that social enterprise and charity will flourish to replace the state. Taking away welfare safety nets is classic Thatcherism. It’s pure artifice and spin to suggest otherwise.
Who will regulate these outreach projects? Who will ensure parity of care from area to area? How could you possibly ensure fairness? These are questions which neither the electorate nor Cameron want or need to answer. For now, the sound-bites sound good, and until the Tory’s win power, there won’t be any need to test their substance.
