IT has been some years since The Sun newspaper entertained us all with its cut-out-and-keep guides on 'how to spot a lefty'. From memory, there were a couple of hot button issues on which however hard said lefties tried to look 'normal' they would explode in righteous rage.
One, I think, was the making of lascivious remarks about women and the other was any favourable mention of British counter-insurgency operations in Northern Ireland.
Thus to unmask the 'stealth lefty', all that was needed was a quick blast of 'cor, take a look at that' (or similar) or an appreciative reference to our brave boys across the water.
In the last few days, I have come across some prize examples of what may be called the 'hippy right'. This label (possibly invented by me) distinguishes them from the hippy left of fond memory, although in truth they overlap a fair bit.
Day to day, the hippy right-ist can pass as a fairly mainstream believer in free-market economics. But there are tried and trusted ways of enticing him to give himself away.
One is to praise central banks. Another is to speak favourably of tax collection. Fundamentally (very fundamentally) the hippy right sees both central banking and taxation as barely legitimate activities, carried out by 'the man', if not actually 'the pigs'. In the Rosseau-esque fantasy world of the hippy right, 'the asset' (money, land, shares) exists happily in a state of nature and then along come State officials to 'distort' it with taxation and regulation.
This is, of course, a million miles away from traditional conservatism. We did not, wrote Lord Hailsham, 'concede that the curse of Adam was so easily removed by Adam Smith'.
No, quite.
1) Fighters or quitters?
HERE'S a thought experiment. It is June 1970 and Labour has just lost office after a General Election. So far, so historically accurate. Now let's depart from the facts.
The party leader, Harold Wilson, resigns, the Foreign Secretary Michael Stewart contests the leadership, loses and heads off to run a charity in America, the Home Secretary James Callaghan stands aside from front-line politics for personal reasons, Defence Secretary Denis Healey returns to the back benches and says he will not stand for Parliament again and the respected Chancellor Roy Jenkins is pretty much told he will not be wanted on the Opposition front bench. Instead, he is despatched with the good wishes of the Tory premier Edward Heath to his native Wales to combat the appeal of the nationalist party Plaid Cymru.
The Opposition team features, as leader, the former fuel and power minister Roy Mason, as shadow home secretary the former Employment Secretary Barbara Castle, as shadow chancellor the former Education Secretary Edward Short and as shadow defence secretary the former Scottish Secretary Willie Ross.
That is pretty much a direct read-cross from what has happened to Labour's top front-bench team since the May 2010. Of course, it didn't happen back then. With one or two exceptions, such as Richard Crossman (who left the front bench to become editor of the New Statesman), Wilson's people went into Opposition and slogged away until they were returned to office in February 1974.
Three things stand out. First, the fantasy shadow cabinet of 1970 is not actually that bad. In real life, Mason went on to become an effective Northern Ireland Secretary, Short became Leader of the House and Mrs Castle, who went on to run the monster Department of Health and Social Security, has always had a big fan club. Ross returned to office in 1974 in his old job at the Scottish Office, and did it pretty well, apparently.
Second, all that said, the clear-out would have been spectacular: Wilson, Callaghan (a future Prime Minister), Jenkins (Home Office again - his job before the Treasury - European Commission, SDP, lots of books) and Healey (future Chancellor). Yet this is precisely the scale of the change at the top of Labour.
Third, when did politicians start going off in a huff after an adverse verdict from the electorate? Wilson and Heath were the last two party leaders who went from Opposition to Number 10 to Opposition again and (in the former case) to Number 10 once more.
2) On third thoughts...
WHAT fun it is to watch the financial media commentariat try to stay one step ahead of the game regarding Mark Carney, the new Governor of the Bank of England. Once his surprise appointment was confirmed, it was the done thing to hail him as a genius. Then, for the fleet of foot, the expression of doubts became de rigueur. By May, the consensus had it that Mr Carney could not possibly live up to the crazy expectations that had been ramped up (by whom, I wonder?).
Then, as the greatest living Canadian (apart from Joni Mitchell) started work at Threadneedle Street on July 1, it was once more OK to declare him simply marvellous.
At least the old-style music press built up a star and then knocked him down once only. Not seriatim.
3) C'est cet homme encore!
AMONG the many decent pieces in this week's edition of The Spectator is one on the political comeback of Nicolas Sarkozy by Philip Delves Broughton. Once thought pretty hopeless, comparison with his successor Francois Hollande has apparently burnished Sarko's image to Napoleonic proportions.
Here's a taster. The French right has agreed to stage US-style primaries to pick their candidate for the 2017 election. 'Sarkozy regards this as completely wet. The true Gaullist doesn't earn his party leadership in debate contests with a bunch of political pygmies. Victory should look like Austerlitz, not The X Factor.'
Marvellous stuff. Your local library ought to have a copy should you be short of the Speccie's 70-shilling cover price (hope you liked the pre-decimal reference, fellas).
Thanks for reading and enjoy the weekend.
Going South: Why Britain Will Have A Third World Economy By 2014, by Larry Elliott and Dan Atkinson is published by Palgrave Macmillan
dan.atkinson@live.co.uk