Is Britain a useless poodle?
International Herald Tribune
18th December 1997
Has Britain's parroting of US foreign policy so diminished its standing as an independent force in world affairs as to make it more of a diplomatic encumbrance than an asset? A strong Britain, acting independently of the US, could have pre-empted Russia as mediator in the Iraq crisis and thereby forestalled Russian resurgence as a power in the middle east. Instead, Britain was dismissed by the Iraqi foreign minister as an American "stooge."
Two generations ago Britain was dominant in the region. It governed Palestine; it exercised suzerainty over the Suez Canal and Egypt; it created Iraq and Jordan out of backward Hashemite sheikhdoms; it stood behind the Anglo-Iranian oil concession. Today, Britain dare not displease the US by intervening in the Israeli-Palestinian dispute. It does not even publicly support Shell and BP for Caspian oil pipeline contracts in the way France backs Total.
Britain takes justifiable pride in its behind-the-scenes diplomacy. In the latest confrontation, it has helped to prevent Russia and France from abandoning the coalition. It urged Bill Clinton to take a softer line on sanctions and to tone down his demonising of Saddam. In the Gulf war, and as peacekeeper for the UN and Nato in Bosnia, it has been a valiant ally. But in almost every security council vote, Britain backs the US-paraphrasing the US position in more elaborate language. The reason for this abdication of independence is well known: the Falklands war of 1982. Withdrawal of the British task-force was averted only when Caspar Weinberger opened the floodgates of US supplies and provided access to US intelligence. The recapture of the Falklands saved Margaret Thatcher's government, and her gratitude was boundless. Since then Britain has endorsed every twist in American policy, even when it trespassed on British interests.
France is in some ways a more useful diplomatic asset. France's credibility as mediator, and its support of the US in the security council when it so chooses, carries more weight than a rubber stamp. Canada has also enhanced its credibility as an ally by its outspoken opposition to US policy towards Cuba. Britain's clinging to the "special relationship" reduces its foreign policy to that of a satellite. It also reinforces French-German determination to exclude Britain from monetary decision-making.
NHS: a mission to disappoint
Social Market Foundation update
Winter 1998
When Britain marks the 50th anniversary of the NHS next year it will be with a sense of trepidation: according to a recent survey by MORI, four out of five people fear for the future of the NHS. More than half think that ambulance services, out-patients clinics and in-hospital stays will have to be paid for privately by 2007.
In a sense this represents a triumph of the NHS. It was founded with a mission to disappoint; rationing health care to individuals so that vital services might be available to all in times of need. It has been a story of managing expectations as it has battled to treat more patients making higher demands with constantly limited finance.
But expectations are changing. The equality of sacrifice, self-restraint and acceptance of professional judgement on which the NHS has relied are giving way to more critical and assertive attitudes.
In 1948 queuing for health care was perfectly acceptable. In 1998 we have grown accustomed to choice, quality and customer service. The NHS's original strength-that it used wartime methods to conquer illness during peacetime-has become its greatest weakness. The result is an "expectations gap" between the range and quality of health services which people say they want and what they believe the NHS will be capable of delivering in the future.
More than three quarters of Britons think that the NHS is underfunded at a time when the financial demands on it are increasing. In spending 6 per cent of its national income on publicly-funded health care, Britain is unexceptional by OECD standards. It is the lack of income from private sources which sets Britain apart. Only 15 per cent of the total health care budget in Britain is raised privately; the OECD average is closer to 25 per cent.
Not only is this difference worth at least ?4 billion annually, it also reflects a structure of health care delivery which denies many people the opportunity of translating rising incomes into increasing levels of personal health care consumption. One answer is to simply raise taxes so that the government can spend more on health. In opinion polls, most people say that they want this. But most political parties do not support such tax-and-spend policies. So without more tax money, the choice is rationing or more non-state funding. The alternative is to introduce more mixed funding into Britain's health care system through a fee-for-service system, as we have done with optical and dental services. We could introduce a primary care annual subscription of, say, ?100 per household.
This is little more than most British homes pay for a television licence-to fund that other great national institution, the BBC. Even if low-income households were exempted, this scheme would raise ?1.5 billion. Would such a scheme deter people from visiting their family doctors? Nearly two thirds of people say that they visit their GPs more often than they need to because the service is free, while 70 per cent said that they would consult a doctor no less often if they were charged ?5 a visit.
Politicians are wary of moving in this direction. But people want a health system which reflects the way they live their lives today, not a family heirloom.
Why Americans are fat
The Weekly Standard
2nd February 1998
michael fumento has written an essay on why Americans are such fatties. One section that weighed on my mind is called "Attack of the Giant Killer Food," in which he traces the growth of common US edibles. Ye olde McDonald's hamburger, for instance, started out at 3.6 ounces; then came the Quarter Pounder at 6 ounces; and now we have the Arch Deluxe at 9. There is even a Double Big Mac that tops a half-pound. Other fast food chains offer burritos weighing more than three pounds-a violation of the ancient maxim: "Never eat anything larger than your own head."
Giantism is the great American curse, afflicting everything from architecture to government. But Fumento's data struck me with particular force because a new grocery store just opened in my neighbourhood-one of those warehouse-sized "club" stores, where a customer buys a membership for the right to get foodstuffs at low prices. As it happens, I love grocery stores; or, more properly, supermarkets. I love their clean, wide, airy aisles, flanked with glittering rows of peanut butter, pickles and potato chips.
I love even the name, brimming with JFK-era vim and vigour: not just supermarkets, but markets that are super. They never fail to impart, for me, a patriotic glow. I recall a college friend who, in the depths of the cold war, married a Hungarian woman and brought her to live in California. On the first night he took her to a Safeway. She was struck dumb, and then burst into tears-happy tears. Here, in a quarter acre of retail space, was more toilet paper than in the whole of Budapest. Until that moment my friend had been a socialist-he ended up voting for Reagan.
These warehouses are different. The first thing you notice about the club store is that almost everything on sale is larger than your own head. But thanks to economies of scale the club reconciles two seemingly irreconcilable American impulses: the Puritan desire to save a buck and the Sybaritic compulsion to consume in huge quantities. This is a capitalist triumph, I guess-but at what cost? The presentation of products was one of the glories of the supermarket. But here the goods are shoved on to austere steel racks, the ratchets and bolts exposed, conveying a sense of no-frills bargain-hunting. Pallets of anti-freeze teeter next to cartons of beer nuts. After you pay, you pack your own purchases-just as Pilgrims would have. And then you lug them out yourself to the Land Rover, which takes you home, where you congratulate yourself on your restraint and temperance, as you tear open a three-pound bag of potato chips.
