The first impression that I get of George Osborne is that he is a man in a hurry – both literally and figuratively. After unforeseen traffic issues, what is meant to be a thorough half an hour interview before a talk at my college is reduced to a frantic ten minutes afterwards.
By the time Osborne and I sit down together he could be forgiven if he was sick of half-baked questions from undergraduates having just delivered a talk on many of the themes I ask him about, but to his great credit he is as lively and animated in the awkward format of a one on one interview as he is speaking to a packed auditorium.
Indeed, the genuine enthusiasm I sense is at first a
surprise: a politician widely decried for being a creature of
spin and artifice in the Blairite model is hardly supposed
to seem as genuinely excited by the things he believes in
as Osborne.
Naturally the first question I ask him is where he thinks
that both the country and the party that he has dedicated
so much of his life to are heading. A few days before our
interview Osborne said that he felt that “the Conservative
party has to confront the truth.
It needs a new leader, a new agenda, it needs to win over
supporters who have disappeared and make an appeal to
urban, metropolitan Britain that has turned its back on
the Conservatives”, and I ask him if he thinks that a kind
of socially liberal, deeply metropolitan – perhaps even
cosmopolitan – conservatism is what he sees as Britain’s
future.
“Yeah,” he replies, “I think that the Conservative Party
wins when it goes beyond its comfort zone and reaches out
to more urban, metropolitan voters, to younger voters, to
people from different ethnic minorities, and that’s what it’s
done when it’s won elections, and when it doesn’t do that it
loses elections.
“I’d give the same advice to the Labour Party which is
reach out beyond its natural base, for example win over the
support of people who run businesses and the like. I think a
good test in politics is do you understand why people don’t
vote for you, and in my experience, being a politician, if
you don’t understand why people don’t vote for you you’re
never going be in office.
“You know, you need to try and appreciate opinions on
the other side of the fence.”
I ask him if these ideas are really best expressed by
the Conservative Party, or whether what we might call
“Osbornism” might be better off in a new centrist party
– whether that’s Change UK or not – just as similar ideas
flourished in Emmanuel Macron’s new En Marche! party.
“Well, the British system is quite difficult, in the parliamentary system its quite difficult to have a new party,” he says hesitantly, “but if ever there was a time for it, it’s probably now, because both parties are moving away from the centre and creating a vacuum, but maybe that doesn’t require a new party – maybe the Liberal Democrats are showing that they can fill that space.”
“It’s still easier to try and seize control of the direction
and leadership of one of the main parties, it’s easier rather
than creating a centre-left, moderate, social democrat
party to try and get back control of the Labour leadership
from the Hard left, and change it.
“Similarly, with the Conservatives, it’s easier to get control of the Conservative leadership, and take the party back to a more liberal, cosmopolitan, pro-business position, than go with the kind of hard right, hard Brexit right. So that’s still the easier route than creating a brand-new force: Emmanuel Macron could do that in France, but in France the electoral system made it a little bit easier for him to do that, even if it is a big achievement.”
I press him on this point, and ask if there might be circumstances in which he might switch his support to such a party: his reply is surprisingly candid, for a politician.
“Well, I think I’m still going to fight for getting the
Conservative Party in the right direction, and as someone
who gave my life to Conservative politics I don’t want to
abandon that. That doesn’t mean that my newspaper which
I edit might not take a different view.
“And I have a responsibility to the readers of that news-
paper, so I would distinguish there. As I say before we
move on, and before you give up on the Conservative Party,
as someone who was one of its MPs, I would fight for its
future.” An intriguing comment at the time, these remarks
now seem like a hint at things to come: two days before the
European Elections The Evening Standard tacitly endorsed
the Liberal Democrats.
At the time, however, I didn’t have time to press him on
this before we hurtled towards Osborne’s pet project, the
Northern Powerhouse.
When I ask him why he thinks the project never took off
in quite the way it was pitched Osborne almost bristles,
and he replies sternly that: “Well I think it is taking off, I
announced it four years ago, and in that space we’ve, out of
nowhere, created elected mayors in Greater Manchester, in
Merseyside, in Teeside, and South Yorkshire.
“We’ve got really ambitious projects that didn’t exist
before for train connections between these cities, we’ve got
new science facilities going up, so lots has happened in the
last few years.
“But turning around a hundred years of economic history is hard to do, and it can’t be done overnight.
“And although I think the government aren’t giving it as
much support as they should, the local communities, the
different cities, the different towns, have really embraced
it, and are working together.
“The basic idea is not just ‘the North is great’, and I say that as someone who was an MP in the North for many years, its that the North could be stronger if the different cities of the North worked more closely together.”
This seems to be the centre of Osborne’s vision for Britain: interconnected, metropolitan, focused on building great cities where people can do great things. He seeks a Britain where high-speed trains rush across the landscape and we all become homogenised into a vision of a world which looks all too coincidentally like London. But I’m not sure that’s actual what people in the North of England want. From my own experience growing up near Preston, Osborne could politely be described as less than popular.
I ask him if, in light of electoral victories like the Copeland by-election and a brief surge of support before her campaign’s fatal crash, it is disappointing that Theresa May’s conservatism seems more popular than his. His answer is at once incisive and insightful, and I’ll readily admit that he somewhat sways me from the popular narrative.
“I’m not sure that’s true,” he says, “if you take Cheshire
where I was an MP, we lost half of the Tory seats in Cheshire
under Theresa May, and we went backwards in Lancashire
and elsewhere, so it’s true that we picked up a couple of
places like Middlesbrough, so I’m not saying it’s all in one
direction, but generally we’ve gone backwards and will
continue to go backwards until we can be that national
party.
“And by the way if we cancel projects like HS2, which is
the biggest single investment in the North of England in its
modern history, that will be a betrayal of the North, and
will be seen rightly so as that.”
Moving on again I ask Osborne how he thinks Oxford has changed since his student days. The speech he gave before the interview indicates that it may not have changed that much. In his talk he mentioned two professors I’d seen the same day who had taught him, and referenced the same silly student rumours about certain tutors recruiting for MI6 that are still passed around by furtive Magdalen freshers to this day.
“I like to think that the success of places like Oxford is
that they retain their deep roots in history, but they change
and modernise as well, and we’re in a set of buildings which
didn’t exist when I was an undergraduate here at Magdalen.
“I think there’s something precious about a culture built
up over centuries that you don’t want to jettison.
“So I’m all for Oxford changing and embracing and
expanding the people who can get places here, but don’t
throw away what I would say is the culture of excellence,
and interest, and a belief in the value of academic study for
its own right.
“I think if you lose those things that’ll be a sad end to
the story.”
Somewhat unusually for a major British politician
Osborne himself did not play a very large role in student
politics (although he was editor of The ISIS), and I ask him
if he thinks it really matters all that much.
“Well look, there’s two things: one is it’s just a fact, and
maybe it’ll change, but many of the people who start their
life out as student politicians and in the Union here will end
up being national politicians.
“You look at the cabinet today and there were people who
were Presidents of the Oxford and Cambridge Union and at
other universities debating societies and student unions,
so that’s one thing.
“Second, it can be a kind of taste of things to come, student politics, as I was saying when I was here one of the reasons I was put off politics here was because Conservative politics was very Eurosceptic, campaigning for a referendum on the Maastricht Treaty, which feels like ancient history, but of course both the individuals then, and the subject came back and dominated politics for thirty years, and I think that it was, in that way, ahead of its time, though not in a very positive way.”
It’s amusing to think that the same dramas that played
out in OUCA when Osborne was a student are those wrack-
ing the Conservative Party today, but I can’t help but think
that politics – in both its national and student guises – has
changed considerably since Osborne was at Oxford. Even
just five years ago, as I note to him, the country’s three
most prominent Tories (himself, David Cameron, and Boris
Johnson) were all members of the Bullingdon Club, an
organisation that even OUCA has now seen fit to ban its
members from joining.
He laughs at the mention of the Bullingdon Club, and
remarks, “Well, I think first of all society moves on, I guess.
I think its okay for students to have a good time as long as
they don’t do it in a way that’s offensive and disruptive to
others, and I think you don’t want your university to be so
serious that people can’t enjoy themselves.”
That’s a somewhat rose-tinted understanding of a dining
club famous for its “loutish” behaviour, and his response is
the same rehearsed line he and Cameron have repeated for
most of their political careers, but he can hardly be blamed
for wanting to distance himself from a club which seems
grossly out of touch with his own vision of a meritocratic
Britain.
He continues: “I think one place where Oxford – and this
is true of other big universities in Britain – they should try
to feed in a little bit more; they can feel like they’re a bit cut
off from the rest of the country.
“So I teach at Stanford University in California, and I’m going to be there in a couple of days’ time, and you really feel on the campus that this is a place completely connected with the latest developments in artificial intelligence, they’re thinking about how you regulate social media companies, big decisions on the future of China.
“And a lot of academics there come in and out of not just the US government but other governments, and I always felt that the British universities could perhaps do more to
really plug into national life.
“I’m not so much talking about the undergraduates here, I’m talking about the professors, the academics, and the post-grads, and not be afraid to say: ‘well I think the country can be run better, and here’s how to do it’, because you know, if ever it was needed it was needed now.”
This, again, gives us a glimpse of the technocratic kind of
liberalism Osborne wants to usher in, but it’s not lines like
these which are most revealing, but rather one throwaway
comment during his speech.
Pausing for a moment when asked how he felt about the
somewhat ignominious end to his career as Chancellor and
Tory heir apparent, he says “Well, as they say, all political
careers… end”.
And it’s that fumbling over Enoch Powell’s old quip
(that all political careers end in failure for those that don’t
know) that cuts to the heart of the matter: this is a man
who doesn’t believe his political career has to end in failure
and, I think, doesn’t believe its ended quite yet.