The EconomistFebruary 13th 2021 Britain 552 rules and regulation, and giving the centre
powers to overcome local resistance.
Health wonks mostly approve of the di-
rection of travel. Worries, where they exist,
are about details. The most concerning,
says Nigel Edwards of the Nuffield Trust, a
think-tank, is that the proposals may end
up creating unaccountable local monopo-
lies. Jeremy Hunt, a former health secre-
tary, suggests setting up a body along the
lines of Ofsted, which inspects schools, to
guard against this; others would like more
performance data published so that offi-
cials can be held to account.
But while those in the business mostly
approve of the first part of the govern-
ment’s plans, they do not like the second.
Mr Lansley’s reforms created a clear divi-
sion between politicians and the nhs. The
government sets the priorities and ap-
points the boss; the technocrats are left to
work out the details.
Nicholas Timmins, a historian of the
health service, thinks the set-up has led to
more consistent policymaking: “There
have not been endless announcements in
recent years, ‘Oh well, we’re going to spend
£40m ($55m) on dementia or £60m on can-
cer because the minister needs to say
something.’” Supporters of the nhs’s inde-
pendence point out that organisations un-
der ministerial control—such as Public
Health England and the test-and-trace sys-
tem—have not had successful pandemics.
The nhshas done a better job.
The white paper would put the govern-
ment back in control, giving it, among oth-
er things, the ability to abolish or alter the
arm’s-length bodies that make up the
health service without new legislation. The
political rationale is that since the state
spends more than £160bn a year on health
care, around 7% of gdp, ministers (or, as
they prefer to put it, taxpayers) should have
more say over how it is run. A cruder expla-
nation is that the government is annoyed
that Sir Simon runs rings around it, wheth-
er in funding negotiations or questions of
data access, and gets credit when things go
well. Politicians also like to be able to influ-
ence decisions that matter to voters—over,
for instance, the fate of an inefficient hos-
pital in a marginal constituency. Shutting
it may be the right decision for health care,
but the wrong one for a government cling-
ing to power.
Knowing how fraught any legislative
process involving the nhscan become, the
government has played down the signifi-
cance of these new powers. Mr Johnson
will be loath to get into an argument with
medics, so he will hope they do not rally to
the defence of the officials who run the
health service. At times, the nhsreally is
powered by love. But it can also run on an-
ger—a frightening prospect to any politi-
cian, especially one who came to power
posing as its protector. 7
A
lex, a crypto-currencytrader in east
London, is a party animal. For a while
covid-19 put a brake on his hedonism, but
during this lockdown the boredom got too
much, so he has started attending cocaine-
and spirit-fuelled parties once more. At the
last bash, in January, there were 40-50 peo-
ple. He is not surprised it was so well-at-
tended: his friends, he says, are “a bunch of
degenerates...Liberal progressive people
don’t give a toss anymore.” One such soirée
was so raucous that it exploded onto the
street, where two guests scrapped. Alex
says the neighbours did not call the police
because they host similar gatherings.
When the pandemic began Britons em-
braced a wholesome 1950s-style of living.
Sales of board games and bicycles soared,
while social-media feeds were swamped
with photos of homemade sourdough
bread. Most people may have stuck to such
blameless pastimes. In a survey by Ipsos
moriin January, 78% of Britons claimed to
follow the government’s rules.
But Robert Dingwall, professor of social
sciences at Nottingham Trent University,
reckons a parallel society is emerging. It is,
he says, “very much like eastern Europe in
the old days... not entirely secret but care-
fully organised so not to come to the atten-
tion of the authorities.”
Despite an £800 ($1,100) fine introduced
in January for anyone attending a gather-
ing of more than 15 people, police regularly
break up large house parties. Last month, araid on an upmarket party in Knightsbridge
saw two officers injured as attendees fled.
Security-conscious promoters are doing
their best to avoid unwanted publicity.
Some use Telegram, a secure messaging
app, to advertise exclusive parties. “No
photos or videos,” read one flyer for a party
held on February 6th with an entrance fee
of £10. Cannabis cafés and poker clubs have
also been shut down.
Sport has gone underground, too.
Across Britain, youths have been scaling
fences to break into skateparks—often
abusing officials who try to stop them. But
skaters are also disappearing into the shad-
ows, says an enthusiast, by building their
own skateparks in wasteland and wood-
land areas, some from concrete. Amateur
footballers have broken into pitches for
kickabouts. On January 31st police stopped
a football game involving more than 20
people in Dartford, Kent. Meanwhile, po-
lice in Shropshire say car races are taking
place on farmland. Hare-coursing—setting
greyhounds to chase hares, which is ille-
gal—is all the rage in the Midlands. In Janu-
ary, a large gathering was broken up by po-
lice in Peterborough and fines were issued.
Another marginal pursuit that has
flourished during lockdown is group sex in
outdoor locations, or dogging. Locals who
live near notorious sites have reported in-
creased activity in lockdown; in Birdlip, a
Gloucestershire village, there was even a
report of goings-on at lunchtime. On Feb-
ruary 4th, Police Scotland dispersed over
50 doggers from a Paisley car park; which,
given the chilly northern temperatures,
showed an impressive level of commit-
ment. It is such a problem in Hampton-in-
Arden, a West Midlands village, that a secu-
rity gate has been installed to close off a
popular lane. “It is just not what you’d ex-
pect from an affluent village in Solihull,”
says a councillor. 7A secret world of illicit fun is
developingRule-breakingGoing
underground
Fun for some