Neil O’Brien: Here are three urgent responses to China’s growing power – which we will soon have an opportunity to make

19 Oct

Neil O’Brien is MP for Harborough.

Are we, in fact, losing the competition with China?

Consider current events. The IMF predicts China will be the only country with a positive growth rate this year. Since 2004 the UK’s share of world manufacturing halved from four per cent to two per cent, while China’s rose from nine per cent to 28 per cent.

Being a surveillance state has proved handy in the crisis: detecting a dozen Coronavirus cases, the Chinese city of Qingdao is testing its entire population of nine million people for Covid-19 over a period of five days.

Whether it’s the holographic windows on the Beijing subway, or the scary videos of the People’s Liberation Army showing off its new mobile drone swarms, the sense that we are being overtaken is palpable.

So is the increasingly authoritarian and militaristic nature of the Chinese regime. Every day the Chinese press is full of two things. First, ever more lavish praise for Xi Jinping, now officially elevated to “People’s Leader”, and increasingly exercising one-man rule. Second, increasingly dire threats to other countries that dare to cross China.

This week it was the turn of Canada, which was warned not to accept refugees from Hong Hong on pain of having more Canadian citizens arrested in China. There’s a steadily louder drumbeat of threats to crush Taiwan: the other day Xi called on troops to “focus all [your] minds and energy on preparing for war”, and Taiwan revealed it had been forced to scramble jets 2,972 times against Chinese aircraft incursions this year.

A new and not very friendly superpower is emerging.  How should we respond?

In the next month or two we should see the publication of the Integrated Review.  This is a big improvement on previous Strategic Defence Reviews in that it goes wider, to think about economic competition, not just military rivalry.

The Review is a big deal, and in a world with no virus it would be headline news.

Other countries are considering the same issues. The EU now officially describes China as a “systemic rival” and “strategic competitor”, while the US is taking a huge amount of actions (on a cross party basis) to protect its interests from China.

While we’ve had less debate in the UK, we face exactly the same challenge.

In a speech last week, the head of MI5 noted that while Beijing’s espionage efforts typically take the form of “hacking commercially sensitive information or commercially sensitive data, and intellectual property”, UK spies have also detected attempts by Chinese counterparts to influence UK politics. China is “changing the climate,” he said:

“Sometimes our role is to spot the hidden State hand in the pursuit of promising UK companies whose acquisition might dent our future prosperity and security. On China, we need expansive teamwork – a broad conversation across government and crucially beyond, to reach wise judgements around how the UK interacts with China on both opportunities and risks.”

This is sensible. So what should the Integrated Review do on China?  For me there are three big things.

First, we need an Australian style counter-influence unit to combat attempts to meddle in our politics

Like the Australian equivalent, it should be empowered to tackle a range of issues. Top London lobbying firms paid by hostile states for starters.  We wouldn’t have let the Soviet Union hire Saatchi & Saatchi in the cold war, so why don’t lobbyists have to declare payments from arms of the Chinese state now?

Universities could use more oversight and guidance too – witness the Chinese cash-for-influence scandal at Jesus College Cambridge. The same issues apply in think tanks, businesses and even the House of Lords. China is quick to snap up ex-permanent secretaries and even ex-spies. We need a coordinated approach.

Second, we need a new partnership with firms and universities to protect our economic and technology security. 

At the moment, we have a completely one-sided relationship, in which China can help itself to whatever university research it wants from the UK, buy up any interesting technology firm and even get our universities to work for branches of their military – an approach described in Beijing as ‘picking flowers in foreign lands to make honey in China’.

Through coercive joint ventures and corporate espionage, China can perform a sort of supermarket sweep on the intellectual property of the west.  Meanwhile China bans investment in swathes of its economy, locks up people suspected of leaking industrial secrets and has just passed tight new laws on the export of key technologies.

It’s a modern version of the same mercantilism that saw China guard the secrets of silk-making for hundreds of years, but the real question is why we allow a one way transfer of technology?

A new unit in Number Ten or the Treasury should coordinate relationships with industry to help identify who is sniffing around new technologies – perhaps we need a UK version of the US Business Entrepreneurs Networks which help US government build up market intelligence.

We also need greater transparency on who is working with our universities. At present we don’t even collect data on who is funding them from overseas.  Many firms would love help to counter hacking of their secrets or advice on tie-ups with Chinese firms.  There should be an obvious place to turn to in government to get it.

Third, we need an “Office for the Future”.

China’s growing dominance isn’t just built on exploiting naive western countries, but on a relentless focus on research and industrial strategy which we should learn from. However, in government I felt that the different bodies which are currently supposed to help us think about technology add up to less than the sum of their parts.

Collectively the Government Office for Science, the Council for Science and Technology, UKRI, BEIS the Research Councils and learned societies have many brilliant people, but the system lacks a controlling mind or plan.

Some of this is about the wider civil service, and we should learn from Singapore: the world’s best civil service. Some of it is about our growing our pitiful level of investment in R&D, which has sunk over the decades just as China’s grew.

But we also need a plan. We need some part of government to be aware of the significance of new technologies and emerging firms before they have been snaffled and carted of to China or anywhere else. Research funding in government isn’t industrially-focussed enough. We need a unit to think commercially about where we should concentrate research investment, and where we shouldn’t. To work out what we need to do to be ready to catch the wave of new opportunities, in the way that Beijing is so good at.

In a new book, “The Wake-Up Call”, John Micklethwait and Adrian Wooldridge sketch out how the virus has exposed the challenges facing the UK and other western countries, and the scale of the challenge we’re facing.

It reminds me a bit of the late 1970s, when Helmut Schmidt, then West Germany’s Chancellor, declared: “England is no longer a developed country,” and Nick Henderson’s famous leaked telegram highlighted our rapid descent.  Eventually we get angry enough to do something about it, and elected Margaret Thatcher.

This time the problems are different and we are already in government. But the urgency is just the same. Let us hope that the Integrated Review can be part of the wake-up call we need.

Claire Coutinho: Amidst the Great Global Data Divide, Britain must lead the charge for digital free markets

16 Oct

Claire Coutinho is MP for East Surrey.

As the world’s first industrialised nation, Britain knows the value of getting ahead of the economic curve. Access to natural resources like coal and oil have driven historic and economic revolutions, but in the future the fuel of our economy will be data.

Data flows are already estimated to be worth up to £3 trillion a year to the world’s economy. But a global divide is opening up between those leaning towards digital protectionism, like China and the EU, and those pioneering data agreements.

Where once we had the iron curtain, we now have digital drapes. We must reject this impulse and secure access to the resource that will drive our future growth. Pursuing freer digital markets can propel a great British leap forward. To achieve this, we must put ambitious digital chapters at the heart of our trading agenda.

The global data divide has been developing over many years. It sees some countries restrict the transfer of whole swathes of data, with others taking a far more open approach.

For China, its restrictions form part of its protectionist Made in China 2025 industrial strategy, as well as reinforcing its Great Firewall.

Others, such as New Zealand and Australia, have pioneered digital agreements to make it easier for their businesses to connect with new customers.

Britain is a services superpower. We are second only to the USA in our volume of exports. The sector contributes over 80 per cent of our economic output and employs 30 million people. Our data centres are world leaders, we have a global financial centre and thriving data-rich sectors like AI and fintech.

In 2018, the digital sector contributed £150 billion to the British economy, and grew at a rate almost six times faster than across the whole economy. As Britain flies the flag for free trade, ensuring the international free flow of data will be crucial to our future prosperity.

Digital Trade Agreements form the foundation of future services growth. Digital exports do not recognise geographic distance, which makes large markets on the other side of the globe even more appealing.

From facilitating e-contracts across borders, to preventing requirements for data to be stored domestically and allowing British companies to access foreign Government data, these agreements will be increasingly important for our services-driven trade. Regrettably, the global data divide is stymieing progress in international regulatory developments, leaving a void that will only become more pronounced.

Data localisation strikes at the heart of efficient business. Without locking in free dataflows, businesses in increasingly broad sectors would face the need for expensive data centres to operate abroad. In the long term, this would hit our national economy. In fact, the US Chamber of Commerce estimates that Chinese data protectionism will reduce its GDP by between 1.8 and 3.4 per cent by 2025.

As a leading digital economy with new control over its trade policy and an ambitious outlook, Britain is uniquely placed to help shape global rules in this emerging arena. A firm focus on digital trade will place Britain at the forefront in the sphere most crucial to the future success of our economy, and lock-in the digital freedoms that our businesses currently enjoy. The UK-Japan Free Trade Agreement stands us in good stead; going further than the EU-Japan deal and the Digital Economy Partership Agreement, it contains arguably the most wide-ranging and ambitious digital provisions of any agreement in the world.

Liz Truss is rightly focused on the Indo Pacific – the world’s fastest growing region. With plans to join the CPTPP, and trade negotiations underway with pioneers New Zealand, Australia and Singapore, Britain is right to side with digital free-traders. Digital Agreements in this region represent a significant opportunity for the UK, and one which we could not have pursued without leaving the EU.

The coming century will be dominated by data-dependent technology. Ensuring that our trade deals contain ambitious digital chapters will put us ahead of the economic curve, building firm foundations for future growth. Britain reaped great economic benefits from leading the first industrial revolution; we must ensure we are well placed for the next.

Richard Ritchie: The climate crisis – and this pandemic – have made the case for a carbon tax stronger than ever before

15 Oct

Richard Ritchie is the author of a recent history of a secretive group of Conservative MPs called The Progress Trust (Without Hindsight: A History of the Progress Trust 1943-2005). He is Enoch Powell’s archivist and is a former Conservative Parliamentary Candidate. He was BP’s director of UK Political Affairs.

There is something in the air, and it’s not just carbon or virus emissions. Earlier this month, ConservativeHome carried a piece by Rachel Wolf, championing carbon pricing – that is the polite way of describing some form of carbon tax. Then, the influential economist Dieter Helm published in September a new book, Net Zero: How We Stop Causing Climate Change, which explains in detail the rationale behind a carbon tax. And from The Times, we’ve learnt that the Chancellor is considering such a tax for his next, Covid-19 budget.

It’s not a new idea. When I worked for BP and climate change first entered the political agenda – before, the main worry was that oil would run out and become too expensive – thoughts on how to price carbon were already in circulation. The oil and gas industry saw some merit in the concept, but favoured emissions trading over a tax, correctly identifying this as a less expensive, Europe-inspired fudge. Now, the combination of a pandemic and climate crisis gives the idea of a carbon tax real traction.

The political implications are important. Climate change and Covid-19 have much in common. Both require us to “follow the science”, although in neither case is the science unanimous. Both are manna from heaven for those who wish to “shut-down” the economy, and limit personal freedom. Both provide excuses for expanding the state. And in both cases, the cure can prove worse than the disease.

There can be little doubt that, so far, global policies to reduce carbon emissions have failed. This won’t worry those who are sceptical of the causes of climate change. But if one believes a failure to act now is to bequeath a catastrophe to future generations, then those on the “right” should be as concerned as those on the “left”.

Where we differ will be on the remedies. So far, “left-of-centre” remedies have generally been the norm. The Kyoto Protocol in 2007 and the Paris Agreement in 2015 have been little more than an opportunity for governments and lobbyists to parade their compassion. Whatever Trump’s motives may be surrounding climate change, his analysis of the Paris Agreement is basically sound. Some of course think its failure is due to inadequate targets; but their targets would make the economic consequences of Covid-19 seem trivial in comparison.

So the question is whether there is a policy which would reduce carbon emissions effectively, in an economically rational way. This is surely one reason why Rishi Sunak is attracted by the idea of a carbon tax as a means of reducing carbon consumption.

In Dieter Helm’s view, the word “consumption” is pivotal. It is no good concentrating solely on industrial emissions, as these won’t necessarily have any global effect – it simply drives emissions abroad, frequently to China. But a carbon tax which crucially incorporated a carbon border tax on imports would, by targeting attention on everyone’s personal carbon footprint, incentivise many things which probably make sense in themselves anyway.

There will be many Conservatives who will argue that all taxes do harm, and that the introduction of a “new” tax is incompatible with Tory beliefs. But unless one is totally sceptical of the science, and dismissive of the need to balance the books, there is much to be said for taxing “bads” rather than “goods”.

Of course it is open to many objections. For example, does the Treasury regard a carbon tax as an emergency measure to raise revenue, or a longstanding instrument to influence behaviour? If it is to serve its purpose, it will eventually yield less revenue.

Equally, if applied in the wrong way, it could merely make this country less competitive. Without care, it could prove regressive. Indeed, if the Paris riots over fuel duty are any guide, it could also prove politically impossible.

Then, for it to work, there must be alternatives for consumers to choose from. Not many will choose an electric car, for example, if there is no guarantee that it can be charged along the journey. (Although mention of electric cars also serves as a reminder that not everything is at it seems – an electric car takes twice as much carbon to produce than a conventional one. A carbon tax would sort that out too).

On the other hand, if properly devised a carbon tax has the capacity both to raise government revenue and to reduce carbon emissions, and even to incentivise other countries to follow suit. Matters to be decided include how the carbon price is fixed and at what level it should be introduced. Should it be levied on consumption or production? Does the tax provide sufficient time for consumers to adjust?

This is the political danger. Carbon taxes could come to the rescue of a cash-strapped Chancellor, because they hold out the prospect of raising new revenue without breaking a manifesto commitment not to raise existing taxes. But if the carbon tax is set too high at the outset, it will be counter-productive. If the Treasury is following Helm’s advice, “the trick is to start low, but credibly signal that the price is going to go up as high as is necessary to achieve the (carbon reduction) target.”

There is no painless way of reducing carbon emissions. Those on the “left” will embrace a policy which involves “picking winners”, nationalisation, subsidies, exemptions, regulation and illiberal compliance. A lobbyist’s paradise. The alternative is to incentivise new technologies, create new markets and provide practical signals to consumers. This is the purpose of a carbon tax. It will never be “popular” because the costs of transforming the networks, communications and transport of this country to facilitate lower carbon emissions are enormous.

But compared with the alternatives, a carbon tax is at least rational and addresses all the major sources of carbon emissions, namely agriculture, transport and electricity. Moreover, it produces a new source of government revenue at a time when it is desperately needed.

Any new tax is depressing to a free market Tory. But climate change, like pandemics, raises issues which are more important than economics. If it is a whole load of nonsense to claim that today’s climate change is man-made, then we are free to carry on as we are.

But if not, Tories have an obligation to advocate alternative solutions to those of the socialist “greens”. The market is the best way of allocating scare resources effectively. But in a time of war, the market cannot tell us how much to spend on butter or guns. That is a political choice, and it is the nature of the choice presented by climate change, if most scientists are to be believed. On so many levels and for so many reasons, it is hardly surprising if Sunak is pondering one.

Ryan Bourne: Johnson’s green jobs. Subsidy-reliant, expensive, price-raising. And a job loser elsewhere.

14 Oct

Ryan Bourne is Chair in Public Understanding of Economics at the Cato Institute.

It is said that, during the 1960s, Milton Friedman was visiting China, where guides took him to a canal-building site. Shocked at the prevalence of men bearing shovels, Friedman asked why the project wasn’t utilising modern technologies, such as mechanical diggers.

“You don’t understand, Professor Friedman,” his host explained, “this is a job creation programme.” To which Friedman retorted, “Oh, I thought you were trying to build a canal. If you really want to create jobs, then by all means give your workers spoons, not shovels.”

That tale is beloved by economists because it contains an important truth: gross job creation is a poor metric to judge success when considering government-led infrastructure. We could “create jobs” through getting people to fill in holes.

What matters is the net value added of the output created, as determined in markets – i.e: by consumers and open trade. Using more workers less efficiently to produce a canal reduces the output’s net value, because labour is a cost of production.

This lesson sprang to mind last week during Boris Johnson’s speech to the Conservative Party Conference. As part of his ode to offshore wind, Johnson talked of the UK’s natural abundance of the stuff (the “Saudi Arabia” of wind) and his excitement at the technology (floating wind islands). But he also extolled the idea of a UK “green industrial revolution” that “in the next ten years will create hundreds of thousands if not millions of jobs.”

Any market-led or government-incentivised shift towards wind will see new jobs in the industry “created.” But this shouldn’t be the goal. To echo Friedman, “we thought you were trying to produce electricity, subject to mitigating climate change. If you wanted to create jobs, why not have people make the wind turbines by hand?” We should judge the desirability of a pro-wind energy policy framework, in other words, by its contribution to this social value added, not numbers employed in the sector.

“Gross job creation in wind and other renewable generation is clearly a cost in economic terms,” Professor Gordon Hughes of Edinburgh explained to me last week. “The higher the number [of jobs], the larger the subsidies required and the larger the damage to the rest of the economy.”

He views this outcome as an unacknowledged problem of wind power generally, which does require labour for operations and maintenance, particularly as turbines age. If we are purely looking at how to produce power most efficiently, then these jobs are a hindrance – an economic failure, not success. According to Hughes, talking of creating “millions of jobs” is a “shortcut to national impoverishment”.

Of course, the desire for climate change mitigation means policymakers reject the premise that we just want our energy sector to simply prize efficiency. Due to the “social costs” of carbon, they aren’t just concerned about traditional measured value added, but are explicitly willing to take an economic hit in targeting a broader conception of economic welfare that takes into account these CO2 externalities.

And that’s fine, in principle. Yet even then, “green jobs” shouldn’t be the aim. An economist would say we should try (albeit imperfectly) to price this social cost, and then let markets find the most efficient way of delivering power accounting for it. What that does not require is industrial strategies, picking winners, and seeing the green energy sector as some sort of jobs machine.

Indeed, simple logic would suggest that making energy less efficiently than socially necessary reduces net jobs across the whole economy because of its impact on energy prices. “Energy is a labour-extensive industry. It does not employ a lot of people” Richard Tol, the renowned climate economist, explains. “If the energy sector would start to employ many more people, retail energy prices would rise rapidly.”

Given every other activity uses power as an input, it surely doesn’t need to be said that “more expensive energy means less growth and so less job creation” elsewhere. Given the sizes of the “energy” and “non-energy” sectors too, “a large relative increase in employment in energy is easily offset by a small relative decrease in employment in the rest of the economy.” An explicit aim to “create jobs” in the wind industry, in other words, would be vastly outweighed by job losses elsewhere.

Note: none of my analysis here is passing judgment on the desirability of decarbonisation. Tol believes that given the energy framework of UK policy, wind power will probably be cheaper than coal or gas through the 2030s. What I am simply saying is that aiming for more employment in wind, rather than merely trying to deliver power cheaply subject to any climate goals, is a deeply economically destructive way of thinking.

So why is the Prime Minister talking of millions of green jobs? Well, unfortunately, many politicians have moved beyond simply wanting to set frameworks for energy or even climate goals, and their green credentials have become wrapped with their becoming re-inured to the idea of national industrial strategies.

Not content with allowing consumers and producers to find the best ways to allocate resources, the Conservative Government increasingly wants to decide which sectors the national economy specialises in, thinking the state will this time do a good job of picking winners. And Boris Johnson’s “Saudi Arabia of wind” suggests that he wants to try to use policy to actively push the UK towards exporting wind power.

Would that work? No, says Tol. “Electricity is much more expensive to transport than oil…Wind power in the UK is cheaper than, say, wind power in Italy – but wind power generated in the UK and transmitted to Italy cannot compete with wind power generated in Italy.” Exporting the end product is a non-starter.

What about manufacturing the parts? “Despite what he [Johnson] says, no one is going to manufacture wind turbines in the UK without massive subsidies – that game is long past,” Hughes concludes. So having the Government tilt the deck further to try to create a wind manufacturing export industry would not only drag resources away from other activities with higher net value added, but make us a hostage to technological fortunes.

As Hughes has previously written: there’s no guarantee technological progress is more likely to come in renewables than fossil fuels or nuclear (see, for example, fracking).

To return to the Friedman analogy: we might accept some more shovel than machine use for canal building, if there were greater environmental costs of using machines, though recognising this makes us poorer. It’s another thing to say that rather than building a canal as efficiently as possible subject to this, the national government should intervene to support canal building or our selling shovels around the world. Yet with his promise of a green revolution, that is precisely what the Prime Minister implies.

Ed McGuinness: A lesson for democracy in Europe from an abandoned airport in Cyprus

13 Oct

Ed McGuinness is a former Chairman of Islington Conservative Federation, founder of Conservatives in the City and contested Hornsey & Wood Green during last year’s general election.

In the middle of the Mediterranean atop the Mesaoria plain lies a major European international airport. There is a terminal, a runway, baggage machines and even a first class lounge as you would expect.

What is missing are passengers and the passage of time. The Nicosia International Airport is abandoned in the Cypriot Neutral Buffer Zone between the Greek-Cypriot part of the Island in the South and the Turkish occupied territory in the North.

This no man’s land (though it actually contains several populated villages) was said to have been drawn on a military map in 1963, with a wax pencil, by a British general commanding the peacekeeping force on the island in the wake of the Turkish invasion. In recent times, it has become one of many explanatory points in the EU’s ever increasing complex foreign policy proposals.

Almost two and a half thousand miles away on an brisk autumn day in Brussels, Ursula von der Leyen was delivering her first State of the Union address, amidst the backdrop of a huge coronavirus stimulus package, on-going migration crises and foreign policy dilemmas over Belarus and China.

As it stands at the moment, essentially in order to enact lasting change, the EU requires every member state to agree on such significant issues as economic sanctions. When effective, the result is the world’s second largest economic bloc exerting a hefty punch.

But more often than not, this bureaucratic behemoth ends up in months off stalemate, compromise and early morning solutions – not very conducive to effective law-making. Von der Leyen, frustrated with this, suggested that, for human rights and sanctions implementation, the bloc should move to a “qualified majority voting” whereby 55 per cent of member states (15) comprising 65 per cent of the population can vote for such measures.

The reason why this issue has come to the fore is the failure of the bloc to come up with unanimous sanctions against Belarus and its despotic leader, Alexander Lukashenko, following his blatant rigging of national elections and violent suppression of pro-democracy protests as a result.

The EU is seemingly united on the issue: indeed, all member states agreed to impose sanctions on their immediate eastern neighbour – all, that is, except Cyprus.

Cyprus, that small country in the middle of the Mediterranean amongst other forgotten Southern European countries, is still in a “cold” war against the Turkish invaders to the North. Their air forces engage in mock dogfights, and even their navies have quite literally run into each other.

Cyprus however, has less than two per cent of the population of Germany and just 0.25 per cent of the EU population.  So it has, whilst in an on-going state of conflict with Turkey, to stand by and watch Germany lead on negotiations with its rival over a migration crisis that is, in relative terms, more important to Angela Merkel than it is to the Cypriot people.

As a result, Nicosia has exercised its only real influence over Brussels to allow its people to be heard over what is its most important foreign policy dilemma – a mechanism that would much less effective under the changes proposed by vvon don der Leyen.

Ironically, von der Leyen is indeed correct. The only way to prevent endless vetoes, continuously circling the issue and ending up with watered down solutions is to adopt a voting system based on a simpler majority, but in doing so she fundamentally breaches the “universal value of democracy and the rights of the individual” within the Union – a phrase she uttered in the same breath as her comments on voting reform.

The confusion at the heart of the matter is this: the operative aspect of the EU is in persistent conflict with its aspiration – in short, it is suffering from an identity crisis with limited escape routes. It is trying, and failing, to be both an economic union and at the same time, seemingly whenever it choses, a political union, with both aims simultaneously mutually exclusive and co-dependant.

An example of which may be advocating for voting reform and lowering representation in one sentence, and espousing the democratic rights of its citizenry in another. Stating it stands up for the rights of its smaller nations, whilst its bigger nations club together to secure powers and influence over their own interests.

The EU is now attempting a slow death of democracy which will concentrate power and wealth in the north-western countries to the detriment and federalisation of the southern nations. It is no wonder that pro-sovereignty movements have taken hold there.

The EU faces a stark choice, which will upset a significant bloc either way.

The first course is to follow their stated aim of continual political integration, which is clearly the option favoured by the President and larger countries who will benefit given their scale.

The second is to recognise the value of devolution, and endeavour to support those countries on the periphery of the Union.

A final option is to simply do nothing…and allow these problems to continue to build in a state of perpetual crisis. As with much in the EU, some mixture of choices two and three is most likely followed by an undemocratic push into option one, sometime many years from now.

The result may well be a smoother machine, but will be a further drain on the power, influence and already low democratic representation in the smaller capitals of the Union who are trapped by economic shackles to the centre.

The UK, and Canada, at the time of writing, have enacted sanctions on Belarus, Lukashenko and his senior lieutenants, and have worked swiftly with the US on multiple occasions this year to act on aggression from Chinese and Russian abuses of the rules based international order.

The “take back control narrative” which prevailed in the UK in 2016 has begun to deliver on those promises. The EU, on the other hand, remains confused about its own democratic values and whether it actually works for all its member states, or only does so when it wants to, or when it benefits its larger members.

Ultimately, the smaller countries in the EU will be the losers in the reforms proposed by von der Leyen, echoed in a recent tweet on by Guy Verholfstadt suggesting “unanimity was killing the EU”.

Well, Guy, it will continue to hold back the EU – or else the EU will end up killing its smaller members. The President of the European Commission ought to visit the abandoned airport in Nicosia. There she would see the land that time forgot which would perhaps spur her, and her colleagues, to remember how easily democracy can die.

Bernard Jenkin: The threat of the virus to the NHS hasn’t gone away. How it could overwhelm hospitals – and intensive care.

13 Oct

Bernard Jenkin MP is Chair of the Liaison Committee, and MP for Harwich and North Essex.

The spring lockdown was necessary to avoid the NHS being overwhelmed by hundreds of thousands of seriously ill people. Today, infection rates are rising again.  So again, we must ask the question: what hospital capacity is required to keep pace with rates of infection?

Today, there is far more data, better understanding of the virus, and better treatments, so we no longer need to entertain the most apocalyptic predictions. Nevertheless, the figures are stark.

It is medical consensus that it takes an average of seven to ten days for someone infected with Coronavirus to develop severe symptoms which require hospitalisation. This affects a smaller proportion now, but ONS data suggests it is still significant.

In the week up to the 1st of October, 16,000 people per day were infected with coronavirus in England.  Hospitalisation data for this specific this specific period is still emerging, but already, seven to ten days later, the Government’s daily Coronavirus updates suggest that between 500 and 600 new hospitalisations are taking place daily in England.

This suggests that some three to four per cent of those newly infected with coronavirus will require hospitalisation. This is lower than earlier in the year (which was up to three times higher).

However, the epidemic is currently most prevalent among young adults.  They are far less likely to require hospitalisation.  This is the case in my own county, Essex, but low case rates are now doubling every ten days, as the virus spreads up the age range.  So rising case rates will lead to rising hospitalisations.

Intensive care units will also come under pressure.  Estimates from the spring suggest that up to 17 per cent of those in hospital with cthe Coronavirus required a move to the ICU.  Perhaps that will be lower too.  Let’s assume it will be only 10 per cent (and that optimism makes the sums easier).

The length of hospital stays also matters.  Those infected with Coronavirus can expect a length of stay in hospital of between five and 15 days, depending upon from where the data is drawn.

Here, a consensus has yet to emerge.  (The paucity of studies from outside China and the pandemic’s continuation means that medics are still feeling their way.)  In his presentation on Monday, Jonathan Van Tam, the Deputy Chief Medical Officer, showed a graphic with a range of nine to nineteen days: taking the middle point of that gives an average stay of 14 days. Similar evidence suggests that eight days is also the approximate length of stay for patients in ICU beds.

England has approximately 140,000 hospital beds, and 4,100 adult ICU beds. For this part of the year, we would expect around 85 per cent of beds to be full, which gives ‘spare’ capacity in England of around 20,000 hospital beds.

So what do all this statistical estimates mean, when asking how much hospital capacity will be needed if there is serious Coronavirus spread throughout the UK?

Let’s assume that we let the virus spread, so that, over the next three months, an additional quarter of the population of England becomes infected with coronavirus – an additional 14 million people. This is equivalent to just under five million infections per month, or 156,000 infections per day. 3.5 per cent of five million would become sick enough require hospitalisation.  That is equivalent to 5,500 daily hospitalisations.

We have to date ignored two factors which make things seem better than they would be. First, there would not be a flat rate of infections at 156,000 per day over three months. Instead, the daily infection rate would follow the familiar (and far more disastrous) bell-curve.

Second, we are assuming that the population which falls sick is relatively young and healthy, as now, and that we can protect the vulnerable.  Experience in this second wave already suggests this is most unlikely.

But let’s look again at what would be necessary to manage 5,500 daily hospitalisations. We know that hospitalisations last, on average, for 14 days. This means that we would need 77,000 extra beds on top of what we now have. So in addition to the 20,000 spare hospital beds that we currently have, we would need to find another 57,000 – equivalent to just over 16 new London-sized Nightingale hospitals.

In this (flat) scenario, these hospitals, as well as every hospital in the country, would have to be run at 100 per cent capacity, each and every single day for three months.

We have also assumed that we can perfectly match hospital capacity to the location of infection hotspots, which is not the experience.  Images we have seen of packed hospital corridors in Lombardy or New York demonstrate this task is very difficult, if not impossible.

For ICU capacity, the numbers are even more stark. If one in ten of those requiring hospitalisation require being moved to the ICU, then 5,500 daily hospitalisations becomes 550 daily ICU admissions. At an average length of stay of eight days, England alone would require 4,400 ICU beds, more than the entire capacity of ICU beds in the country.

And if the epidemic spreads to older and more vulnerable people, this shortage would become yet more acute.  In Essex, the NHS is not planning to stop doing anything but Coronavirus.  The aim is to keep the NHS open for as much normal business as possible, but there would be no possibility of achieving that in the scenario above.

This is the maths which is driving the conversation in government around the need for new Covid restrictions. If test and trace was working better, perhaps we would have been better able to keep the number of cases down.

But absent massive test and trace capacity, the Government has no option but to consider the second round of Covid restrictions to get us through this winter.

The reality of this virus is that it is not like ‘flu; something you get once and gives you immunity.  It is also very hard, perhaps impossible, to find a permanent vaccine.  There never was a vaccine for AIDS or for SARS (another coronavirus).

Time and science will improve the resilience of people, society and the economy.  We certainly should not plan to have varying degrees of lockdown every six or twelve months.  The Government should set up a long term strategic group, away from the daily pressures of Whitehall, to draft a strategic White Paper, Living with Coronavirus, which sets out how we can best manage Covid-19 while keeping the economy open.

Rehman Chishti and Knox Thames: Freedom of religion is under threat. Trans-Atlantic efforts can combat that.

12 Oct

Rehman Chishti is an MP and the former UK Prime Minister’s Special Envoy on FoRB. Knox Thames served as the US Special Advisor on Religious Minorities at the State Department for both the Obama and Trump administrations.  

The United States and the United Kingdom have worked closely on joint efforts to promote freedom of religion or belief (FoRB) worldwide. It’s a reflection of our shared values, and the partnership presents a unique opportunity for joint action. And the time to act is now.

Religious repression is at all-time highs, with the Pew Forum reporting 84 per cent of the global community lives in countries with high or very high restrictions on faith practices. That’s not to say everyone is persecuted, but that the space for freedom of conscience is shrinking. People of all faiths and worldviews are affected by these trends, which have implications beyond human rights, including international security and the growth of violent religious extremism.

Solving a problem this large requires diverse coalitions. Through our work, we recognised the substantial advantages of partnerships with like-minded governments. Thankfully, there is unprecedented interest in a new trans-Atlantic effort to promote this fundamental freedom.

In the UK, the Truro report, launched the day after Christmas in 2018 by Jeremy Hunt, the then UK Foreign Secretary, specifically examined persecuted Christians. The report found troubling examples of Christian persecution, but noted that other communities also suffer, and recommended Her Majesty’s government do more to assist all persons persecuted for their beliefs. I (Chishti) was tasked with setting the 22 recommendations into policy, getting 17 into place before leaving office.

In the US, the International Religious Freedom Act of 1998 created a special ambassador at large on the issue and office, as well as required the annual reporting on religious freedom conditions worldwide. During the Trump administration, the State Department convened two ministerial-level summits that elevated the issue and launched a new Alliance to bring together the most committed countries on advancing religious freedom for all.

We both believe that holistically advocating for everyone’s right, as opposed to singularly focused on just one community, is the best approach. We grounded our activities in Article 18 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which protects freedom of conscience, the right to change faith or have no faith, meet alone or with others for worship, and share one’s religious views. While, of course, we should speak out when individual groups face persecution, we must do so in the context of advocating for the right of religious freedom for all. A balanced approach focused on the right will ensure space for all beliefs.

Why? We’ve seen that it’s the most durable path to guaranteeing the right over the long haul. Environments where every individual is free to seek truth as their conscience leads is one where every community can thrive. In contrast, narrowly focused efforts, such as Christian persecution by Hungary or the Organization of Islamic Cooperation’s concentration on Muslim persecution, will most likely fall short of their long-term goals. It’s not that Christian and Muslim persecution isn’t happening – it most definitely is, and we must speak out.

But an environment providing freedom of conscience for all will ensure that individual communities can survive in the future. Otherwise, we risk creating religious Bantustans of special exemptions or carve-outs benefiting specific groups.

Working closely with Sam Brownback, the Ambassador at Large for International Religious Freedom, we instilled this approach into the new International Religious Freedom or Belief Alliance and its founding charter. Alongside our Dutch and Brazilian counterparts, the UN Special Rapporteur Ahmed Shaheed, and key civil society experts, we helped build an organisation of 30+ nations from different regional, political, and religious backgrounds. Of course, none of these countries are perfect, but they all agreed to uphold their Article 18 commitments at home and abroad, including contentious issues like conversion and free speech.

Working together with those committed to the same principles can meet the challenges of today. For instance, the Alliance devised new strategies to advocate for all, such as a statement on Covid to ensure that the pandemic doesn’t become a pretext to limit religious freedom. Another vital network we participated in with Canada – the International Contact Group for FoRB – was also grounded in this religious-freedom-for-all approach.

In the face of new challenges and opportunities, progress will depend on North American and European leadership. The challenges facing religious freedom are beyond the capabilities or influence of any one government or organisation. Fortunately, our common understanding creates a platform for coordinated and elevated activity. Now, in addition to the US and UK envoys, others exist in several countries and organisations: Canada, Czechia, Denmark, Estonia, EU, the Netherlands, Norway, OSCE, Poland, Romania, Sweden, and the United Nations.

The time is right for a more assertive trans-Atlantic approach, but parliamentarians and governments must demonstrate a lasting commitment to the right. Freedom of thought, conscience, and belief isn’t a conservative or liberal value or some sideshow to other issues, but a fundamental human right relevant to people of all faiths and none worldwide. It deserves the full attention of the international community.

Pressing repressive governments toward reform will not be easy or costless. China is playing hardball, with its persecution of UighursTibetansChristians, and the pressuring of countries daring to speak out. Pakistan’s abusive blasphemy law is in overdrive, while India is taking a wrong turn against minorities. Burma’s genocide against the Rohingya grinds on, while Christians in Nigeria suffer from Boko Haram.

In response, networking efforts among like-minded allies can share the burden and multiply the effectiveness of bilateral engagements. For instance, sanctions and other corrective measures like the Magnitsky act, which our countries have implemented, can create political leverage to encourage change. Hopefully, others in Europe will follow. Speaking out on specific cases is another example, such as on Yemen or blasphemy laws. To further elevate, our countries can use our UN Security Council seats to press for reforms. We can share data and train diplomats. All European and North American countries can immediately response to atrocity crimes, including genocide, or establish early warning systems.

More action is desperately needed. Governments must take this human right seriously and incorporate concerns across their policies. People of faith must speak up for persecuted believers (and non-believers) from other communities, to stand in solidarity with the repressed. Religious leaders should tackle this issue head-on, using their pulpits to advocate for soul freedom of all.

Everyone speaking up for everyone, even outside their belief system, is most impactful for the global effort. By working together, as rights-respecting communities on each side of the Atlantic, we can make a difference.

Stephen Booth: To reach a best in class trade deal with New Zealand and Australia, we must liberalise on agriculture

1 Oct

Stephen Booth is Head of the Britain in the World Project at Policy Exchange.

While the Brexit negotiations with the European Union have grabbed the headlines, the Department for International Trade has been quietly working away at the UK’s trading relationships with non-EU countries. Much of the work to date has been relatively uncontentious and therefore largely passes under the political radar.

In part, this is because the trade deals concluded to date have focused on securing and maintaining existing market access provided for by EU trade agreements, the UK’s access to which falls away at the end of the Brexit transition period on January 1. For example, the recent successful conclusion of UK trade negotiations with Japan built upon an existing EU-Japan agreement. While the UK and Japan were able to go further in some important areas, such as digital services and visas for business travel, the EU-Japan deal provided the template for much of the agreement on goods and tariffs.

However, the UK is also prioritising its negotiations with the United States, Australia and New Zealand. A trade agreement with the US presents the bigger immediate economic prize, but the negotiations with Australia and New Zealand are nonetheless strategically important. They are not only essential stepping stones towards the UK’s medium-term objective of joining the Comprehensive and Progressive Trans-Pacific Partnership (CPTPP) – a trade bloc of 11 countries around the Pacific rim and the third largest in the world. They are also like-minded countries with which the UK can hope to influence others.

The negotiations with Australia and New Zealand should be simpler than those with the US but all three negotiations are truly novel, requiring the UK to break new ground. As a consequence, trade policy is likely to move up the political agenda as the Government seeks to manage the competing interests an independent UK trade policy inevitably needs to reconcile.

For example, last week, the House of Lords amended the Agriculture Bill to stipulate that any agricultural imports must “match or exceed” the UK’s own welfare and production standards. The amendment is supported by industry-led and celebrity-backed campaigns, urging MPs to “save our standards”, and the Bill is expected to return to the Commons later this month.

Of course, maintaining and promoting high standards is a legitimate aim and an important objective for UK policy. However, as we leave the EU’s regulatory system, we need to balance these objectives against the way the world outside the EU operates in practice. Not only might trade partners accuse the UK of using standards as a cloak for protectionism. As the National Food Strategy’s recent report argued, we cannot realistically expect to unilaterally force our standards on others at the same time as we are seeking trade agreements with them.

The crux of the trade negotiations with both Australia and New Zealand is likely to be the extent to which the UK is prepared to liberalise on agriculture in return for a high-quality agreement on trade in services, data and investment. The UK should use these negotiations to push for the best in class FTA on these issues, going further than the commitments contained in the CPTPP because, ultimately, if the UK joins the CPTPP, it will have access to these benefits anyway. Australia and New Zealand are both supportive of the UK’s bid to join and, like the UK, view the bilateral negotiations as important staging posts.

60 per cent of UK exports to Australia are already in services sectors and this could be boosted further by reducing barriers to professional and business services, such as the mutual recognition of qualifications, opening up procurement markets and liberalising visa regimes for business people. Both Australia and New Zealand have requirements on inward investment that are higher than the UK’s and higher than the OECD average. The UK will be looking to reduce some of these requirements in order to ease firms’ ability to invest in those economies as a base for exports into the Asia-Pacific region.

In return, both countries expect the UK to offer greater market access for their agriculture exports. Both countries traditionally seek complete tariff elimination in their FTAs. This is unrealistic, given that the UK is largely maintaining the EU’s tariffs on agriculture products. Nevertheless, the UK will have to be prepared to offer tariff reductions.

The Japanese experience of negotiating with Australia and on its accession to the CPTPP could serve as a model. Japan, which had a highly protected agricultural sector, has undergone tariff liberalisation as part of those agreements, but in some of the most sensitive sectors tariffs have been maintained and reductions have been phased in over 10, 15 and even 20 years.

The issue of standards ought to be less contentious with these markets. The RSPCA notes that New Zealand’s farm standards “have been judged higher than the UK”. Nevertheless, it is worth noting that Australia and New Zealand take a different approach to the EU when it comes to standards. Both joined the US in its complaint against the EU’s ban on hormone-treated beef.

George Brandis, Australia’s High Commissioner to the UK, said recently that “the intellectual argument for free trade in some quarters of the British political establishment is an argument that still needs to be fought and won.” It is true that the UK has much to learn and much to gain from cooperating with both countries on trade policy.

Both have undertaken radical programmes of unilateral trade liberalisation (Australia from the 1970s and New Zealand from the 1980s). Both countries have also liberalised further via networks of trade agreements. Australia’s FTAs with Chile, China, Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand and the US provide for duty-free and quota-free access for all their goods into the Australian market.

As a result, both countries have successfully combined the diversification of their exports while delivering benefits to consumers by lowering tariffs on imports. Just as importantly, both countries have used the moral and political capital earned from unilateral reforms to place themselves at the forefront of global initiatives to promote free trade.

New Zealand is a founding member of the Digital Economy Partnership Agreement (DEPA), together with like-minded Chile and Singapore, which is at the cutting-edge of innovation in digital trade. It was with these countries that New Zealand initiated the process that ultimately led to the CPTPP. Meanwhile, Australia is the joint leader of the 23-party negotiations on the Trade in Services Agreement at the World Trade Organisation.

If the UK wishes to be at the forefront of the argument for global free trade, this is the sort of company it should be keeping.

Julian Brazier: The future of the Army – and why Haldane’s approach remains the best.

30 Sep

Sir Julian Brazier is a former Defence Minister, and was MP for Canterbury from 1987-2017.

Much of the public discussion around the Integrated Review of security and defence is focused on one issue – the size of the Army. Here on ConHome, Allan Mallinson recently asked a critical question: What is the Army for? It’s a good question – for too long we have been shaping our forces around “defence planning assumptions”, despite the fact that many of our wars and campaigns have been wholly unexpected; the First World War, the Falklands War and 9/11’s triggering of the Afghan campaign are examples. While the purpose of the Royal Navy and RAF are obvious, with Russian incursions into our air space and territorial waters and Chinese threats to our shipping routes, the Army is more like an insurance policy: there for when you need it.

Richard Haldane was the last minister to ask the fundamental question. Field Marshal Haig – not a man known for humility – wrote in 1918, six years after Haldane’s tenure ended:

‘… the greatest Secretary for War England has ever had. In grateful remembrance of [Haldane’s] successful efforts in organising the Military forces for War on the Continent…’

Haldane believed that Britain, with her commitment to a strong Navy, could never afford a peacetime Regular Army large enough to be sustainable in a major war. So, first, he honed a highly professional regular expeditionary force as a gallant vanguard. Then, he brought together the various reserve elements which Field Marshal Wolseley had built up (and drawn on in the Boer War) into a Territorial Force twice the size of the Regular Army. This ‘Second Line’ would be a vehicle to mobilise the nation.

That Second Line delivered surprisingly fast. Sir John French, our first commander in France, commented that:

‘“Without the assistance which the Territorials afforded between October 1914 and June 1915, it would have been impossible to hold the line in France and Belgium.”

Haldane’s vision extended further. Alongside the Territorial Force, he developed OTCs and cadet forces in universities, schools and communities, all positioning the Army closer to the wider public. Hitherto, cultural isolation had encouraged notoriously little public support for soldiers. Unlike the Navy, with a merchant marine (then) visible in ports in most of our great cities, the Army badly needed citizen advocates.

In the Second World War, Territorial units fought in every theatre. Some of our most innovative leaders, from Bill Slim (Birmingham OTC) to David Stirling (pre-war Guards reservist), came through “Haldane” routes rather than regular officer training.

Today this is the model across the English-speaking world. The National Guard and USAR – America’s twin volunteer reserve forces – together number the same as her Active Army. The Canadians and Australians also have a higher proportion of volunteer reserve units in their armies than we do. In autumn 2002, one fifth of our forces in Iraq and one eighth in Afghanistan were – simultaneously – from our small reserves. The Americans used much larger proportions.

At the height of the Cold War, the Soviet Army was well over a million – today it is under 250,000, but Russia can still mobilise an enormous army. One Russian soldier captured by the Ukrainians was a tractor driver from Siberia in his day job.

The Regular Army needs high professional standards (which it has), good quality training (currently hampered by Covid), modern equipment including digitisation (far more to do), decent conditions of service (housing is the Achilles’ heel) and a command structure able to operate at levels above its actual strength. We have just two divisions, but we need to think and plan for corps and armies, in war. They won’t, mostly, be regulars.

Some say what is needed is technology rather than mass, but digitisation is far ahead in the civilian world. It is no accident that Defence’s best cyber defence unit – as measured in the top US competition – is an Army Reserve unit. More broadly, mass will continue to be critical in the messy business of land warfare. The concrete urban sprawl which covers so many of the world’s trouble spots can suck up brigades to the acre, as recently seen in Mosul. Our present structure, 80,000 regulars and 30,000 reservists, is small.

The good news is that the Army has made progress in integrating reserves. A philosophy of backfilling regular units, rather than using formed bodies which build leaders and comradeship, had wrecked the Territorial Army by 2010. The smallest ever reserve officer intake to Sandhurst dwindled to just seven cadets. Last summer all 100-odd places were filled, with more turned away.

Capability is rebuilding too. Reserve battalions have started covering the Cyprus UN commitment again, a reserve light recce squadron is currently patrolling the Russian border in Estonia and, nationwide, reserves have been visible manning Covid testing stations.

At a time when some are questioning our ability to operate armour affordably and at scale, the one reserve armoured regiment, the Royal Wessex Yeomanry has progressed from backfilling individual crew members for regular regiments to exercising regularly at squadron level. The Army Reserve remains exceedingly small, as a basis for regeneration, but the direction of travel is right.

The other two services have a long way to go. Unlike the Americans and Israelis, the RAF still discards its expensively trained pilots (£13 million for a fast jet) when they finish full-time service. Fixed wing transport apart, it has no flying reserves. The opportunity to run-on Tornados in reserve formations was lost. There is hope, however, as the RAF Board have appointed their first reservist – with a successful military and civilian career – to join them.

The picture in the Naval Service is mixed. The Navy has a highly cost-effective Reserve Flying Branch – manned by ex-regulars. In contrast, the Royal Marines Reserves are expensive (e.g. regular Lieutenant Colonels commanding company-sized reserve units), unscalable because they have almost no young officers – instead being run by a generous scale of costly regular permanent staff – and are now hamstrung by slashed training budgets.

One development would have Haldane turning in his grave. The property and advocacy for the reserves and the management of the cadet forces are handled by an independent set of regional institutions called Reserve Forces and Cadet Associations (County Associations, when Haldane established them). These attract high grade people onto their councils who serve unpaid; one regional chairman, for example, is both former chief executive of a major power company and a former reserve major general, another owns his own 500-person business. The small, locally embedded, staffs they employ are far more efficient than the wretched organisations who ‘manage’ MoD’s estate.

In a fit of institutional hysteria, MoD is seeking to turn these RFCAs into a conventional quango – the first shots were fired against this in an excellent House of Lords debate. This idea should die.

That great historian and Territorial officer, Richard Holmes, used to say that anyone who designs reserves around defence planning assumptions has forgotten what a reserve is for. We need to extend that view to the Army as a whole, and Haldane’s approach remains the best: a high quality regular leading edge, with reserves providing both depth and integration with the nation as a whole.

Jason Reed: Taiwan, Britain and the UN. It’s time to rethink the One-China Policy.

25 Sep

Jason Reed is External Communications Officer at the British Conservation Alliance.

The World Health Organisation (WHO), which is an arm of the UN, has come under a great deal of scrutiny this year as a result of its disastrous leadership throughout the pandemic, the most troubling aspect of which is its close links with China.

When the Coronavirus first emerged, transparency of information in government was suddenly more pivotal than ever before. But little to no information sharing occurred between countries at that crucial time, thanks to the combination of the WHO being at Beijing’s behest and the Chinese Communist Party’s aversion to openness of any kind. The cost of that failure was tens of thousands of lives.

The CCP’s tentacles extend far beyond the WHO, of course. The Chinese government has spent the last several decades worming its way into every corner of the UN. Perhaps the most obvious manifestation of that is the UN’s persistent refusal to recognise Taiwan as anything other than Chinese territory.

Imperialism is alive and well in the twenty-first century. China, a modern colonial power, still claims sovereignty over Taiwan, despite the fact that Taiwan has been an independent country for over 70 years, and its government was democratically elected by its population of 24 million.

Taiwan’s exclusion from the UN has nothing to do with Taiwan itself. It’s not as if the UN considered Taiwan’s request to join and rejected it on merit. Even North Korea is a member, after all. The UN simply refuses to acknowledge Taiwan’s existence. It is so beholden to the will of the Chinese government that it does not dare contradict anything that comes out of Beijing. What is the point of an international peace project if it reliably does the bidding of a communist dictatorship?

If there was ever a time to put our foot down and begin to roll back China’s power on the world stage, it is now. “De-Sinoficiation” will define international relations in the coming decades. The Coronavirus coverup, along with flagrant assaults on democracy in Hong Kong and the appalling genocide of the Uyghur Muslims in Xinjiang, mean that the world has no choice but to begin to distance itself from the CCP.

This will be an almighty task. For at least forty years, our politics and our economies have gradually become more and more intimately connected with those of China. Disentangling ourselves from that relationship will be a lengthy and arduous process. Finally deciding to exclude Huawei from our 5G network was the first step on a very long road.

But it is a journey we must make. De-Sinoficiation is a necessary task. The entire western world has effectively turned a blind eye to China’s wrongdoing for far too long. The watershed moment has now passed – there is no going back. In order to preserve any semblance of a liberal, globalised world order, China must be knocked off its omnipotent pedestal and held accountable for its actions.

Taiwan’s right to exist as an independent nation seems a good place to start. The right and wrong of the issue is clear-cut and it has always been a touchy area for the CCP, whose greatest fear is its sweeping authority being undermined.

In the Economist’s democracy index, Taiwan ranks third in Asia and 31st in the world (higher than Italy and Belgium). Meanwhile, China languishes among the fifteen least democratic countries, making it more authoritarian than Cuba and Iran. While Taiwan was legalising same-sex marriage, making it the first country in Asia to do so, China was writing ‘Xi Jinping Thought’ into its constitution.

Taiwan stands ready and able to become a fully-fledged member of the international community. There ought to be no question about its validity as an independent country. You might even argue that the island nation, which calls itself the Republic of China, has a much stronger claim to be the Chinese government than Beijing.

On top of everything else, Taiwan is a trailblazing Covid success story. Its total death count from the pandemic to date is seven. The Taiwanese government is also going above and beyond any reasonable expectations in order to build friendships with other democracies around the world, including the UK.

Despite the western world unfairly shunning it in favour of China’s economic might, Taiwan continues to behave courteously towards its would-be allies. For instance, the Taiwanese government donated over a million face masks to the NHS at the height of the British coronavirus outbreak.

Since then, Taiwan has – politely – asked to join the UN and be recognised as an independent nation, calmly pointing out the enormous body of evidence and precedents in its favour. Those calls have gone unheard. Some bridge-building is going on – such as through UK Export Finance investing in a Taiwanese renewable energy project – but it will never go far enough while China is still in the picture.

The British left is beginning to stake its flag in Beijing apologia. Now is the time for Conservatives to demonstrate what post-Brexit Global Britain could look like by standing up for freedom on the world stage. The first step ought to be reconsidering the long-outdated One-China Policy, which would surely cause a ripple of similar actions across the west and – potentially – force the UN to reconsider its close relationship with China.

The Government has an opportunity to lead the world on de-Sinofication and create a valuable new ally for Britain in the process. Let’s not waste any more time.